Clear the workshop in preparation for the 'final push'. It's the Holy of Holies, a place in which menstruating women are not allowed. In the corner on the table I note after the film is developed a strange spectre... the ghost of Drones Past.
Asked my 9-year old if he wished to assist in the clean-up, but he prefers less visceral work like wandering around Minecraft, where he's lost his horse. Emerged from a hard days virtual mining to find it wandered off, a Black Beauty with white forelocks.
I ask him to light a Minecraft fire that we can sit around during a rendered sunset.
"Life ain't always easy, son," I say. "Saw you'd broken and saddled that beast too."
"But listen, and listen to me good. Hard times ahead, boy, and there's gonna be a lot worse in life than losing your Minecraft pony.... varmint deserves eatin' by a shoal a' piranhas."
"But eat your virtual beans and get some rest. Ridin' out to mine-country at daybreak".
