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Sunday, September 24, 2017

Our Visit to Sutton Hoo



When walking the grounds, you can feel the specialness of this place.  It is quiet, save the wind rustling through the trees.  The ages speak to you, from the silence of the mounds.  It is a holy place, as it was meant to be.  A 'hoo' is the plateau, the flat spot on the top of a hill.  The trees that grow today where not present over 1,400 years ago - there were well hewn, to clear the view below from the River Deben.  A traveler could look up at the greatness in reverence from almost a mile.   

The discoveries that began in 1938 dispelled two things.  The mounds were not remaining Roman earthworks.  And that the northern Germanic peoples were grossly ignorant, living in mud huts.  The discoveries showed a vibrant, colorful culture punctuated by artifacts from distant lands.  These are facts.  

The Deben Estuary was an ideal waterway for trade with all of Scandinavia, northern Europe, and even the Mediterranean.  As an example of the reach, the garnets in King Raedwald's gold jewelry came from India.  The silver and bronze bowls are Coptic, and come from the eastern Mediterranean.  Then we have the workmanship and craftsmanship of the Saxons.   

King Raedwald's burial ship was a used clinker built craft that probably saw service in the North Sea and beyond.  The clinker boats were the original 'shift boats' of their time.  This particular craft was 90 feet long and measured  16 feet amidships.  It had to be his personal ship - the people dragged it one mile uphill to bury him.  The King's jewelry was all handmade with extensive filigree work depicting animals and men.  For the time, the King's military equipment was state of the art.  His sword, a pattern welded sword, is one of the best to be found.  The military gear sat in stark contrast to the neatly folded, colorful stacks of woven fabric.  Raedwald's personal drinking horns were included in the burial, believed to be from the extinct Aurochs.  

There is much more that I could write in this small venue, but rather than write, I encourage you to investigate Sutton Hoo for yourself.  But there is one thing that needs to be written.  The King was buried with his dinner service.  Nine solid silver plates and spoons.  What mud hut culture uses a dinner service made from silver?  

                                                      


                                                          Copyright @2017 Terry Unger








Sunday, September 17, 2017

A Final Spoonful of My Book, Nick Hammer - Blood Money





Hammer wasn’t in the mood for Magda’s less than subtle verbiage; the mosquitoes were eating him alive.  “I’m outside.  So our guy rents a vehicle at 3:00AM.   What’s your take on this, Mags?” 
          “He’s doing something at this time to minimize his chances of getting caught.” 
          “Yes rookie, he is,” Nick said.  “John Howard or what ever his real name is came back for two reasons.  He ran out of cash.  He took some with him but not enough.  He blew through what he took, that’s why he used the credit card.  Now he’s back for the rest of his stash.  He didn’t put it in a bank – to many reed flags.  More than likely he put it in a storage locker, someplace innocent and out of the way.” 
          “So we need to saddle our horses and find this guy.” 
          “We will.  But we’re not gonna spin our wheels looking for his stash locker.  There’s just way too many of these things.  By the time we find it Howard will be long gone or Sonia finds him first and kills him.  We lose both of them.” 
          “Alright, so what’s the plan, boss man?  What are we gonna do?” 
          “Not we.  Just me.  The second reason he came back is in Kemah.  I’m gonna go check out the roller coaster in Kemah.”  

          Copyright @2017 Terry Unger

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

A Tasty Morsel From My Last Book, Nick Hammer - Blood Money





Humans have intuitive ability that manifests itself in various ways.  Sean McMann called it ‘his gut feeling.’  He finished some pending business for Watershed in Austin and on the way to the airport, ‘his gut’ told him to swing down to Houston to touch base with Hammer.  Just a drop by to say hello so that Hammer knew   Watershed had not abandoned him. 
          McMann was eating his burger at the counter and enjoying it.  When Nick and Magda walked through the door, they couldn’t believe their luck. 
          “Hey Southie, how ya’ll doin’,” Nick said. 
          “I thought you would be here Mr. Hammer.  I just wanted to let you know that Watershed hasn’t forgotten you.” 
          “Don’t see how they could, Sean.  Yeah, your bugs, you turd, tell all. Why don’t you come back to our table and enjoy your meal with Mags and me.” 
          “Thank you Mr. Hammer that would be lovely.” 
          Nick left Sean slide into the booth first; he followed.  Magda sat opposite McMann.  He was trapped. 
          “Now tell me you piece of pond scum,” Nick said. “How did you shits plant those listening devices in my office and bedroom?”  

                           copyright @2017 Terry Unger 


Saturday, September 2, 2017

Another Bite of My New Book, Nick Hammer - Blood Money






Sonia was at her estate, well past Tampico’s city limits.  Lounging almost naked by the pool, she briefly thought about her life before all the money.  Growing up on the streets, you take what you can when you can take it, without regrets.  Just like now, but on a larger and more profitable scale.  Living like that, dirt poor, was no longer an option for Sonia.  Never again.  She had more money than she could ever spend.  She loved her body; the best Brazilian boob, ass, labiaplasty, and face lift money could buy.  If I was a man, she thought, this is the kind of body I’d want to fuck.  While admiring herself, the maid brought her the mail – nothing but junk.  It was enough to bring her back to business.  Sonia picked up her satellite telephone and punched in a number. 
          The voice on the other end said, “Ola jefe.” 
          “Did you turn up anything on that cocksucker, Julio Rivera,” Sonia said. 
          “The trail went cold in Galveston a while ago, jefe.  He went to ground, somewhere.” 
          “Dammit,” Sonia said.  “I’m spending a ton of cash trying to find that piece of shit.  Something’s gotta pop up soon.”  The real truth – Sonia only paid Nick and her man on the other end of the line.  But her man did not need to know that.  


                                 copyright @2017 Terry Unger

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