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As I’m sure most of you are aware by now, The Silver Standard finished yesterday last week a week and a half ago (darn you, work-induced procrastination). I originally planned on a longer retrospective of how long it took us to get here, let you in on some old notes, and spell out a couple of theses on characters and the obtuse floriography symbolism that I threw in because it’s my fic and nobody can stop me.

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ok maybe more like 23 hours instead of 24 hours traffic from work was tough work with me here

They just aren't. At all.

Not to say Equestria doesn't have nobility* at all, it's just that they aren't an established Thing. They're not a class. You need an actual population of nobility for that, and as of now, there are only seven of them: the four Princesses, Shining Armor, Flurry Heart, and Blueblood. All (except maybe Flurry) have titles and an official status.

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Gentle readers! I wrote some new words with ponies in them!

Props to my man SaddlesoapOpera who really came through with that night edit from Camp Everfree. I honestly forgot this used to be a daytime shot.

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Except it's like 20,000 more words instead and there's a lot more tea, the spilling* of tea, and construction legislation eleven-year-olds really shouldn't be handling but are anyway for some reason.
Part one drops next week.

Stay frosty, y'all. *fingerguns*

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To start us off, have a deleted scene:

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Blame Saddlesoap Opera. This is his fault.
Also I really need to get on that Diminishing Returns blog, or else finally respond to my comments sheesh Patch.

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Or as I like to call it "The Riches Have Some Issues To Work Out But Ultimately Have A Healthy Marriage Because They Love Each Other And You Can't Stop Me So There ".

But my prereaders told me that title takes too long to read, so I named it after an economics thingy instead.

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So.
I've been wondering how to write this blog post for the better part of four weeks. I liked the idea of a longer post working out feelings, or musing about the nature of grief, or sharing an experience with a rejected Simpsons couch gag* that became eerily relevant not twelve hours later. I might still do one of those things, but for now there's no way other way to say it than to say it.

My father passed away last month. To the day, in fact.

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