The Saturday morning cat census here in East Winslow is:
Mozart in his hammock overlooking the Cat Garden
Scrabble on the heffalumps in Steve’s office
Trooper, chasing his Special Green Spring up and down the hallway
The Saturday morning author census:
Steve in his office, tweaking and updating webpages, among other things
Sharon, still down among the commas, and hoping to be done with this part realsoonnow.
What’s doin’ at your house?
Insertion of scenes requested by Editor or Agent or Self, with attendant snarling as they stick out like a head shot from a different picture pasted into a team photo. The massaging of text necessary to make them sink invisibly into the opus is…not going particularly well this morning, thanks to reminders of yesterday’s hijinks at the Texas statehouse. Suffice to say that if the Texas lege doesn’t want “a circus” there, then they all need to go home, because they ARE the circus.
But anyway–a magical healing, a pirate battle, and two other magical battles (which Editor thinks aren’t hard enough) must be fixed this weekend. I’ve considered spending every scent I own on getting the Texas lege as a body so drunk they sleep the weekend away so I can get the work done. Wouldn’t work, I’m sure.
Back to grindstone, wiping a bloody nose before I put it in place again.
Canny is bouncy this morning, spending equal amounts of time thumping onto the book case by the bedroom window & attempting to tromp on Sensitive bits of Anatomy. The bread machine hates the whole wheat flour, and the loaf cooked overnight is in three pieces before coming out of the machine. I am bleary eyed with inadequate sleep & preparing to wr0k again on what looks like a gorgeous day.
John made French toast and has been noodling on his guitars after running out to deal with a client emergency. I’ve cleaned the kitchen, done laundry, and played with the cat, all in the interest of avoiding dealing with figuring out a highly annoying bug in my work computer. But alas, that is coming!
Beleth, the Maine Coone tabby who is very friendly but named after the demon summoned by Noah’s son who helped create the first mathematics text, is locked in the bathroom. He’s got three more weeks before his last set of shots so he can meet Aki.
Aki, the calico named after the Japanese word for fall, is sitting outside the door. All the time.
Sometimes they stick their paws through the door at each other.