What went before: Oh, let’s see. Wrote +/- 800 new words, sketched in another scene, did Yet. Another. Timeline off the end of Salvage Right, and I have to ask, Who thought writing a sequel to Salvage Right was a good idea, because We? Gotta Talk.
Finished the laundry, put the sox away, brushed four out of a possible four coon cats, watched a couple How To Play Nice With Your Microphone tutorials, because I have never in all these years made peace with microphones. I have not done my ASL work, and … yeah, I’m not doing it now.
Coon Cat Happy Hour has happened. I’ll need to refill the bowls with dry food before I go to bed or there will be complaints to the Committeecat.
Tomorrow is Monday, and the weatherbeans are calling for 2-6 inches of snow to fall between 10am and 10pm. In Theory a guy is coming by to look at washing the windows and cleaning the rain gutters, but I’m not holding my breath.
Pretty much, I’m done for the day. Gonna make a sandwich, have a glass of wine and find something to read.
Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.
#
Monday. Cloudy and on the road to snow.
Breakfast was the two steamed chicken buns from the freezer. They made a pretty good breakfast, and the orange was a good chaser for the spice. Second cup of tea is brewing. I’m defrosting a beanloaf to have someway or nother for lunch.
Informed Delivery informs me that a package that the vendor rescheduled delivery for twice is suddenly! and literally Without Warning! out for delivery today. This may be what brought the snow to us.
The morning started with tears. Seattle in 2025 Programming wrote to me yesterday reminding me that I hadn’t filled out my panelist information, and — I took a deep breath and let them know that I would not be attending. SunnyJim wrote back very graciously, and — I wanted to go, dammit. I even have enough Amtrak credit to fund half the trip, but reality suggests that the trip alone would unglue me for days, and it’s not much of a con if you’re huddling in your room (which is another Test I’m not ready to take; hotel reservations for Worldcons have become the stuff of nightmares). Steve would have made all this look easy, but that was Steve’s promise before we even moved in together — “I’ll make it easy for you.” Which, granting various definitions of “easy”, he did. (Cue Paul Novak).
I note, a year out, that this New Order still has some massive bugs.
So, that.
Today, aside from the possible arrival of the guy who needs to look at the windows and the gutters, is projected to be a quiet day of homework, writing, and watching the snow. I think I have enough milk left to make a mug of hot chocolate to sip while looking out the window.
What are your plans for the day?
*Today’s blog title brought to you by the Folk Wisdom that snow is the poor man’s fertilizer. Why? you ask. Because snow brings nitrogen down to earth and revitalizes the soil.
Here’s a picture of Trooper to light your way today.
Sharon, I’m glad you had the courage to choose self-care rather than promising to get to the Left Coast for the Seattle con. It’s *not* easy to make these choices, but there’s a reason we have the motto “Better safe than sorry.” Much as Maine is where my heart is (and specifically the family camp on the lake) every year I find myself thinking that I’m not sure I will ever do that again because all the planning and logistics and stress of getting there is becoming more and more beyond my capacity to cope. Brushing all four cats sounds like an all-day chore for those four, but lovely full-length portrait of Trooper!
Trooper looks very imperial.