Cons, Coon Cats, and Boring Health Stuff

This is in the nature of a catch-up post.

For those who have been following along with the numbers game at home, the latest information garnered from the latest blood test is that the 1 mg dose of thyroid medicine is a winner.  The poor pituitary has stopped with overtime manufacturing of kick-me hormones for the thyroid, and the thyroid is producing numbers in the normal range without being kicked, and — this being the important part — I am fully awake and at optimum crankiness and sarcasm levels for the first time in. . .years.

Come to think of it, that should serve as a Public Service Announcement.

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Also — this repeats news shared on Facebook yesterday evening — I have successfully concluded a project years in the making — a ceiling fan in my office.  I’m so happy — I can’t tell you.  Here’s a picture:

. . .isn’t it BEAUtiful?

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I have been reminded to remind y’all that!  Registration for BaltiCon 50, held over Memorial Day Weekend, May 27-30, 2016, at the Renaissance Baltimore Harborplace Hotel, is now open.  Here’s the direct link.

In addition to Guests of Honor George RR Martin, John Picacio, Bill and Gretchen Roper, and Martin Deutsch and Shirley Avery, BaltiCon 50 aims to welcome back as many of the con’s previous Guests of Honors as are interested and able to come.  So far, 21 Alumni GoHs have agreed to return for BaltiCon’s 50th anniversary, including Steve and me (Writer GoHs, BaltiCon 37, 2003).

This is a big, big project, and BaltiCon is asking for your help in funding the travel for the returning GoHs.  There’s a donation page here, where you may donate to your favorite GoHs.  (Yes, I know that Steve and I are listed separately; I don’t know what’s up with that, but at the bottom line, I don’t think it actually matters.)

BaltiCon 50 is also selling a limited edition promotional tshirt in order to raise funds.  You can view and/or purchase a tshirt here.

Finally, for all the latest news about BaltiCon 50, you can sign up for the Twitter feed:  @balticon50

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This is a Hard Writing Weekend, which means I’ll be somewhat scarce on the web.  The beginning of next week includes an interview, and a visit from the generator guy, as well as Yet Another Phone Call to the health insurance company, which seems stuck in an Endless Loop of sending me a form I’ve now filled out and returned three times, while at the same time being unable to generate a monthly invoice.  Sigh.  Also, the Colby Art Museum is hosting an Open House on Thursday evening.  I always like to go to the Art Open House.  So, not an insanely busy week, but busy enough with mundane things — and writing, too.

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Extra credit paragraph:  From the Department of Anthropomorphism, Cats Are Not Social Committee, we have the following Observer Report.

This morning, I was sitting at the kitchen table finishing the wonderful tuna melt Steve had made for breakfast.  I have a direct line of sight into the living room from my place at the kitchen table, and was able to see Trooper in the cat hammock, Belle stretched out on the rug close to the kitchen, near, but not on, the cat scratchers.  Sprite walked into the living room, fell on Belle, cleaned her up, cleaned herself, up, cleaned Belle up and in due time, as frequently happens, the grooming morphed into a wrasslin’ match.

This morning’s match was. . .vigorous.  Sprite broke twice, but came back, and Belle, seeming slightly put-upon, finally threw her Whole Being into the thing, grabbing Sprite around the waist and kicking her in the stomach.  There were no growls, but Belle, at least, was clearly intent on teaching Sprite a lesson, rather than savoring the Joy of the Wrassle.

Sprite tried to break a third time — Belle wouldn’t let her.  Sprite renewed her efforts to get free, Belle held her closer.  I was on the edge of producing a loud, “Ahem!” when. . .

Trooper jumped down from the hammock and approached the melee.

Belle let go of Sprite and twisted to her feet to face him; Sprite escaped to the hall, where she sat down and began to groom her shoulder.  Trooper walked directly up to Belle, tail slightly higher than straight behind, but not a full upward sweep, and put his nose against hers.  She allowed this — then swatted him in the head.

Trooper went back a couple steps and walked carefully around her, as if he was going to go check on Sprite.  In fact, he paused by the television stand, where he could see her in the hall, cleaning up, stroked his cheek against the wood a couple times, turned, and went back to the cat hammock.

Belle began to bathe.

I stood up and got myself another cup of coffee.

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Everybody have a nice weekend.