Author: Sharon

Monday morning you sure look fine

What Went Before: Aaaaaand back from ASL class. I remember a little bit of finger-spelling and some signs, but I’m sloppy, and need to clean up my act. Fun doing something that’s not writing, in any case.

My package from the Royal Mail arrived, however, the Royal Mail thought I was gonna sign for it, and sent me instructions to be on-hand. Our local carrier wasn’t interested in getting out of his jeep in the wet, so he just tossed it in the mailbox. No harm done, and the package is in the drawer.

The cats were in post-Happy Hour places when I came home and were initially startled. Then Trooper got with the program and started demanding to be fed.

I have a glass of wine, and ought to look around for something to feed myself.

Friday. Cloudy and cold. Snowed on the overnight. (All together now, with feeling: Will this torment never end?)  Dry ingredients for today’s loaf of oatmeal/wheat bread mixed and coming up to room temperature, while I gird myself to meet the day, and set the kettle to boil.

…continuing…

We here in Central Maine are under an Active Wind Advisory. Hopefully, it will blow the snow off the driveway. OTOH, I’m not going anywhere today. One of the news feeds would have me to know that many folks in York County have already lost power.

Breakfast was one egg yolk (because I need the egg white to stick the oatmeal to the bread crust) and a whole egg, scrambled with leftover tomato, onions, rice, with the last piece of bread from last week’s loaf, toasted. Finishing up my first cup of tea, with Trooper on my lap, purring. Lunch will be fish and something. I’ve fallen off the fish wagon, which is all too easy to do without Steve around to remind me.

There are eleven in the ASL class, plus the teacher. I have homework — practice my ABCs, count from 1-10, which isn’t as easy as you’d think, work out how to fingerspell my last name — *cough* — and the name of the town I live in. Also, there’s a website and I’m to do Lesson One. I may have to teach Firefly how to Sign, because here’s the thing — you not only need to learn how to make the sign; you need to learn how to read the sign when somebody else is talking. Which is Every. Bit. As. Hard as trying to follow a conversation between two native speakers of, oh, Spanish, after having aced your Spanish 101 vocabulary test.

The classroom we’re in has … character. Also, a line of rubber duckies on a ledge above a bulletin board. There’s a podium with stickers all over it — colleges, coffee, sports teams. And a sign up with the duckies that says, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM WHINING. I’m not doing the room justice, really. For me, it’s Just This Side of Sensory Overload, and I have to force myself to focus on the teacher and my fellow students, instead of spacing around to study the Things.

So, that. As reported elsewhere, today I bake bread, ref “last piece” and “toast” above, and also the ASL homework. What else I do — depends.

What’cha all doin’ today?

Today’s blog post is brought to you by Fleetwood Mac, “Monday Morning,” not because it’s Monday morning, but because, in order to pass my very first sign course, 50 years or so ago, I had to sing a song in Sign, and for some reason I chose “Monday Morning.”  Yes, I got my certificate.

Oh, I had a debriefing when I got home last night:

Back on the rocking horse

What Went Before: Tali’s fan club will be pleased to know that she is pronounced “a looker” by her vet, a little lean, but in perfect health. She has received her chip, gotten a pedicure, and had her ears cleaned.

Short story: Tali is still not certain that I have clearance to pick her up all the time, so I was feeling pretty good about having not only picked her up, but carrying her to the box with the bare minimum of wiggling, and into the box itself with only one curse word (from Tali). I latched the gate, and went to start the car.

By the time I got back, Rook had managed to unseat one side of the latch — which wasn’t enough to let her force the gate down, but I’d just like to say, Thank God that kid isn’t polydactyl. And also? He’s gonna be running this town by the time he’s five.

Tali is now home, and sleeping the sleep of the Justly Exhausted under the dining room table.

I am having a cookie, which may become two cookies (spoiler: it did become two cookies), and a cup of tea.

Thursday. Rainy and warm. Foggy as the snow sublimates.

Ashley’s due in an hour or so, and tonight is ASL class.

Breakfast was toasted English muffin with cream cheese and grapes. Lunch will be, um. Chicken. I baked chicken breasts yesterday, but opted for the last of the drunken noodles for my actual lunch. I’m pretty sure you can’t live on drunken noodles, but apparently I’m willing to try.

I straightened up my desk again yesterday afternoon. At least I have the answer to the question, “Why is there so much crap on this desk?” Because, in part, I’m writing a book, so paper accretion is A Thing, but also because I have two insurance cases open.

I did finally retire to the blanket fort, after downloading All Systems Red from Audible. I put on my headphones and closed my eyes. That appears to have been a Good Call.

Tali is swinging back and forth between, “Monster! You put me in the evil box and put the evil box in the car and TOOK ME AWAY.” and, “You brought me home from the evil place where all the ladies cooed over me and told me how beautiful I am. MY HERO!” I suppose she’ll get it sorted in a day or two.

A week ago, I ordered something from Across the Pond, and the Royal Mail has been my best friend ever since. They notified me when my packet was received into their system, when it had boarded the plane, when it landed (though not what it had had for tea), when it entered the tender care of the US postal service, and, this morning, that the packet had been welcomed at my local post office and was on a truck for delivery. If I had expected anything, I would have expected a cessation of correspondence from the Royal Mail once the package entered the care of the USPS, but no–apparently they’re going to see it through to the moment I sign the release. I’ll actually miss their letters.

I shifted all my notes and whatnot back to Steve’s office so Ashley can have a clear field when she arrives.

And that’s my news.

What’s yours?

Yesterday, the younger Directors decided to play Tic-Tac-Toe

Like a bird on a distant mountain

What went before Part One:  Spoke to the hospital billing office, which, predictably, blamed the insurance company.

Spoke to the insurance company, which originally said, “$X? You should owe +$X!” I asked if they would please look at the previous incident of my going to the walk-in clinic a week before to see how much I had been billed for that. She did. The insurance company has Opened A Case. I may, for 30 days at least, ignore the bill. Insurance company will call me when its investigations are complete.

Went out to get the mileage on the car so I can call the dealership.

Part Two:  All of my phone calls are made; all of my reservations are finalized.

As our navigator, Steve of course used to do all the route planning and hotel reservations. Even basing my route on one that he had refined, it’s exhausting.

I am now free to heat up and eat my lunch. After which I will perform my duty to the cats and possibly take a nap.

Part Three: No writing today. I am completely wiped out. Into the blanket fort with me!

Tuesday.  Gloomy and already nearly as warm as it was yesterday. The ‘beans tell us we’re looking at 44F/7C today, and rain.

Trash and recycling are at the curb.

Breakfast was oatmeal with dried cranberries and walnuts. Lunch will be the rest of the chicken pie.

Tali and Rook are chasing each other around the house. Firefly is on the back of the comfy chair in my office, and Trooper is in the copilot’s seat.

I do need to go out this morning to get my meds from the pharmacy. Prolly should get cat food and milk while I’m there. Maybe drive past the car wash. Surely, people won’t be getting their cars washed on a day when it’s going to rain? Heh. Heh.

For those who collect such things, my headshot and short bio are up at the BaltiCon 59 website.

BaltiCon is very organized; I’ve already heard from the Guest Liaison, and this morning have a letter in-queue from the head of programming.

I know it’s early days, but could I see a show of hands — who thinks they’ll be coming to BaltiCon?

raises hand

For today — I have the above-said errands, one’s duty to the cats, answering the programming letter, and writing.

Tali is now standing on my lap and nibbling my fingers — and off she goes.

What’s happening with you today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by The Blue Jays, “I Dreamed Last Night”

 

Books read in 2025

16  Destiny’s Way (Doomed Earth #2), Jack Campbell (e)
15  The Sign of the Dragon, Mary Soon Lee
14  A Gentleman of Unreliable Honor (Lord Julian #6), Grace Burrowes (e)
13  Market Forces in Gretna Green (#7 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
12  Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent, Judi Dench with Brendan O’Hea (e)
11  Code Yellow in Gretna Green (#6 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
10  Seeing Red in Gretna Green (#5 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
9   House Party in Gretna Green (#4 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)*
8    Ties that Bond in Gretna Green (#3 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
7    Painting the Blues in Gretna Green (#2 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
6    Midlife in Gretna Green (#1 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
5    The Goblin Emperor, Katherine Addison (Author), Kyle McCarley (Narrator) re-re-re&c-read (audio)
4    The House in the Cerulean Sea,  TJ Klune (e)
3    A Gentleman in Search of a Wife (Lord Julian #5) Grace Burrowes (e)
2    A Gentleman in Pursuit of the Truth (Lord Julian #4) Grace Burrowes (e)
1    A Gentleman in Challenging Circumstances (Lord Julian #3) Grace Burrowes (e)

_____
*Note: The list has been corrected. I did not realize that the Gretna Green novella was part of the main path, rather than a pleasant discursion, and my numbering was off. All fixed now.

Don’t forget who’s takin’ you home

What went before: Well. I’ve made a timeline, and notes, and more notes. It looks like I’m going back to Station Day 48 to start, which is further than I thought I’d have to go.

I have an invoice from the plow guy, second of a set, which I need to check against the calendar, and then write a check. I note for interest’s sake, that the bill for February is exactly the same as the previous bill for the entire rest of the winter previous to February. Plowing is billed by the incident, which means it snowed as much in February, the — thank ghod — shortest month of the year, as it snowed in November-December-January, combined.

Tomorrow, I have to call Martin’s Point, because they billed me for an Out-of-Network specialist for going the walk-in clinic, which in theory should cost me nothing. The special part of that bill is that the procedure is listed as “miscellaneous.” Man, I took bookkeeping, be it ever so long ago. “Miscellaneous” is the Kiss of Death. Get it right the first time, why not?

Also tomorrow I have to make the reservations I didn’t make today because I wanted to write. Mind you, I expect that I’ll want to write tomorrow, too, so there’s a false economy.

I need a secretary. And a cook. And a housekeeper. And an assassin. Not necessarily in that order.

It did occur to me today that I could get everything done if I just went back to the desk after Coon Cat Happy Hour, and worked until midnight/1 am, like I used to do in Olden Times, when I would then also get up at 5:30 to go to my day-job.

. . . I suspect that might be a young person’s game . . .

Monday. Sunny and -3F/-19C. My office hasn’t warmed up yet, and I write to you in my Official Winter clothes of flannel shirt and jeans, with a fleece lap blanket.

Breakfast was the last of the Port Salut on toast with grapes. Second of what I fear will be many cups of tea to hand. Lunch will very likely be leftover drunken noodles.

Last night kind of went from bad to worse. I finally gave up on deciding if I was going to eat anything, made chamomile tea in a Yeti cup, took my book and went to bed, where I was speedily joined by Rookie the Cookie, Grandpa Trooper, and Tali (who hasn’t earned a nickname yet). We put on some soft jazz; I drank my tea and read, and finally went to sleep.

I had a dream where I was involved in a music festival/co-op/fund raising kind of … something. I got dragged into being a liaison between one of the bands and the set-up crew, because the guy who was supposed to be doing that work had been sent off on a round of errands and hadn’t come back yet. Things were a little confused, in the way of dreams — and music festivals, and fund raisers — but the original band liaison did finally come back just in time to rescue me as I was trying to explain how the band worked to one of the organizers, which wasn’t making happy listening for the organizer. The original liaison backed me, agreed to nothing with great cheerfulness, and got the organizer out the door, which he locked, then turned to me with a grin.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said. “Did Angel pay you, or at least give you something to eat? Or did you want something else?”

“I was wondering if I could have the music for the last song in the set,” I said.

“That song? They don’t share that song, they only play it.”

“Well, I wanted to learn to play it,” I said.

He laughed. “Oh! In that case — let’s go find Angel.”

I woke up at 7 with Firefly tucked against my stomach.

Today, I have a cool three million — or at least six — phone calls to make, some letters to answer, my duty to the cats, and to stage the trash for tomorrow, if it ever warms up (the day, not the trash). I don’t actually have to be anywhere until Wednesday afternoon, when Tali has her meet ‘n greet at the vet.

And that’s it for right now.

How’s Monday treating you so far?

Today’s blog post brought to you by The Drifters, “Save the Last Dance for Me“

Rook Thunderpaws’ Natal Day Celebrations

What went before: Lunch was drunken noodles, which I got the last time I ordered out, and it was lovely and worth a repeat. I also have won ton soup which will likely be dinner. If not, it will be breakfast. And? I have drunken noodles left over.

I wound up having to write a short bio, because the short bio in hand was for Us, not for Me, or even for Us that Was. I think I’ve got it nailed down. One more read-through for typos and I’ll send it along.

I did do some writing, by which I mean, I rewrote a couple of scenes and lost about 500 words. So — progress!

Tali has come into my lap numerous times today, and has even allowed me carry her around the house, and comb her. So — progress!

Today could possibly be Sunday, but whatever the day, the date is March 2 which means!

It’s Rook Thunderpaws’ first birthday.

Festivities are already in train. Rook had a vigorous game of tag with Tali, ending with Tali throwing the yellow ball at Rook, who was clearly supposed to bop it back to her, except Rook hadn’t read the rules of the game all the way to the end. There was a moment of awkwardness, which Firefly interrupted by chasing Rook through the kitchen.

In keeping with the festive nature of the day, breakfast was ham and Swiss cheese with mustard on whole grain bread, with ham treats shared out among the revelers.

My lunch today will be (part) of the now-defrosted crustless chicken pot pie. And yes there will be ice cream.

The plan today is to write. We’ll see how that works out.

What’s your plan for the day?

Morning Festivities, a short photo-blog:

The Belated Report

All righty, then! Chores have been retired, po box run has been accomplished, hairs have been cut, cottage cheese taken on at the grocery.

There was a sympathy card at the post office box, and a bag of hot chocolate mix. I don’t know what lunch will be — probably hot chocolate isn’t lunch by itself. I may call something in, as a better alternative to having Firefly cook.

My plan is to bear down and work this afternoon and tomorrow, since I am temporarily ahead of the chores. Well, not all the chores; I owe those two folks headshots and “a brief bio,” and should probably do that first. I think I have a brief bio and the headshot problem has been solved — thanks to all who stepped forward to share their expertise! — and that’s probably a better use of my time than angsting over what I’ll make to eat.

So. First world problems. Not going to be able to say that much longer.

The stylist is a music enthusiast — big Elvis fan, follows a particular impersonator; has plans to go with a girlfriend to the Grand Ole Opry; not only knows what The Band was, but can reel off the names of the anchors. She already has tickets to see Willie, Dylan, and Sheryl Crow at Bangor this summer. I didn’t know Willie was coming to Bangor this summer.

Today, she said that she’s starting to feel old, and I got a little bit of a shiver right then. Steve had told me he was starting to “feel old” — and he wasn’t wrong: once you start mooching into your 70s, you’re legitimately old. But to feel old — I don’t. I feel tired and sad and lost, but I don’t feel old — which is just another item in an ever-growing list of things that I don’t know how I feel about.

And on that note — off to order in lunch, and find me that “short bio.”

Memories kicked up a picture from eight years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

Also, proof of hairs being cut:

 

Big Time

What Went Before: The snow has stopped, and the town plows are out in force.

1000 new words written today. I really need to get my head back into what’s happening on the station, after spending two consecutive books on Colemeno. I was also very gratified to find a place to step back to, where I could begin from a different angle, and that we had been smart enough to leave a gap I can use for some Fun Stuff that we didn’t get to include in Salvage Right because then it would have been 500,000 words long and Toni would have murdered us.

I’m not going to give a running total for the current WIP, because I still have to revise, disassemble, reassemble, contract, and extend what I had already written.

I have an Itinerary for my May wanderings. Steve always used to do the trip planning, because he was good at it, and I — am not. However, it occurred to me that I could use the trips to New Jersey and to Westminster last — no. In 2023. — as models to get me to Baltimore without killing myself. So! Waterville to Cooperstown. Cooperstown to Baltimore. Baltimore to Corning. Corning to Rutland. Rutland to Waterville. Easy-peasy and all (except for the trip to Corning) well-known routes. Thank you, Steve.

I did make my reservation at Corning. Tomorrow, I’ll try to get Cooperstown and Rutland taken care of, and then I’ll realio trulio be committed to this thing.

And, yes, I do know that New York State is the carousel capital of Planet Earth.  It’s tempting to just take, yanno, four months off, have nothing but fun, See All the People and Do All the Things, but I really do have to get some writing done this year, too.

And that’s all I’ve got. In retrospect, a busy day — and that multigrain loaf from the (King Arthur) kit is delicious. I may get another one or two of those, to have in reserve, because I do not normally stock All the Grains, not to mention the seeds and other yummy, crunchy stuff.

All that said — onward!

Friday. Intermittent sunshine. Not so warm today, and snow predicted on the overnight.

I have come to the conclusion that the snow is targeting me. Yesterday, it snowed out my first ASL class; tomorrow, I have an appointment to get my hair cut. Pfui on you, snow. I pick my teeth at you.

What else? Oh, breakfast!

Breakfast was a tomato and cheese sandwich on two slices of the multigrain loaf I made yesterday. Lunch will be the last of the store-bought quiche, which was … OK. But my quiche is better.

Today, I have Chores. The first load of laundry is washing. I need to set the vacuum working, make some phone calls, finish with the reservations for the Big Trip, do the banking, catch up with a couple pieces of correspondence, perform my duty to the cats, and maybe take a walk. Eeek. Feast or famine. Fire or drought. If I don’t fall asleep, Actual, yanno, Work is scheduled for after lunch.

I have been remiss in telling you all about this wonderful new timer I have put into use. As is the case with so many very simple things, I have a really hard time using kitchen timers. Lately, I’ve had Google to yell at to set a timer, but Google sometimes loses the plot, and sometimes I forget to yell. Mostly, I’ve been setting the timer on the Big Microwave, which is old enough to drink, vote, and run for president, and I’ll be blunt — I live in fear of the day that microwave dies, because I Have No Idea how the one that came with the house works.

Anyway (yes, I’m still talking about timers, but I got bored with the above paragraph and decided it would look nicer if I introduced some white space), the Big Microwave has a chicklet keypad, and I’ve become worried that I may wear the keys out and poof! there goes my access to the second most-used item in my kitchen. So, I bought a timer, and I want to tell you, it’s so simple even I can use it, and the bell is loud, so if I — not that this ever happens — forget that I set a timer for my tea and go to the back of the house to do something, I can hear the bell go off (just like the microwave timer), and go rescue said tea before it climbs out of the cup and begins a pilgrimage to the Old Country.

Here’s the timer.

What else? OH! BaltiCon. Yes, you — yeah, even YOU — can come to BaltiCon; it’s not a closed club or anything. Guests of honor this year are Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Sebastien de Castell, Stephanie Law, Marc Abrahams, Joanna Fang, Blake Collins, and (my favorite, though I shouldn’t say so) the Baltimore Gamer Symphony Orchestra. Plus, yanno, the Heinlein Award winner, and a cool three million writers, artists, costumers, and filkers. Really, you should come if you can; it’ll be a great time. That’s BaltiCon 59.

I should mention that BaltiCon is a Very Important Con in my personal life.  I met Steve Miller for the first time at BaltiCon 10, in 1976.  While we were still living in Maryland, BaltiCon was our “home con.”  We were Writer Guests of Honor at BaltiCon 37 in 2003, and attended the big BaltiCon 50 Guest of Honor Get-Together in 2016.

And I really do think that’s all.

How’s Friday treating you?

Today’s blog title isn’t brought to you by Peter Gabriel, but it’s a good song, anyway.  “Big Time”

Friday morning cat census:

Dancin’ in the dark

What went before: So, today’s work revealed to me that the niggling feeling that I had regarding something being off about the timing was, indeed correct. I need to recast a few scenes, but thank ghod I caught it this early in the process. If I’d written half a book incorporating this error, fixing it would have been a Nightmare.

I spoke with Eileen Stevens again this evening; she plans on beginning her narration of Diviner’s Bow this weekend.

Onward.

Oh, let’s see. Thursday?

Thursday. Dim and! It’s going to snow! Bah. BAH, I say.

Breakfast was oatmeal with inclusions of dried cranberry and walnuts. Lunch will be — I took some of that ham and pea soup out to defrost. If it’s gonna snow…

Today’s plans are to make the last of Steve’s bread kits that he squirreled away. This one is for a multigrain loaf. The flours and seeds are all premixed. I’ll be using my own yeast, rather than trust the little packet that came with. So, that should be good.

I have some PR to do, and a couple letters to write. Also, writing. I left myself a V. Cranky Note last night, to wit: WHAT TIME IS IT ON TINSORI LIGHT? Which — wow, talk about a head-scratcher.

Tonight is supposed to be my first ASL class, which is in-person at the high school. I’m hoping the snow just blows out to sea and leaves us to it. That would be nice.

The cats would have me believe that they are Out of Food. This is almost true, and they’ll be due for a refill about lunchtime.

I am still like The Plan that has me driving to Balticon, then stopping at Corning on the way home to do the glass museum for a couple days before coming home. If it still seems good tomorrow, I’ll have some reservations to make.

For those playing along at home: my ears have not fallen off, or turned red or black. I’m cleaning them three times a day, like it says on this sheet of paper here, and turning them per likewise.

This morning so far, Firefly and Tali have played a game of tag; Tali and Rook have played a game of tag; and Firefly has smacked Rook repeatedly on the head. Trooper is napping in the copilot’s chair.

And so it goes. Time to start the bread.

What’s the weather where you are today?

Today’s title brought to you by Bruce Springsteen, “Dancin’ in the Dark.”