Blog Without A Name

Short catch-up and apology

Abject apologies for having gone dark.

Short form is that I can’t totally get ahead of the back situation, though I even took the Unprecedented Step of asking the PCP for strong drugs.  Which work, to a point.  But not, alas, to the point necessary for peace, harmony, and getting any work done.

Tomorrow morning, a kind friend will be taking me to the walk-in clinic (which is absurd on the face of it, the walk-in clinic being about two miles from my house, but — strong drugs.  And back spasms.), where it is my very great hope that they will be able to provide something that (1) works to stop the more-or-less constant muscle spasms, and (2) doesn’t have the side effect of making me sick.  Though (2) is becoming less desirable as (1) takes on more necessity.

Aside the Constant Complaint Thread that’s been running on Facebook, below is probably the only notable thing I’ve said in three days:

Last night I finished listening to Accepting the Lance, by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens. May I just say that, while I vividly remember writing the scene where the Agent of Change is taunting Val Con — during this, my first reading of the novel as a novel, I was particularly struck by what the Agent chose to taunt him with.
“Vulnerable…so very vulnerable.” “We have seen it — cut one and the other bleeds. Kill one. Both die.”
In fact, he’s being taunted for having connections. For being human.
Wow.
Epic storytelling, past me-and-us. And truthly truth, as well.

Home at last

In breaking news, the Perambulating Package has arrived!

Credit where due, the box was in perfect shape, despite having  traveled ten thousand extra miles, as were the contents.

Today has otherwise been a day of parts. I worked until I couldn’t push through anymore (bearing in mind that the goal is not to make myself sick, but to extend my useful hours), then took a break until the pain eased off, and went back to it..

I have finished reading/proofing the 114 pages of the WIP, ate a kind of wandering breakfast, and a better lunch, plus ice cream with blueberries on top.

I’ve also listened to quite a few chapters of Accepting the Lance, washed the dishes, and done my duty to the cats.

The plan going forward is to read until Coon Cat Happy Hour, have a hardboiled egg sandwich for the evening meal, and go to bed early-ish, hopefully waking up in fit case to write.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

What if I’d been the one to say good-bye?

Aaaand. Back pain has returned. We. Are. NOT. Pleased. Currently working on trying to up the efficacy of my superpower by doing what needs to be done, and when there’s a spike, telling myself, “It’s only pain,” and keep on with whatever it is I’m doing. Let it be known that I’m not doing the wire act, and certainly not the trapeze.

The local post office gives me to understand that the Perambulating Package is on the route jeep and scheduled for delivery at my house today.

Yeah.  We’ve heard that before.

A question for the Tech Folk, Internet Domain Division. If someone has registered a domain through a wholesale service and “can make any changes to the domain” that they wish to make, does that not make them the owner of that domain, regardless of if they allow someone else to register the domain with a provider, post content and act in all ways as if that name belonged to them? That the person registering the domain can, in theory, and at any time, evict the person using that nameserver?

Spanish Aunts.

…it seems that standing up is the current correct position insofar as my back is concerned, so I’ll be bringing the pages I have left to read of the WIP to the standing desk for perusal.

I have Tali in position under the standing desk in my office, and Rook in his box on the edge of the big desk, where he can get the breeze from the open windows, it being a nice enough day, so far.

What’s happening with you, today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by .38 Special, “If I’d been the one.”

Anything can happen day

Wednesday. Sunny. Temp 74F Humidity 74%. Windows are closed.

I? have ordered in breakfast on the theory that I will eat an omelet if all I have to do is open the damned box and get a fork out of the drawer. I’m flailing around for strategies to get myself interested in eating food — and I don’t at this point care if it’s healthy, particularly — and came to remember that I never had any strategies for that particular quirk in a stupid quirky nature. When I was living with Steve, he cooked 90% of the time, and I’d sit at the table to be sociable, even if I didn’t feel like eating, and would have a bit of this or that while we were talking. Yes, Steve was a genius. However, that solution is no longer operative, and I’m a bit at a loss. And before anyone panics — I’m not sick, my stomach doesn’t hurt. I just — don’t want to eat. The urgency is that I cannot allow this to fall into a habit.

Argh.

Moving on to more amusing topics: The perambulating package is now in! South Portland. USPS promises delivery, but we’ve heard that song before.

We had a bunch of thunder and some lightning, but if there were violent thunderstorms in Maine last night, they were someplace else. While I don’t regret the violence — or the possible tornadoes — I do regret the thunderstorm drama.

Today’s Plan is to read the 100+ pages of the WIP, which will not only hopefully hang together as a tale, but provide sufficient hooks to hang the rest of the story on.

Writer math.

break to eat breakfast Which. Was. Good. Remember this, Self? Food tastes good. Sheesh.

A friend posted a meme yesterday about “When I was growing up, we were thrown out onto the street, helmetless, with our bike after breakfast and told to come home before dark.” Which encouraged some conversation including, “What is this “helmet” you speak of?” And that got me to thinking about How Things Change.

For instance. In my life — which, we do have to factor in the determination that we were writers above all else, which did have an enormous bearing on finances — I think that people who have two homes, or a camp, are well-off. The course of my life being such that we could barely afford one house, and were always skating the edge between solvent and me presenting Steve with a fanned hand of bills and saying, “Pick a bill. Pick any bill. The bill that you pick is the bill we won’t be paying this month.”

So, that. And then I think back to — my parents. Who had land in the mountains of Pennsylvania that they intended to build a camp on. They never did because they’d gotten taken in the matter of boundary lines and water, but that aside — they owned property other than their primary residence. My father was a spotwelder at the General Motors factory in Sparrow’s Point, Maryland. My mother was a stay-at-home mom.

Going back a generation, and the reason I’m so “surprisingly” at ease on the water, my father’s parents had a camp on Middle River in Maryland to which they retired every summer. They also had a mini-farm at what was then the edge of the town of Parkville, Maryland. My grandfather was a tailor for a large tailoring house (I often remember the name, but not this morning) in the city. My grandmother was a stay-at-home mom.

Tailor and spotwelder — these are not positions associated with great amounts of wealth. And yet, they were able to buy “extra” properties.

Well. The past is a different country.

Time to go to work.

What was your childhood summer like?

Three goods inna row

Tuesday. Raining half-heartedly. ‘beans are still calling for “near record high” heat, with indexes “near 100,” with bonus Violent Thunderstorms with damaging winds and hail, and perhaps a surprise appearance of a tornado, for the overnight.

Trash and recycling are at the curb.

Slow getting started today, despite a long sleep fully supervised by Coon Cats. Both ladies piled in immediately I had pulled the covers up, and Firefly tucked up against my stomach, which she never does, purring to shake the bed, while Tali made her very solid presence felt at my back. I woke up a couple times and they were still in place. Firefly, apparently noticing the change in my breathing, started purring again in a blatant effort to make me go back to sleep.

It worked.

Rookie seems to have spent a peaceful nightshift in his basket on the edge of Steve’s desk.

Rookie is not drooling this morning–his fur is dry and his eye is bright–and I have called his physician to report this.

I have a note from my physician, agreeing that the arrangements I have made with lisinopril dosing times and lifestyle adjustments have, indeed, produced a more seemly sustained level of BP readings, and has given his permission to stay the course. Which means I get to stick with 10mg rather than leaping into a double dose. So, that’s good.

Once I have dispatched this note to the internets, I will be doing the dishes and performing my duty to the cats.

Unless the fog in my head melts, I foresee a day of chores before heading out to crafting. Which means the house will be straight, and I can concentrate on writing Wed-Thurs-Fri.

That’s also good.

Back pain is at the Ignorable Level–three goods in a row. Not really very interested in eating food, despite the effort I made to have tasty things in-house, so that’s — worrisome, but not particularly novel.

The Perambulating Package is still being “assessed” in Augusta, and nobody’s committing to a delivery date.

And all that said — Onward.

What’s the weather where you are?

And! A picture of Rookie from last evening, post Happy Hour

Monday Evening

So, Rookie is at the vet. I stopped at the food store on the way back and took on supplies. Came home, put said supplies away (It had used to be, in the Beforetimes, when only one of us went to the store, that, when they returned, they would call, “Lucy! I’m home!” and thus gain assistance in the Putting Away, which also served to inform They Who Had Not Shopped what was new in inventory. Hard habit to break).

I have consulted with Firefly in her melant’i as Top Cat, confirming that staffing is reduced, but that I will be away for parts of the day, so the workload balance for those present will still be within the Union guidelines. I also confirmed that she is not required to redraw the Organizational Chart at this time.

Since I was at the store, I bought cookies, that being one of the necessities I was out of, and have performed a Quality Control test consisting of half a cookie (they’re big cookies), and will now proceed with Monday’s chores, of which the first is!

Writing to my physician.
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Sigh.

Meant to say that the perambulating package is on the truck to be delivered today.

Also meant to say that both Hummer Bars are enjoying good patronage.
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Home from bookclub. Our next book is Edison’s Eve by Gaby Wood. I have read this before, but it’s been a decade, so I’m looking forward to re-reading. I was Riveted when I first read it.

I have! An appointment for a haircut on Saturday at 9 am.

I have! One very damp and extremely cranky black Maine Coon Teenager, who reportedly sat in the vet’s back room and swore non-stop the entire time he was there, and growled at his vet.

The good news — there’s nothing wrong with his mouth or throat. He has a lot of gas, and theory at this point is that he has — a stomachache. Vet administered an anti-nausea, and I’m to report in tomorrow morning.

It’s hot out.

I should probably get a little something to eat…
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Who had “sent back to the sorting center” in the Perambulating Package Pool? If it was you, hold onto that ticket!

When last we heard from the package, it was inside my local post office, and this morning it was promised to be delivered by 9 pm.

However! In a shocking turn of events! When the mail arrived, the package was not among the pieces delivered.

I came back into the house, brought up Informed Delivery — and found that the package was on its way to Augusta — South, in other words.

I have spoken with a live human at the local post office, who has the tracking number, my name, and phone number and is going to be “monitoring” this delivery for me.

Whatever that means.

In other news, we’re to the chopping and freezing onions part of the festivities. Rookie came up to my lap on his own and let me dry him off. He’s still drooling but only a very tiny amount, so maybe the anti-nausea was what he needed.
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We were just having a conversation about home inspections for what was called when we moved to Skowhegan “town housing,” the direct descendant, as I believe I understand the matter, of the “town farm.”

In any case, housing inspections, and the things inspectors might look for — holes in the walls, garbage just lying around, too! much! stuff! imperiling foot traffic, dirty dishes in the sink…

All of which seems reasonable, except — I’m going to need to leave dirty dishes in the sink for the second day in a row — those being yesterday’s dishes — because my back wishes to register a complaint. I will therefore remake the bed, so I can sleep in it tonight, and then retire to a comfy chair with a heating pad, a book, and a glass of iced tea.

And remember to be grateful that I am not in a situation that means I have housing inspectors in my life.
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Evening wrap-up.

Fans of Rookie will be encouraged to learn that he has stopped drooling, his stomach is soft, and he had sweet words of flattery in his mouth when he came into my lap as I was reading. Apparently, I’m to be rewarded as a Hero for breaking him out of That Place. I was also allowed to comb the random sticky bits out of his mane. He and the girls have just finished a good happy hour and are now taking their ease in Steve’s office.

Back pain is slightly above the Ignorable Level, which is not what we prefer, and I’m kind of tired, so it will likely be an Early Night for This Hoomin.

The Perambulating Package is “processing” at the USPS in Augusta, 20 miles in a southwardly direction.

Tomorrow, I need to organize my reading. I have a little less than 100 pages left to read of Horngard before I may craft a quote that is a little more substantive than “Read this book, it’s good!” I also need to read the WIP to date and start (re)reading Edison’s Eve. Hopefully, I will be able to attend the craft meeting tomorrow evening. Oh. And I need to do the dishes.

Everybody have a good evening. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Monday morning

Monday and sunny and starting to warm up for tomorrow’s run for the Coveted Dangerous Heat Rating.

I have a cup of tea with me here at the desk and in a couple minutes, I’ll be rustling up some oatmeal.

Many thanks to everyone who expressed concern about my back and yesterday’s blackberry removal. Two things about that:

(1) The bush really wasn’t rooted very deeply. I basically poked at it with the shovel (see mile-long thorns), and it fell over. I went back inside, got Steve’s leather gloves, came back out, gave it a very small tug, and it came out that easy. The root was long, but not torn or broken, so it may be that I’ve got it all, which would be very unlike Blackberries I Have Known, so I’ll Keep An Eye Out.

(2) My back is a crapshoot. Or possibly I mean an abuser. This is how it works: Mostly, it hurts. Mostly, because of my Superpower, I can, and do, ignore it. Sometimes a piece of Kryptonite comes along, and pain levels escalate to where I can’t ignore them, whereupon I am Utterly Undone and Complain Incessantly for, eh. Two or three days. The pain then subsides to the Baseline Ignorable Level and I get back down to business. I do try to plan and consider and not overtax my back, but really, nothing placates it, and there’s no observable reason for having one day where everything’s fine, for values thereof, and another day where it hurts my back if I blink. Back pain was Ignorable yesterday afternoon, so — business as usual. Mind, if the blackberry HADN’T fallen over when I poked it with the shovel, I wouldn’t have gone any further, because I’m not completely nuts, evidence aside.

THAT said, on to Important Issues, in fact — Rookie the Cookie. Rookie starting drooling last night, and he’s still doing so this morning. While my two ladies do drool when they’re VERY excited, this is is not at all Rookie’s Thing, and he just seems to be…dripping. I don’t see anything wrong with his mouth, but what do I know. So! Rookie has won a trip to the vet 4:15ish this afternoon, Just To Make Sure.

I have phone calls to make today, and I really do need to pick up some stuff at the grocery (which we, too, called the “food store” in my youth — someone said this yesterday. Also, my grandmother had an “ice box,” and I still default to that, to the bewilderment of Many, and even though I haven’t seen an actual ice box, nor ice man, for … most of my life, actually), so — probably no writing today, which as it happens is just as well, because I had a Thought this morning that I really need to talk over with Steve. Lacking that, I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm.

What’s your news?

This just in: Rookie’s physician wishes to have him dropped off by 10, rather than brought in at 4, for Observation.

Guess I’d better find that breakfast I was talking about.

Books read in 2026

40  Neogenesis (Theo Waitley #6 AND Korval in Exile #3), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens
39  The Gathering Edge (Theo Waitley #5), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens
38  Alliance of Equals (Korval in Exile #2), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
37  Dragon in Exile, (Liaden Universe® beginning the Korval In Exile arc), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
36  Sourdough, Robin Sloan (e) (bookclub)
35  Necessity’s Child (standalone in the Liaden Universe®), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens.
34  Dragon Ship (Theo Waitley #4), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens
33  Ghost Ship (Theo Waitley #3), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens
32  Saltation (Theo Waitley #2), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens
31  Fledgling (Theo Waitley #1), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens
30  The Talisman Ring, Georgette Heyer, narrated by Joe Jameson
29  A Gentleman Far from Home (Lord Julian 11) Grace Burrowes (e)
28  Black Sheep, Georgette Heyer, narrated by Natalie Simpson
27  Cotillion, Georgette Heyer, narrated by Raj Ghatak
26  Platform Decay, (Murderbot) Martha Wells (e)
25  A Gentleman in Moscow, Amor Towles (e) (bookclub)
24  Fair Trade (Jethri Gobelyn #3), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens
23  Ribbon Dance (Liaden Universe #26), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller, narrated by Alex Picard
22  Trade Secret (Liaden Universe #17), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller (e)
21  Sea Wrack and Changewind, Sharon Lee, narrated by Alex Picard
20  When the Wolves are Silent (Sebastian St. Cyr #21), C.S. Harris (e)
19  An Heir of Distinction (Bad Heir Days #5), Grace Burrowes (e)
18   Longeye (Fey Duology #2), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller***
17   Duainfey (Fey Duology #1), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller***
16  *Crystal Dragon (Liaden Universe® #10), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
15  *Crystal Soldier (Liaden Universe® #9), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
14  Seeking Persephone (Lancaster Family #1), Sarah M. Eden (e)
13   Theo of Golden, Allen Levi (e) book club
12  *Balance of Trade (Liaden Universe® #8), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
11  *Scout’s Progress (Liaden Universe® #6), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller**
10  *Local Custom, (Liaden Universe® #5), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller**
9   *I Dare (Liaden Universe® #7), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller**
8   Cuckoo’s Egg, C J Cherryh, (audio first time)
7   *Plan B, (Liaden Universe® #4), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
6   Getting Rid of Bradley, Jennifer Crusie (audio first time)
5   *Carpe Diem (Liaden Universe® #3), Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
4   *Conflict of Honors (Liaden Universe® #2), Sharon Lee & Steve    Miller
3   *Agent of Change (Liaden Universe® #1), Sharon Lee & Steve                 Miller
2   A Gentleman in Possession of Secrets (Lord Julian #10), Grace             Burrowes (e)
1   Spilling the Tea in Gretna Green, Linzi Day (e)

________
*I’m doing a straight-through series read in publication order

**I screwed up and moved right on to I Dare from Plan B, therefore deviating from publication order.  I will now amend myself and go back to pick up Local Custom.

***I’ll be re-issuing Duainfey and Longeye as an e-omnibus later this year, and so I need to read them!

Sunday midday

Sunday. Sunny. It’s going to be warmer than yesterday.

My back does not hurt. No, I misspeak. What I mean to say is that my back only hurts the normal amount and that I can, literally, work with that.

Prudence dictates that I do not go to the Oxford gem show today. I’m sure they’ll do fine without me.

The actual plan for today is to not weed the garden, which really,  really needs it. Maybe I’ll throw in a load of laundry to feel like I’m doing something to alleviate the chaos that is the present state of the house.

I will be writing.

I’m about halfway through EMoon’s Horngard, and having a really fine time with it. You guys are going to love this one!

This morning I received news from the US postal service of interest to us all. The perambulating package left New York yesterday, arrived in New Hampshire, and was drop kicked to — anyone? . . . Yes, you, right here in front . . . In fact — yes. Thank you.

The Southern Maine sorting center, the root cause of all of this unseemly gadding about the Northeast.

USPS informs me that I will have my package tomorrow, Monday, July 13th.

I await developments with interest.

What developments are you awaiting with interest on this fine Sunday morning?

Dictated to my phone. Please excuse voice-os
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Getting started snippet. This will perhaps be familiar to anyone who has been on, or witnessed, a panel at a con.

“Right,” Tez said. “Meetin’ rules. Hear me out—all the way out, Cousins!—before questions. Question period’s limited to questions, neither captain nor crew is asking for advice or alternate plans. The quicker the questions are put and answered, the quicker we can get back to our beers. Who of you don’t understand what I just said? Put up a hand.”
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Spent the morning trying to track down this “ruler fractin” Jethri has in his pocket in Steve’s last draft. I have concluded that this was not set up in Fair Trade, and now I get to decide if it’s useful/I want to keep it. If I want to keep it, I have to introduce it, which ought not to be completely impossible, being as Jethri took delivery of a Whole Lotta fractins from Elsvair.

Well.

Research is still writing, but it’s not words, and I want words while I still know (more or less) what I’m doing. Once we leave Sactizzy, things are not nearly so straightforward. What a surprise.

All that to say that I’m taking a break in order to make something that looks like lunch (and, yes, to eat it, not just admire it).  I expect to go back to the WIP this afternoon and write a chapter.

I’m still feeling somewhat off-center, which I guess losing six pounds in three days will do for you. So! Lunch. And maybe even ice cream.

Tomorrow is book club, and I have to reschedule the appointment to get my hair cut, since there was no way I was able to keep Thursday’s appointment. And of course, there’s needlework on Tuesday evening. After that, it looks like I have a good handful of days in a row to actually bear down on the WIP, so I’m really trying to be sure that I have something to bear down on.

I also need to figure out how to take care of the garden I have, which is so low-maintenance I’m embarrassed that it’s a problem. Before my back staged its most recent drama, I had been thinking that I would go out every evening and put in a solid 15 minutes, which, so I reasoned then, wouldn’t challenge either my back or my knees. Too much. I’m going to have to re-evaluate this.

In the meanwhile, if any of my gardeners are still with me, I have a question. A blackberry bush has appeared in that same front garden, which — blackberry bushes are weeds around thisaway. I know the birds eat the berries, and I’m not unwilling to let them have at it, but! Blackberry bushes are also on a mission, as I understand the case, to take over the earth. I wish to avoid the blackberry bush fulfilling its mission in my garden. How do I contain it?

Spanish Aunts.

And! I need to go put the pieces of lunch into one plate, so I can actually eat.

How’s everybody doing so far?

She wants a car with a cupholder armrest

Saturday. Sunny and not going to be quite so hot.

Had a good sleep and a fine dream just before waking. Steve and I had been given the happy news that we were being given a permanent residence and needed to move out of our temporary apartment. We were in the process of this when something I don’t quite understand happened to divert our attention to what was perhaps a police action. However, by the time we had been called to assist in that, we had moved our stuff- we seemed to have a lot less stuff in the new situation- and located our cat, who was on the other side of the parking lot. Steve got the cat inside just as the call for our attention came in.

It was a puzzling dream but not particularly unhappy or fraught.

I woke up soon after and my back didn’t hurt, but that’s changed now. This is getting old.

I’ve sat longer in the window than I meant but I had Firefly’s attention for some time, and since she had quite a lot to say, I figured not to interrupt her.

I’m planning on scrambled eggs for breakfast and then going to write. I thought I was going to Oxford today for the gem show but I think that’s off the table.

For those following the Perambulations of the Package, as of this morning it had made its way from the Rochester NY sorting station to the Northwest Rochester sorting station (which seems to be the wrong direction, but perhaps it’s a matter of “North” trumping “West”), and the United States Post Office disavows any knowledge of when it may arrive… anywhere.

Firefly has cleared my lap, Tali has visited briefly, and also moved on.

My first cup of Russian caravan tea is gone. Sounds to me like I ought to go find breakfast.

How’s everybody doing today? See less
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So, that’s 1,130ish new words written, bringing the WIP to +/-25,525, finally breaking 25,000 words, something I’d thought I’d see much earlier in the week.

I need to do my duty to the cats and then, I believe I shall, oh. Eat something. And then sit in the window and read my book.
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I have progress to report!

I ate lunch, for definitions of lunch. I unloaded the dishwasher and put the dishes away! I reloaded the dishwasher from the sink full of dirty dishes! And! I did the dishes that can’t go into the dishwasher.

Now, of course I’m exhausted, but that’s what my book is for.

When I sat down in the comfy chair in Steve’s office, Rookie immediately threw himself into my lap so I guess I’m here for awhile.

Today’s blog post title is from Cake: “Short skirt, long jacket“.  Yes, again.