Category: Blog

Tired writer is tired

What went before ONE: So many kindred Rock Spirits! That’s So Cool.

Trooper has had another half can of “in gravy” — seafood mix, I think — licked up all the gravy and ate about half the food. Yesterday, I would have sworn he was on Death’s door step.

What do I know?

I did clip his claws, so hopefully no more face scratches, though honestly I would prefer not to get smacked by an importunate cat at 6 am at all.

I have placed stickers on the back window of my car, which display my Affiliations. On the left, the Hubble Space Telescope sticker given me by Lauretta Nagel. And on the right, a cat fish sticker — which is to say a cat that has really lovely koi-like fins and tail.

Funny story about that. I had a tshirt from Balticon 37, where Steve and I were Writer GOHs and Sheila and Omar Rayyan were Artist GOHs. The tshirt was of a catfish — aka, a cat with a fish tail, and I loved it so much I wore it out. But before that day came, I was wearing it when we went down to Old Orchard Beach one day, and in the course of our Adventuring stopped at the rest area sort-of across from Eartha. And a Small Child saw my shirt and planted himself in front of me and demanded, “What kind of animal is that?” to which I answered, truthfully, “It’s a catfish,” and passed on. Behind me I could hear his mom — or at least, the adult woman he was with — saying to him, “Never mind. She was telling you a joke.” I didn’t hear if she clued him in to what the joke was, but I kinda hope she did…

What went before TWO:  Getting pounded awake at 6 am is not working out for me long-term. Just got up from a nap. I’m guessing there will be no writing done today.

OTOH, Trooper has eaten two Fancy Feast cans of Whatever in Gravy, and made a start on a third.

Wednesday? I think so. I’m starting to get a little off-footed on what day it is, which is … annoying. Outside the office windows, it’s sunny and cool. Going to be warmer later, but not, yanno, hot.

Breakfast was leftover dhal. Second cup of tea to hand. I have chicken for lunch, and a veggie to be named later.

Yep, up at 6 again. This morning, I got up when Trooper yelled in my ear, figuring he was going to win, anyway, and not wanting us to start the day at odds. He yelled me all the way down the hall to the kitchen, yelled while I mixed his meds into the gravy, and yelled me back to the bathroom, where he was served.

He’s now conked out on the copilot’s chair and my nerves are starting to settle. Trooper has a very effective yell.

Since I was up, I threw a load of laundry in, to sort of prove that I was relevant, and now I’m waiting for my brain to catch up with being awake, because I have a bunch of /t/h/i/n/k/i/n/g creative labor I need to do today.

break for Rook to throw himself into my lap, snorgle my cheek and pat my hair. “There you go, Mom, NOW you’re ready to face the day. An’ if that creative labor gives you any cat sand, you send ’em to ME.” Thanks, Rookie.

ANYhow, I’ll have a shower after I finish my tea, and try to shock the system into wakefulness. And, yanno, there’s always more tea.

I have two phone calls that I really need to make, but I haven’t been able to scrape together the OOMph to get them done. I’m hoping to make at least one of them today.

I need a secretary, or maybe I mean a keeper.

On that topic, sort of, when I was down in Bath a few weeks ago, I passed one of those, um, retirement communities, and I briefly thought that it might be … interesting to live in Bath, so I made a note of the place’s name and when I got home, I filled out internet form for more information, and, I mean —

snort

I don’t want to mock people who are more substantial than I will ever be, but … let’s just say that if I did have an extra five hundred grand laying around to buy a “cottage”? The monthly fees are more than the mortgage payments on this house (which are, yes, low, because Steve insisted we refinance in that bygone day when money was for some reason cheap), but even at the original less cheap rates. And then you have to do the things you do, anyway, like eat, and put gas in the car, and (I think this is not included) pay to keep the lights and the heat turned on.

And, let’s face it, I’m not moving out of this house. For one thing, I don’t want to move, period. For another, the house is put together to remind us — and now me — on any daily walk-through what it is we chose to do with our lives, and how that worked out for us, and there are some days when I really really need that reminder.

Well. My tea is gone, and the laundry needs to be shifted from the washer to the dryer, so I guess it’s time to get shakin’.

What’s going on with y’all?

Cat census:

Stones are the bones of the earth

What went before ONE: Making dhal for (my) lunch.

Trooper resting comfortably in the copilot’s chair. Firefly in the box on the desk. Rookie stretched out on my papers on the desk. Tali resting in Steve’s office.

Apparently, we’ve all had a rough morning and are seeking comfort.

What went before TWO: +/-970 new words today, which means! The WIP has broken 60,000. We may actually be able to do this thing.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Sunny, cool, and pleasant. Trash and recycling are at the curb.

The rose continues to survive in the front garden. I continue to apply chili powder around the base.

Trooper ate a pouch of gravy with meds included, and half of a three ounce can of Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna and Cheddar in gravy. Which is to say! He licked up all of the gravy, but then he actually did eat some of the food.

Trooper is on-deck to get his claws trimmed today, because he scratched my face this morning as he was pounding on me to get up, get up, GET UP AND FEED ME, WOMAN!

I? am very tired.

This morning, I would like to talk about rocks. Rocks have been a lifelong passion. When I was a kid, I read everything I could about rocks. I took a summer class in rocks in elementary school. I picked up rocks to take home and study. I could tell a igneous rock from a sedimentary rock, from a metamorphic rock. I loved agates, and my bucket list included finding garnets in the wild. I kept a Rock Notebook. I would talk for hours about rocks to anybody who made the mistake of asking me what I liked.

I just Loved Me some rocks, OK?

In adulthood, I kept with the picking up of Cool Stones. I would talk to Steve about rocks, mostly because he never learned not to say, “So, tell me about this one. What made you pick it up?”

And for one birthday, he surprised me with a trip into the Maine mountains to a “played out” quarry, where you could fill up a bucket with the broken stones from the discard heaps, then go sit under a tent and sift them, looking for tourmalines.

Best. Birthday. Present. Ever. And I was over 50 at the time.

I still have a lot of the rocks from that trip, even after having given away a box or two. A week or so ago, I decided to put some of the more interesting ones out on the deck on the table and let the rains cleanse them. Many of these rocks have inclusions; many have pits, where iron crystals had formed and then rusted away. A couple are just big chunks of black tourmaline. Some have quartz crystal inclusions, some, I think are garnets, but they might just as well be pink tourmaline. Some of the rocks are slabbed with mica, and, yes, there are tourmaline inclusions in almost every one. Very small tourmalines, mostly black. Black tourmaline is not as valued as the other colors.

[Taking a break to see what Trooper has made of the second half of the can of tuna and cheddar, and? The plate was clean (I put a closed door between him and the kids for this, so he dines in seclusion sometimes; other times, I butle for him.).]

OK, back to rocks. I’ve been checking the rocks on the outside table every morning, turning them and oohing and aahing over each new reveal. This morning, as I was performing this ritual, I noticed that the rains had really cleaned up a rock I particularly liked, and I could see crystals in its pebbly surface. And several of those crystals were green.

This is very exciting. Moreover, the rain has revealed in addition to white quartz crystals, and the green, many, many orange-ish crystals, which had given the piece its “pebbly” affect. This is basically a crystal farm, growing on a granite base.

Happy sigh

Thank you for listening to me talk about rocks.

Today at 11 I’m expecting an arborist, who will tell me now much it’s going to cost to take the scary pine trees at the head of the drive down before the winds knock them down and they hit the house, taking a swath of wires with them. Tonight is needlework. Between now and then, I have my duty to the cats, and I wish to write. And, yes, trim Trooper’s claws — that smack was way too close to my eye.

So! What childhood passion still makes you happy as an adult?

Have some pictures. On the table of rocks, those two black chunks? Those are black tourmaline.

For Trooper’s Fan Club

DISCLAIMER:  This is not an easy read.  If you don’t wish to read about the end-of-life situation of elderly coon cats, and their equally elderly caretaker, please pass on.  I’ll look forward to checking in with you again tomorrow.

Background: My first cat was Archie McGee, who came to me as an orange-and-white kitten some time Pre-Steve — say, the early 1970s. Some years later, when Archie was grown, I met Steve Miller. He had a gray and white cat of Extremely Regal Bearing named Arwen. The combined household eventually acquired a third cat, a brown tabby barn cat named Brandee. Steve and I kept cats together for 47 years. We have nursed sick cats, and assisted failing cats through their last days. And when we were let to know that it was Time, we let them go, with grace and love.

Trooper is 15 years old; 16 in December. He’d been fine until last summer when he began to lose weight. He was still sharp and took an active paw in raising his grandson. He took it … badly when Sprite left us (as did we all), and that was when he began to decline. He’s been steadily losing weight, and getting more and more demanding and more and more forgetful.

The problem here is not that his appetite is not tempted, nor that he is “sick” (all his blood work comes back perfect), but that he forgets food while he’s eating it. He will, in fact, no longer eat crunchy food, though he will eat a few hand-fed crunchy treats, and (sometimes) freeze-dried chicken treats. He will not eat chicken baby food, the first cat I’ve ever had that refused this delicacy. He’s … disinterested in tuna water, and mostly ignores tuna. He will eat Delectables gravy, which is not food, necessarily, but he will lap it up — until he forgets what he’s doing, and then I need to show him the bowl again, push his nose down, and he remembers and finishes. He will eat the so-called “stews,” by which I mean, he will lick up the gravy and ignore the inclusions.

This morning, after having smacked me over and over again to get up and feed him, he looked at his bowl, uncomprehendingly. What was this strange thing? I stirred the gravy and offered again — still no recognition. I took the food up. He started yelling at me to feed him. When I went on making my breakfast, he curled up in his box on the desk. Later, I offered the gravy again. Again — no idea what this is, Mom. I offered freeze-dried chicken and he ate a chunk. Then he figured out the gravy.

According to the vet, Trooper’s problem is dementia. While there are apparently therapies for dogs that somewhat mitigate their symptoms, or at least the attendant anxiety (because Trooper knows there’s Something Wrong), there are none for cats. I don’t know about CBD, but I feel that his vet would have mentioned it, if she thought it would help. She’s not a newbie, either.
I am going on at length with this because while these things have been reported in bits and bobs, as I mention what I do during my day, I have not laid the whole thing out in one place and some folks are coming in late, having not heard the whole story.

I am not asking for advice. I am taking expert advice, and I’m feet on the floor here, in a very fluid situation.

I do thank everyone for your support and concern.

Here’s a picture of Trooper this morning:

“Just try to make it sound like you wrote it that way on purpose.”

What went before:  So, a slow start, ending with +/-1,287 new words, for a Full WIP wordcount of!

+/-58,890.

. . . I am going to have to go back and fill in so many holes, and I am going to have to eventually figure out That Thing, but “eventually” is the operative word, and Future Me is going to be Quite Put Out with me.

OTOH, we have motion in a forwarder direction.

The cats are demanding Happy Hour, I have pots ‘n pans to wash, and, oh, I should try to find The French Connection somewhere.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Damp and dim and cool(ish). “Violent” thunderstorms are apparently on the menu.

The rose survived another night.

Breakfast was onion, potato salad, and leftover broccoli scrambled with an egg. Whole wheat toast with strawberry jam on the side. Lunch — if nothing else, I have salmon cakes left over from yesterday.

I need to sneak out to the grocery for cat food, and some fruit while I’m at it. I also want to stop at Reny’s, which opens at 9, so that’s my window for getting out of here.

Today, I need to change out the cat fountains and I probably ought to do other housekeeping-like things, but the chances are I’ll be in the comfy chair, making Notes for the WIP, since yesterday’s scene Revealed where that other scene needs to go, and what its job is. I love how writing is such an orderly process.

No, wait a minute — no. I don’t. It’s one of life’s ironies that I was trained as a secretary, to make and keep order inside of Chaos. I was also the order-keeper in the partnership, which is a Testament to Steve’s capacity for Chaos.

Ah. The thunderstorms are projected to arrive about 11 am. I therefore Make Plans — out at nine, back before 11. I can do this.

Oh. I should say, in re the film I was looking for: NOT The French Connection, which I have heard of but never seen, and actually have no desire to see (apologies to all of those who sang out with great love for the experience). The movie I was looking for is The French Dispatch (Wes Anderson), and the search goes on. Possibly, I can stream it from Amazon, if Amazon will stop fetching me 404s instead of film pages.

I also need to finish reading John’s book so I can take it back to the library on Tuesday, and give somebody else a chance. I mention this because the library sent me a note, telling me that my book is due back soon.

So! What’re you doing today?

Today’s blog post title is from The French Dispatch.  And now you know why I want to watch it.

This is one of the day lilies I rescued from last year’s landscaping project.  Turns out to be one of Steve’s Special Sort, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to see it.

Musings on the craft

What went before: Had a nap. Wrote +/-720 new words, bringing the WIP to 57,600-ish total words.

Please do not send me Instagram links — Instagram will not let me in, no matter how nicely I ask, which, honestly? Is probably Just As Well.

It really was a very pleasant day today, weatherwise. Sadly, it will be warmer again tomorrow, but then perhaps we’ll have a thunderstorm or two to look forward to on Sunday.

For those interested in the Fate of Our Papers (not a joke; several people have Expressed Concern), I will at the end of this update provide links to our two archives: One at Northern Illinois University, and the other at the Cushing Memorial Library at Texas A&M.

I’m knocking off for the day to do a little embroidery, and fingers crossed that the cats will let me sleep.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Links:  Northern Illinois University       Cushing Memorial Library

Saturday, sunny and still cool. Windows OPEN.

Tali is playing with a spring. Trooper has had his envelope of gravy with meds stirred in. Rookie is on the prowl and Firefly is in one of the open windows in my office.

First cup of tea is brewing, which I will drink while completing the process of waking up. Breakfast will be half a blueberry muffin. Probably. Lunch will be the postponed-from-yesterday salmon cakes, with veggies.

So, I’ve been thinking about the WIP — I know, What A Surprise — and about Diviner’s Bow, which was originally going to be a Completely Nother Book, dealing with Padi’s adventures during the audit of the Iverson Loop.

Only, I got to thinking about the set up there on Colemeno, and the Matter of the Deaf — not necessarily of the Haosa, though there was some of that. I mean, a society where two-thirds of the population are, by definition, non-people really isn’t tenable. And while the Deaf on Colemeno have only just recently fought themselves to a seat at the table, where their voice could be heard, the Haosa don’t even have that.

It never came up, but I’m guessing that, if the Deaf are allowed to, say, testify in court, their “disability” would prevent them from giving a Whole and True Account, and thus not be compelling evidence. And the Haosa! The Haosa might as well be norbears for all the rights they hold under Civilization.

Which comparison would, I expect, amuse the Haosa greatly.

So, that’s how Diviner’s Bow became a book about — as so many of our books are stories are about — What Does It Mean To Be Human, with a side of We’re All Better When We Help Each Other, instead of Padi’s Grand Adventures on the Loop.

In my naivety — writers are — no, I can’t say that. There are writers out there who are Positive, Firm, and Stern; they take No Nonsense from their characters, and they are Realists about the business of their craft. That’s admirable, and I’m in awe.

So I should say that, yes, I’m a wanderer, naive and gormless; quite often amazed, and delighted, with the process of writing and the shines that the characters get up to.

Thus! In my naivety, I initially thought that this book I’m working on now, nameless as it remains, would take up the Iverson Loop, only — Shan was going to Tinsori Light (so far as he knows), and he had arranged for people to meet him there to assist in bringing systems and protocols into the present, and there’s still the on-going business of never mind cleaning, but scouring the old core, and getting those repair bays gone, oh! gone and — here we are at Catalinc Station.

And, I should say, I’m having a tolerably good time there, though the characters have informed me that, while my concerns are worthy, and they will certainly see those items I mention taken care of in good time, there are Other Matters that More Nearly Concern Them, which they’ll be taking care of, front and center, and wouldn’t I be better for a nice cup of tea over there in the corner and out of their way?

Readers have for the last — oh, three? four? — books been reporting that the title they’ve just finished reading is The Last Liaden Book. In fact, there are three (3!) more (more!) Liaden books under contract — the one I’m working on right now, and two others. I’m not going to tell you what the other two are about, because, as I’ve just demonstrated, I’ll probably be wrong. It is, as I’ve also said before, my Goal to give readers a soft landing, and the characters each a solid and sustainable base from which to go forward and grow, on their own, if need be. It’s not like they really need authorial guidance.

Well.

Thank you for listening to my TED Talk.

But you and I, we’ve been through that

Begin as you mean to go on…

SNIPPET ONE:
The red was beyond excellent. Jen Sin closed his eyes, the better to savor it, and heard Val Con speak.

“I see you’re refining Theo’s taste. But, the jade, Brother? Surely you might have taught her to drink something a bit less dear.”

“It’s not quite so dear,” answered the rich voice of his cousin Shan, “when you have a connection, and a discount. And the jade suits her.”

What went before: So, that’s 1,121 new words written today in two shifts, bringing the WIP entire to +/-56,880 words.

Had a good chat with my friends at Holy Cannoli, where I can attest that the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies are still delicious.

I thought it was going to rain, and it did drizzle a little, but I had been promised a thunderstorm, to usher in a cooler tomorrow, and I’d still kinda like that, please.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served up and consumed, and I’m about to pour myself a glass of wine and go see if I’m still annoyed with Dr. Who, or if I can finish watching the episode I bailed on — a week ago? Two? Whatever.

I have an early appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow, and then I’m pretty much Free until Tuesday.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Sunny and cooler. Windows OPEN. Station air is convenient, but I really prefer ambient conditions.

Woke up earlier than I had planned. Turns out that all four cats were low on snuggles, so we did that for a while before I got up and found, yanno, clothes.

The rosebush has survived another night; no sign of digging activity, though it did rain a little last night, so I’ll have to re-up the hot pepper.

Breakfast was a peach cut up into cottage cheese with tea. More tea to hand, and probably more tea after that. I’ll probably make salmon cakes for lunch; which is, among other things, guaranteed leftovers.

My phone updated itself last night, always an exciting time. The best new toy is a button that will allegedly identify music playing nearby. I used it successfully twice, but now it’s not working, or maybe Google doesn’t recognize Bon Jovi’s “Lay Your Hands on Me,” which I would say the chances of that are…low.

Anyhoots — it’s still early, so I guess I’d better do some of the chores I was going to do later, so I have more time to work, later.

I do have a doctor’s appointment at 10, and a short stop at the grocery after, but that’s all I’ve got to write about.

I can share another SNIPPET, for those who may be interested. Shan and Val Con are in rare form, I fear:

“However, if Val Con wishes to come the disapproving banker – “

Val Con raised his hands. “Acquit me! The red is everything that is wonderful, Master Trader, and I will prove my word by shortly having another glass. I thank you for your generosity on behalf of us all.”

Shan eyed him. “I sense an upcoming bid for my cook.”

“That,” Val Con returned primly, “is not for me to decide.”

“I believe you enjoy saying that,” Shan said.

“I believe I do, too,” Val Con answered, cordially.

And that said! What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Jimi Hendrix, “All Along the Watchtower”

Cat tax  Rookie and Firefly being coy, each in their own manner

 

In which Rookie went There and Back Again

What went before ONE: So, that’s +/-690 new words this morning before I quit to do some necessary chores and find out what’s for lunch. The Manuscript Entire is presently at +/-55,765.

I may or may not get back to the manuscript this afternoon after we get back from the vet. I may instead do the cat box change out in the basement, and take an early evening.

Trooper is now smacking me in the arm, demanding another snack, so that’s my cue.

What went before TWO: Rookie the Cookie, 16 months old, weighed on the Vet’s Official Scale, a cool 13 pounds-point-nothing. He is pronounced Healthy, Well-Grown, Solid, and Drop-Dead Gorgeous.

He has gotten his three-year distemper, and his rabies vaccine.

I regret to say that he swore loudly and with feeling all the way to the vet’s. He was much quieter on the way home, where I made myself strawberry shortcake with whipped cream, and Rook got a splurk of whipped cream. He is now sleeping the sleep of the guy who just got home after an adventure, and I’m going downstairs to change out the necessaries, after which it will be a shower and maybe some embroidery for me.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

So! Thursday. Dim and damp and not as cool as I would like. Maybe tomorrow.

Breakfast was the last slice of roast beast with the last slice of Swiss cheese on multigrain bread with a side of cherries. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will be — ah. Strawberry shortcake? Oh. With ice cream. And chocolate sauce. That’s all the food groups, isn’t it?

Rookie has bounced back from yesterday’s adventures and vaccines. He was not so much inclined to Cat Dance last night, being content to watch Firefly and Tali show off their moves, and he went to bed in the loft in Steve’s office early in the evening. But he’s on the move this morning, so all’s well, and we need Never Speak of It Again.

I worked on my current embroidery project last night while I finished listening to These Old Shades. I don’t think I had realized that this was Heyer’s second Regency; it’s such a leap forward from The Black Moth that I had always assumed she had written it much later, even given the Easter Eggs from Moth that are included.

The embroidery is going very quickly; it’s really simple, being mostly straight and back stitches. I have another couple kits, and I have some transfers coming. Maybe I’ll embroider a shirt next…

I had not reported yesterday that someone had tried to dig up the rosebush on the overnight. I repaired the damage, thought about putting gravel around it, but didn’t do. It looks undisturbed this morning, so — fingers crossed there.

Critter relocation has not called back. Need to call the next on the list today.

Also today, meeting friends for coffee this afternoon. Before that — one’s duty to the cats, and some writing are on-board.

So! What’s for lunch at your house today?

Books read in 2025

39  These Old Shades, Georgette Heyer, narrated by Sarah Nichols (re-re-re-&c-read, 1st time audio)
38  Faking it (Dempsey Family #2), Jennifer Crusie, narrated by Aasne Vigesaa (re-re-re-&c-read, 1st time audio)
37  Copper Script, K.J. Charles (e)
36  The Masqueraders, Georgette Heyer, narrated by Eleanor Yates (re-re-re-&c-read; 1st time audio)
35  Everyone Here Spoke Sign Language: Hereditary Deafness on Martha’s Vineyard, Nora Ellen Groce (e)
34  Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Winifred Watson, narrated by Frances McDormand (re-re-re-&c-read; 1st time audio)
33  The Wings upon Her Back, Samantha Mills (e)
32  Death on the Green (Dublin Driver #2), Catie Murphy (e)
31  The Elusive Earl (Bad Heir Days #3), Grace Burrowes (e)
30  The Mysterious Marquess (Bad Heir Days #2), Grace Burrowes (e)
29  Who Will Remember (Sebastian St. Cyr #20), C.S. Harris (e)
28  The Teller of Small Fortunes, Julie Leong (e)
27  Check and Mate, Ali Hazelwood (e)
26  The Dangerous Duke (Bad Heir Days #1), Grace Burrowes (e)
25  Night’s Master (Flat Earth #1) (re-read), Tanith Lee (e)
24  The Honey Pot Plot (Rocky Start #3), Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer (e)
23  Very Nice Funerals (Rocky Start #2), Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer (e)
22  The Orb of Cairado, Katherine Addison (e)
21  The Tomb of Dragons, (The Cemeteries of Amalo Trilogy, Book 3), Katherine Addison (e)
20  A Gentleman of Sinister Schemes (Lord Julian #8), Grace Burrowes (e)
19  The Thirteen Clocks (re-re-re-&c read), James Thurber (e)
18  A Gentleman Under the Mistletoe (Lord Julian #7), Grace Burrowes (e)
17  All Conditions Red (Murderbot Diaries #1) (re-re-re-&c read) (audio 1st time)
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.

It’s a lonely ol’ night, but ain’t they all

What went before ONE: I am going to have to prevail upon the goodwill and kindness of the firemen to help with the smoke alarm. It is perhaps that an inner shield was not removed when the device was installed, and my hands are too week to turn the damned thing and open it.

I fear that’s also going to be the case with the electric broom, though I’m pretty sure the firemen won’t fix that.

Onward. I have made a cup of mocha, because I can, and have been through what I wrote yesterday, which remains good.

What went before TWO:

How Many Cats Are In This Picture?

What went before THREE: So, the generator guy pronounces the generator in good shape. He of course had to switch the power, so I’ll now have fun resetting all the clocks.

But that’s not why I called you here this afternoon. I am horrified by my new embroidery project.

#1: The thread is not embroidery thread; it seems to be Just Thread wound around a thread keeper, one strand and it’s all kinked up because it’s been wound on the card for … some time. I figured to iron it, to make it straighter and thus easier to work with, and? It melted. MELTED.

#2: One strand of this weird thread, doubled to make the two strands called for in the pattern, means a smaller needle than I usually use, and I am not certain at all that I’m going to be able to keep the dern thing in hand.

So! Definitely something I’ll be working on away from home. Or, I can possibly do a refrib, replace the stoopid thread with Actual Embroidery Thread from the Stash, and tally-ho.

That may be my best option.

But first?

The clocks!

What went before Three-point-one:  Summing up.  The weird thread is said to glow in the dark.  As I got the kit from a friend who was thinning her stash, and have no investment in the finished piece glowing in the dark, I have found appropriate colors in my Big Bag of cotton floss, and will be continuing with them.

What went before FOUR: Back from needlework. I got really involved in my project and the time flew. Good company helps.

Coon cat happy hour has been served up and I’ve poured myself a glass of wine.

I did a little bit of tinkering with the WIP today, but my real problem is how the scam is going to work, so I’m letting the boys in the basement work on their Powerpoint for awhile. I’m really like where this is going.

The only thing on tomorrow’s schedule, aside, yanno, one’s duty to the cats, and eating, and like that, is Rookie’s Annual with his vet in the afternoon. I hope to write in the morning hours, but if the guys are still working, it’s no big deal.

I think I may finish the green bit while I listen to These Old Shades — this will be New Territory; I’ve never listened to a book while I was doing something else. I wonder how that will work.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Wednesday. Sunny and going for warm/hot-ish.

Once again, I am Up but not At ‘Em. I hope to find Motivation in a mug of Republic of Tea’s strong Irish Breakfast, as soon as it’s even remotely cool enough to drink.

Trooper has had his first snack of the day, with medical inclusions.

My breakfast, once I get to that part of today’s agenda, will be half an everything bagel and, oh, a slice of Swiss cheese; cherries on the side.

Slept hard, but with many disturbing and complex dreams, none of which I can remember of course, except that one had something to do with Alma Alexander and a car.

Notes on the day just behind us:

1 How Many Cats Are In This Picture of course comes from Highlights for Children, where it was a recurring puzzle. I don’t remember much else from Highlights for Children, but I do remember that. Obvs.

2 Listening to an audiobook while sewing is a Dangerous Game. I sat over my needle much later than I had intended, listening and stitching in an Altered State. If I’m going to make a Habit, I’m going to have to set a timer.

2a Last night’s experiment, ref #2, convinces me that listening to a book while driving is not going to A Thing for me. Good deal that I like to listen to music when I drive.

I didn’t have much of a plan for the day, but whatever it was, I have now taken the Command Decision to reduce it to: Breakfast, Cat Box Duty, Write until it’s time to swoop up Rook and take him for his annual check-up.

. . .and my tea is gone. Best find some day-clothes.

Who’s Up and At ‘Em this morning?

Today’s blog post title comes to you from Mr. John Mellencamp, “Lonely Ol’ Night“

In which the wine is damned good

What went before: That was a quick 1000-ish words. I must be on the right track. The WIP entire now tips the word meter at! +/-55,075.

I’m done for the day. Tomorrow’s treats include the arrival of Ideal Electric, to subject the generator to its annual inspection, and, in the evening, needleworking at the library. We will also be looking for temperatures in excess of 90F/32C, which is never fun.

And on that note — everybody stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

SNIPPET:
“The wine is well-chosen,” she murmured in Liaden, then slanted a look up into speculative silver eyes, and added, “Damn, that’s good.”

“That the refreshment pleases you must gratify me,” Shan answered politely. He sipped, sighed, and murmured, “Ain’t it, though?”

Tuesday. Sunny, already warm, and aimed for hot, the first of three. Curtains are closed, station air is on; trash and recycling are at the curb.

Breakfast was roast beef and Swiss on whole grain bread with a side of cherries. Lunch will be, err, something.

Trooper is currently in the bathroom, eating his second snack on the day; my second cup of tea is to hand.

I woke up just before 7, but did not start the day with jets hot. There was, for instance, Tali to be stroked and murmured to, as she’s decided that a little morning spoil before arising is good for her complexion, then Rookie got shut in the bedroom closet — I swear to GHU I’m puttin’ a bell on that cat — Firefly made a Formal Solicitation to be brushed, Trooper had to have his first snack, and so on.

Looking at the to-do list, I may not get any writing done today, though if things go faster than expected, I may be able to grab an hour.

I called a critter removal service yesterday, but haven’t heard back yet. I’ll give them today, then move on to Number Two on the list.

And that’s it — another day in the exciting, drama-filled life of a working writer.

What’s your day looking like?

Flashback to yesterday afternoon:  All paws wanted to inspect my new haircut: