Everybody talks about the weather – Page 6

Quick update

EPIC thunderstorm came through while we were eating lunch. Lost 13 degrees and flooded the kitchen floor! You know your thunderstorm’s a success when the kitchen floor floods. The weatherbeans have us under a storm watch until 7:00 tonight, so we may have more excitement in our immediate future. Next time, though, we’ll close the kitchen door, even if the wind is amazing!

And! Because I know y’all are on the edge of your chairs: Update on the status of Alliance of Equals.

1. I have finished inputting all the correx. Manuscript now stands at more-or-less 102,638 words. Also? We have used up every sticky tab in the house.

2. The rest of today and tomorrow will involve writing and polishing the final scenes. (No, it’s fine. Really. Everything’s on schedule. Promise.)

2a. After we’re satisfied with 2, we’ll need to double-check if we need to go back and sharpen That Scene There, or if it plays well as it is.

3. Steve is putting the finishing touches on the Cast of Characters.

4. We anticipate a smooth compiling and that the manuscript will be on Madame’s desk on Monday. So we can, yanno, pack.

And that’s it. Situation normal. Except for the packing part. Also, I’m liable to spend a lot of our non-bookstore-time sleeping on this tour, because — end-of-book brain.

I’m turning the internets off now so I can get some work done. Y’all stay safe.

Even more Liaden eBooks!

Those who have been following along at home will recall that, for a very long time, the only way to get the first 9 (excluding Agent of Change, which has been, and is, available as a free ebook from Baen Free Library and from the Kindle Store) Liaden novels in ebook form was by buying the Baen omnibus editions. Which was great, because, hey, you had All The Stories — but it did mean that you had to remember which book was in which omnibus, if you wanted to read one particular novel, or, if you, as many do, have a Preferred Reading Order, that you had to jump around from omnibus to omnibus.

Well!

Baen has now released the first 10 Liaden Universe® novels — Agent of Change to Crystal Dragon — as single ebooks, (previously only available from Baen ebooks) to Amazon, to BN, to iBooks — oh, heck — to your favorite online bookstore!

In other news, it’s a gorgeous, breezy and ultra-green day outside my window, which I have open, so that I can hear the rustle of leaves, and benefit from the occasional waft of lilac-scent, while I finish up here on Langlastport.

Everybody have a great day!

In which it’s Tuesday and there is no mail

. . .I hate it when the mailman gives us a miss. Even when the mail is just catalogs, at least we’ve gotten something. Not finding any mail in the box leaves me wrong-footed on the day, somehow.

So, a rambling kind of post while the backbrain gets on the case. I need, let’s see. . .six? seven? scenes, a climax, a denouement, and a wrap up. Is that so hard? Oh, and a cast of characters. If the backbrain isn’t forking over, yet, on the Actual Writing Front, I can edit the working lexicon down to a reasonable list. Thirty-five hundred words is probably a little long in the dramatis personae business. Do you guys like your Players List in the front of the book or the back?

I’d like to thank everyone who has helped in the various fundraising efforts we’re presently undertaking, whether by subscribing to our Patreon account, supporting Splinter Universe, or directly supporting us, through PayPal, and by check. You guys are amazingly kind and we are humbled by your generosity. . . .Please note that I speak here for myself and for Steve. The cats aren’t really on top of the whole Where Crunchies Come From thing; they leave that sort of thing to Staff.

Weather-wise, we’re into our second day of rain, here in Central Maine, and the snow is, for all useful purposes, gone. As far as my eye can see, there is mud, and last year’s brown grasses, and bare, grey trees. We look to have lost three buffer evergreens over the winter. Some of the maples are pushing out buds; can’t really tell about the birches, or the ash. Well. A few weeks will tell. Meanwhile, the daffodils are making a valiant effort to rise tall and get the trumpets out. I fear me this will be one of those seasons when they give their all, but fall short of a win. Hopefully, they’ll prove me wrong.

Given that the snow is now gone, we can see, among the dead grass, the Trash of Winter, which means that, if it ever stops raining, we’ll be able to go outside and stamp around the property, picking up soda/beer cans, shreds of blue tarp, old paper bags, the occasional whiskey bottle, and who knows what else. The process by which trash gets under ten feet of snow is a mystery to me. A friend suggests that it’s put there by snowmen, who are pissed off by humans sticking carrots in the middle of their faces.

Makes as much sense as anything else.

One of the results of having been stupidly ill for ‘way too long back around the winter holidays, was that I lost 10 pounds. Now that it’s been a number of months since I regained my health, and I haven’t regained the weight, I’ve gotten ambitious. I like being. . .less close to 200 pounds, and would like to widen the distance by another 10 pounds, if possible. I can’t say I much care for the method by which I shed the first 10, though, and, as someone who was very thin for most of her adult life (insert Ironic Theme here), I don’t actually know how to go about dieting. I would go to the gym and exercise and walk in order to keep flexible and strong, but as far as I’ve ever been told exercise isn’t really an effective way to lose weight. For now, I’m just making a conscious effort to Eat Less Food (which is tough, because, having also been, ah. . .cash challenged. . .for most of my adult life, “wasting” food is a big no-no). Now that Winter is Out and Mud is In, I’ll be able to get walking again, which will be a relief all around, and I guess if all I do is not backslide those 10 pounds, then I’m that much to the good.

And now? Time to get back to the backbrain.

See you on the flipside.

Sprite, on Author Assist

In which the rain in Maine falls mostly on the snow

So yesterday Steve had a doctor’s appointment, after which we achieved K(entucky) F(ried) C(hicken) for a take home lunch (hot grease and salt still do the trick, and that’s the second KFC meal in four months. Given that KFC is the Ultimate Comfort Food, and reserved for times of stress, we’ll hope that the next is a long time in the future).

After lunch, Steve hit the mattress. I finished getting the InfoDump in order, then sacked out on the couch, where Trooper joined me. May I just say? Trooper gives excellent nap.

Once we were all awake again, we reviewed one of our favorite documentary films, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, before supper, read aloud a chapter of Chanur’s Legacy, and so to bed.

A strenuous day.

Today, there is checkbook wrangling, and writing, and laundry on the schedule.

Also, watching the rain disappear the snow:

Trooper and Sprite watching the snow melt

I hope everyone has an excellent Friday.

OK, that? Was no fun at all

Given that we here at the Confusion Factory are now laboring under a Blizzard Warning, we had one more go at trying to move the snow off the roof of the deck. This method involved affixing a plastic jug half-filled with water to 100 feet of rope, whaling the jug over the snow peak on the roof (it was gratifying to find that, after a couple a false starts, that I still have my throwing arm), and then dragging it back through, thereby breaking up the snow and allowing it to Fall. Off. The. Damn. Roof.

This actually worked. To a point. Not, alas, to a useful point, and there were those long minutes during which it looked like we were not going to be able to retrieve our instruments. We finally achieved that, and it must be said that some snow did come off the roof during the recovery process. A great deal of it fell down inside my Number Two Jacket (the one without the hood) and into my only pair of Real Winter Gloves. My blue sweater was roundly soaked, as well. On the other hand, the new boots kept my feet dry, and my purple striped Smartwool ski socks kept them warm.

During this frenzy of activity, we flushed a turkey out from beneath the deck. A rather skinny turkey, I’m sorry to say.

We did have a nice, sunny day to work in, though there was a sharp breeze that brought the balmy 9F/-13C down to -10F/-23C.

Well. It is winter, after all.

The blizzard, by the way — we’re under a Blizzard Warning, which is what started all this — is supposed to start tomorrow-Saturday, noon-ish and blow itself out by Monday morning, around 7 a.m., after having dumped 18-24 inches of snow on top of the 40 or so inches already covering the landscape.

At this point, we’re just going to have to hope that Todd built the deck roof out of titanium.

Trooper and Sprite showed moral support for our efforts against the weather by staying inside and making sure that the blue chair didn’t make a break for it while our attention was elsewhere.

This chair ain't going NOwhere — This chair ain’t going NOwhere

Back at so-called Real Life. . .

Many thanks to everyone who expressed their condolences. Your kindness is much appreciated.

Today was about putting away the detritus of Doing Taxes, packing some books to mail, and trying to shovel snow off the roof of the deck, because there’s approximately five hundred and thirty-three tons of snow up there, and while Todd built it to withstand a Maine winter, I’m pretty sure we’re approaching its reasonable load-bearing capacity.

Now, the problem with raking the roof is. . .it’s ‘waaaaaay up there. Also, I can only rake the side that is directly over the steps. Mount Snowplow defends it from a frontal approach. And a large fall of snow in front of the basement door defends it from the back.

Possibly, yes, I could climb over the rail and stand on Mount Snowplow, but I deem that a tad risky. It may bear my weight. Or it may bear my weight for a while. If I break through, there’ll be no getting me out until autumn. If I miss my footing and slide down the wrong side, I’d either have to scale the Mount on its smooth side, or lay down on my belly and swim across the snow like an otter, alllllll the way around the base of the Mount until I came to a place where it’s possible to climb over the berm, to the driveway.

Also, I don’t do ladders. At all. Never mind ladders unsteadily braced on snow and ice.

Which leaves standing on the steps, heaving the rake repeatedly up to the roof and dragging buckets of snow down onto my own head. Yes, yes; it’s a comedy act.

It’s also relatively futile. I’ve raked off the snow I can reach, but there’s plenty too much up there, and no way for me to disturb it enough so it will start moving, say, down the slope of the roof, and off , adding to the consequence of our temporary mountain.

Gah.

In other news, Steve is still struggling with the disappearance of korval.com, and attempting to make it appear again. Very sorry for the continued bouncing mail, and other inconveniences. If you have written to either of us at a korval.com address, and have gotten a bounce message, best to send again, to our gmail addresses.

It remains eerily quiet in my office. I keep glancing over to the corner that Mozart frequented most during the last few months — and it’s empty, of course. The lack of his presence is almost a presence of itself.

Tomorrow, I am turning off All The Things, and Shutting All of the Doors so I can work. I’m starting to get very cranky with regard to not working. *glares at universe*

And, to make up, at least a little, for the tone of this post, I offer you two coon cats in a box too small for one — and good evening.

Well, I’m baffled

We here at the Confusion Factory are either going to receive, on the overnight, 1 inch of snow, or in excess of 6. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, someone has gone to the trouble of identifying the 10 “most dangerous” cities in Maine. Always understanding that “dangerous” is relative. Interestingly, or not, we have lived in Skowhegan, which takes the top spot in overall crime per capita, and holds the cherished position of fifth most dangerous metropolis in Maine; and also in Waterville, which has the fourth highest overall crime rate. We aspire to improve ourselves, however, and shift south to Lucky Number Seven.

Here’s your link to the article.

We came first to Skowhegan, when we settled in Maine, and, since we needed to earn money, as one does, I applied for the advertised position of bartender at what was then the Kennebec Valley Inn. I’ll mention here that I’ve always been plagued by an innocent-seeming demeanor, and people constantly mistake me for a lady. The owner took one look at me and said, “Nope, oh no, no way. You can’t work here. It’s too rough.”

Mind you, I had just moved from Baltimore (second only to. . .Elkton?. . .in danger of the much more dangerous Maryland variety. Here’s the link.), where we had maintained a storage facility, where I had very nearly crushed a man’s hand with a pipe to stop him from dragging me across the counter by the front of my shirt — and I said to him, “Oh, c’mon, how rough can it be?”

“You have no idea,” he told me, fervently.

And I didn’t get the job. And after a few weeks of taking the local paper and perusing the police blotter, I was glad I hadn’t gotten the job. I’d’ve never kept my nail polish from chipping.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

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Progress on Alliance of Equals
45,943/100,000 OR 45.9% COMPLETE

Perhaps he could simply suggest to the breeze that he was a sack of potatoes, and thus be safely ignored.

I see that you are a logger, and not just a common bum

Well, let’s see. . .

Tuesday into Wednesday, we hosted a nor’easter here in Central Maine — and in the rest of Maine, too; I don’t want you to think that anybody was left out of the festivities.

We here at the Cat Farm were the joyful recipients of 19 inches/48.6 cm of fluffy white snow, kind of the mid-range of snowfall for the storm. Yesterday into today, we had another little snowstorm, this one without the high winds that had accompanied the nor’easter, which graced us with another 14 inches/35.6 cm of slightly-less-fluffy snow. As I type this, it is not snowing, and we rejoice in a total snowfall for the week of 33 inches/83.8 cm.

This is the point where the top of Mount Snowplow is just slightly higher than the, err, deck of the deck. The stairs from the deck to the driveway are in a kind of snow tunnel, which would be cool if it were high enough to protect the stairs from accumulating any more storm product, but — no. Only high enough that I can’t shove the snow off the step and under the bannisters, to the sides. From now on, step-snow will either need to be lifted to the top of Mount Snowplow, or shoved straight down to the driveway, and dealt with there.

You may have caught what I did there: “From now on. . .” That’s because the weatherbeans have discovered another snowstorm — a little snowstorm — heading for Central Maine on Monday, bearing a gift of 6-11 inches/15.2-27.9 cm of snow, winds, and very cold temperatures.

I foresee a trip to the grocery store tomorrow, to stock up on Mozart’s Favorite Sort, and other, less essential items, for us.

The good news is that, after Monday’s Weather, we’re in the clear for the foreseeable future, snow-wise. Well. Except for the gentle dusting of 3ish inches/7.6 cm over Wednesday night, but, really, that’s just Business as Usual.

Now, in between all this exciting weather — on Wednesday, in fact, we got a call from our realtor, letting us know that someone wanted to see our house rather early on Saturday. We were dubious, but we straightened up, insomuchas, and got up early this morning to vacuum (so as to get all the cat fur) and to shovel out what snow had accumulated on the overnight.

The only problem was — it was still snowing. And? Maine DOT had issued a warning, stating that only emergency traffic ought to be on the roads, and — long story short, the showing was canceled, to be rescheduled sometime next week, which is fine — better safe, I always say, and, anyhow, the plowguy didn’t get to us ’til afternoon, so it was just as well.

However, it did make for a. . .rather strange day, here at the Cat Farm, one that included a rather lengthy nap.

It’s amazing how much the weather can toy with your plans, even when you live indoors.

How are y’all weathering the Weather where you are?

In other news, though still related to the weather (this is a post about the weather), I teasingly introduced a friend to “The Frozen Logger,” (from which today’s blog title derives) and now of course, I can’t get the damn’ thing out of my head. So! I share!

Here’s your link to the Weavers’ rendition of The Frozen Logger.

* * *

Progress on Alliance of Equals
44,526/100,000 OR 44.5% COMPLETE

“It’s nothing short of astonishing, how often boldness is found to be its own reward.”