The Thursday blog post, with footnotes

So, recovery is a strange country.  I’m not in the habit of thinking that I actually do very much of an ordinary day, so it’s a little — no, make that considerably — annoying when I can’t complete what I consider to be a normal day’s to-do list.

Yesterday being a case in point.  I went to the gym, did my strength training, pushing a little, because you’re supposed to challenge yourself, amirite? — walked 1.11 miles in 21 minutes (this includes the cool down), and tried to feel that this was a success*.  Then I went to the grocery store, came home, and — smashed right into a wall. I was exhausted.  Steve made lunch, and after I still couldn’t keep my head up, so I jettisoned the rest of the to-do list and spent the afternoon under a shifting blanket of cats, reading.

Man, I hate hitting walls.

Today, it’s snowing (the Weatherbeans are calling 4-9 inches), and is any way a non-gym day, and here we have the to-do list:

1  Keep front steps accessible

2  Make refrigerator soup for lunch

3  Get with the accountant’s tax packet: at least print it out and get the letter in the mail

4  Strip bed and wash sheets — already in process

5  Hit the Command Chair with the Mead 5-star notebook** and a pen and organize the short story I’ve been working up scenes for while I should be thinking about something else

. . .It seems a very slight list, but the idea is to Hit No Walls, and if that means vacuuming tomorrow, then — the cats get an extra day of peace and quiet.


*(This was after the first treadmill I was on spontaneously leapt from 3 mpg to 14 — I hit the STOP realfast, youbetcha, but wow, what a rush.  The scary part being that the Planet Fitness associate on the spot couldn’t figure out Why It Had Done That.  I hope it doesn’t catch somebody else.)

**Apropos of Nothing Much, I’ve been chewing through the Mead notebook, which is lovely to write on with the fountain pens. Anticipating its final page, I bought a six-pack of Smart Campus “subject notebooks” by Kokuyo, offered by JetPens, which are supposed to be the bee’s knees for fountain pen use. We’ll see, eventually, I guess. Maybe even soon, given the fact that there’s this OTHER short story I really want to write, too, and have been putting it off because its a Maine Coast story, in the Archers Beach universe, but not set in Archers Beach, which no one will want to read, but sometimes you gotta just get stuff out of the way.

In which the Blue Scooter Arrives…Eventually

The Blue Scooter is in-house. Well. Garage.

Funny story about the scooter: It was supposed to have arrived between 3:45 and 7:45, only it didn’t. I was still waiting at 8:10, when a note popped into my mailbox from the Scooter Vendor, telling me that my package had been delivered to the garage at — wait for it — 4:45.

Given I was supposed to sign for the Scooter, this information surprised, but — UPS must’ve told the vendor, right? when the delivery was made? So, I scrambled outside to discover that!

There was no 34-poundish box in the garage.

The Other Side neighbor was walking down her drive, and it has occasionally happened that past deliveries for us have arrived on her kitchen steps, so I went across the lawn to talk to her, and — long story short — no scooter.

I then logged into MY UPS, which gives you the news straight from the TRUCK. And the TRUCK said — still out for delivery.

Oh. Great.

We waited some more and at 8:34, the TRUCK said — your package is in the garage.

Mind you, I have not signed for this thing, but — yes, the package was in the garage. Steve and I looked at each other, shrugged, and sealed up the garage for the night.

I mean – honestly!

We figure what happened was that, when the driver realized he was going to miss the delivery window UPS had guaranteed the vendor, he triggered the “delivery” button for the vendor. The vendor then sent me a message, stoopid vendor. If they had minded their own business, I wouldn’t have gotten all excited or had a chance to have a nice chat with the neighbor I see least.

Once the actual delivery was made, the Truck gave me the Factual Truth.

Anyhow. All’s well that ends well.

Or something like that.

Today, we have Assembled the Blue Scooter. Steve suggests it could reasonably be named Schrödinger, which is true. It could also easily bear Heisenberg. I will consider.

In the meantime, it’s bread-baking day, and also writing and all like that, so I’d better get going.

And, before I do get going: A shout-out to all the people who pitched in and got those quotes transcribed! You guys are AWESOME!

Wanna help the authors with a project?

So!  Who needs something to do?

Yeah, I know; me neither.

But!  If you do, indeed have time to do a little typing, we have a little typing to be done.

Steve and I are planning to do a retrospective on Welcome to Liad — which will feature all of the author quotes our books have gathered over the years and the re-issues.

However!  This means that we need to have those quotes in a file, which — we don’t.

If you would like to type the quotes from the front cover, inside front, and back cover of one book into a reply to this message that will help us get this thing going.

Titles that have author quotes follow.  Be aware that some of the quotes included in the Meisha Merlin editions are quite lengthy.  Some are more like letters, or reviews. Also, some of the quotes are short bits from actual reviews, from, say Publisher’s Weekly or Analog — those are also typing fodder.

OK, then — titles!

Meisha Merlin Titles:
Plan B
Partners in Necessity
Pilots Choice
I Dare
Crystal Soldier
Crystal Dragon
Balance of Trade

Ace Titles:
Local Custom
Scout’s Progress
Agent of Change
Conflict of Honors
Carpe Diem
Plan B
I Dare
Balance of Trade
Crystal Soldier
Crystal Dragon

Baen Titles:
Mouse and Dragon
Ghost Ship
Dragon Ship
Necessity’s Child
Trade Secret
Dragon in Exile
Alliance of Equals
The Gathering Edge
The Dragon Variation
The Agent Gambit
Korval’s Game
The Crystal Variation

If you’re willing to play this silly game, please type the title and edition of the book you are typing from at the top of your entry.  Form for the review is:

A genuine treat for Liaden fans. Rich with detail — the best yet.
Barry B. Longyear, author of Naked Came the Robot

If no work is included after the author’s name in your chosen title, that’s OK, just leave it like it is, and we’ll figure it out.

So, there you have it.  If you’re willing to play — go for it!  If not, thanks for listening!