Category: Survivalism

Now in Ring One: Rookie the Cookie vs Firefly the Fireball

All righty, then. Sunday! Cloudy with occasional sun, breezy, and cool.

Up at 6:15, thanks to Cat Rasslin’ on the bed. I complained to the contestants and evicted them, but by the time all that was done, I really wanted a cup of tea. Management has since informed me that the bout had been scheduled and that I should read the newsletter.

Breakfast was toasted cheese bread and grapes, because that counts as breakfast. Lunch will be (some of) the lopsided bean loaf in tomato sauce, with a side salad.

First load of laundry on the day is drying, second washing.

I am remiss in reporting that Sea Wrack and Changewind: All of the Archers Beach stories, has broken 100 preorders, and in fact rejoices in 121! The ebook will publish on December 17. I’ll be laying out the paper editions this week. More news on that as there’s news to report.

It has been Revealed to me that the reason Lee-and-Miller could get so much stuff done is because it was Lee-and-Miller. Even as we lamented the damage and inevitable slowing down caused by chronic exposure to time, it’s still true that two were quicker than one. That Revelation having been received and swallowed, I (re)joined the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance, and now I need to investigate the benefits of that membership, which is said to include help in promotion.

Chores on the day include flattening boxes — always cathartic — cleaning up the computer desktop which has gotten, um, really out of hand, and making back-ups to transfer to the new computer when it arrives. Also, I need to somehow get the Samsung TV to admit that PBS Passport exists. Thank ghu for the Sheer Amount of Technology in this house — I have located one of several bluetooth keyboards, which I hope will be useful in opening communication.

And I think that will do for the morning report. The cats are variously deployed, and Rook (Rasslin’ Name: Rookie the Cookie) is, grumpily, wearing his harness.

Writers have hobbies, too

Back in The Day, I used to do needlework.   Then, my hands went bad, and I stopped for awhile, by which I mean 30 years.

Much more recently, I had been prescribed drugs that did really nasty things to my joints and muscles, especially my hands, and in desperation, I took up needle-and-thread again, hoping to restore some kind of flexibility to my fingers, because you’d be amazed how often you need your fingers in this life.

To my surprise, working with a needle has helped return suppleness to my fingers, which had already been somewhat improved by bidding the meds good-bye.

So, now I have a hobby, which means y’all are going to be troubled from time to time with pictures of the Work in Process.

Here’s the current sampler, front on the left; back on the right.

 

 

 

 

 

In business news, Steve and I are still working on the next book (which is a Jethri book), and have a couple short stories under contract.  A new mass market paperback edition of Local Custom is scheduled for the fall.

We have both been vaccinated, and it’s getting hard to resist the lure of the sudden spring sunshine.  Two weeks ago, Maine was a grey and mud-brown mess.  Now, everything’s greening up, and pollen is in the air.

For those who have no interest in embroidery.  Here’s a picture of Sprite.

 

Ketchup Post

Because, in the dialect of my youth, “ketchup” is pronounced “catch up.”  Or possibly the other way around.

Before I get started with the catching up of bidness, I have some, eh, Breaking News. We have been talking to Baen re narrators for the Audible edition of Trader’s Leap. We don’t have a date — hell, we don’t even actually have a narrator — but the fact that we’re having this discussion would seem to indicate that the audiobook is moving forward.

We now return you to your irregularly scheduled blog.

I have slightly too much on my plate at the moment, which is my excuse for the irregular updates here.

So, what is on your plate, I hear you ask.  Well, I will tell you.

Deep edit of a story that wouldn’t leave Steve alone, working title “The Port Chavvy Comet.”  I hope to have that done by the end of this weekend, so it can start making its way to chapbookhood.

Also!  I am the Front Office here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory, which means, I do the accounting, and interface with the accountant re taxes.  Even if the story isn’t done by tomorrow night, it will on Monday take second place to Getting the Tax Stuff Ready for the Accountant.

I’m taking a pain management course, which has quite a bit of homework attached to it.  Turns out that it’s true what they say, If ya wanna manage pain and stuff, you gotta sing loud.  And do the homework.

I’m still learning the new way of eating mandated by the Cancer Survivalist Program.  Which means I’m doing a lot more Actual Cooking, which is swell, because the new diet is, on the whole, very tasty, but that’s time I used to spend on other things, like, yanno, blogging.

Speaking of post-cancer living, that also comes with homework.  Who knew?  There’s walking and other exercise to be done, and while I have a walking and exercise schedule previous to my mastectomy, if I got into a writing crunch, I ignored  it.  Not an option anymore, along with the previous I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead lifestyle.

So, I guess what I’m saying is that a brush with mortality provides both a new lens and an…opportunity to re-organize.  Given that, I’m still re-organizing.

Those who are tired of the whole cancer discussion, can skip the next bit.

It turns out that coming back from cancer therapy is kind of like unboxing a matryoshka — or, more accurately, like putting one together.

Post-op, you feel lousy; then over a period of weeks, you feel less lousy; then you feel like maybe you could actually walk fifteen minutes a day, in five-minute shifts, around the upstairs of the hours. Gradually you get that 15 minutes into one Monster Shift, until one day you feel a lot better, well enough to go downstairs and walk for fifteen — or twenty! — minutes altogether. A little after that, you find that you’re bored, so you start swatting a Wiffle ball at the wall with your pickleball bat; and suddenly you’re walking 25/30 minutes at a go, and upping the pace, and one day you realize that you’re gonna have to increase the time to 35/40, and! that you’ve out-strengthed the size of your Wall Ball court.

So, my new project, with Steve’s help, is to set up a Tai Chi space in the wall ball court downstairs. We have a couple of screens that are good enough for video, we have Frank the old Windows 7 computer, we have a Windows compatible DVD player, and! we have Tai Chi DVDs. There’s no need for Frank to access the internet, which I understand is a very dangerous place for a machine of his age and persuasion, but he can interface between the DVD player and the screen, and I? can dance daibri‘at.

So, yeah, that’s another new project on the plate.

I hope to get back to more regular blogging here, as the rest of my new schedule takes shape around me.  In the meantime, thank you for your care and your patience.  I love you all.