Tag: blog

The Day from Heck: A Disaster in Six Parts

What went before ONE: The korval site…I’m updating pages that were created in 2012, in case there are some people around who think we’re fly-by-night.

…I’m remembering one con runner who told us that when our names would come up for GOH at the meetings for various cons (he was involved in several, as many fans are), the typical reaction was half the room would say, “Whoa! Steve and Sharon! Yeah, we gotta have THEM!” Meanwhile the other half of the room would be looking at each other and saying, “Wait. What? WHO?”)

Which brings me to the very reasonable question of why I’m going to BaltiCon to stand up in front of an auditorium full of people and Say Things, all of which is going to be Rather Stressful.

And the reason is — Granting that Steve and I are lifemates, which I at least believe, the Text says: While one lives, both stand. I wear both of our wedding rings to remind me of that principle. And Steve would have wanted to go to his very first home in SFdom and receive the award in person. He would have been glad and proud, and I’m not the one to deny him — or if you like, his memory — this small joy.

Note that this doesn’t mean that I’m not pleased and proud — I am. But if I had been deciding only for myself, I might have made different choices.

TWO: And I just went downstairs to find water all over the floor. Apparently, the water heater is leaking. Yes, the one that was replaced on Thanksgiving Day in 2022.
. . .waiting for the plumber, and had to cancel my lunch date.

grump

THREE: And the plumber just left. It’s not the hot water tank, it’s the unit between the boiler and the hot water tank and that? Falls into the honor of Dead River, with whom I have a service contract.

Have called. I’m promised that someone will be out today.

FOUR: Dead River guy has replaced the faulty unit, so all I have to do is mop up the water.

In other news, the accountant called. I can pick up my taxes tomorrow. I owe money, which surprises no one, though — filing under “blessings, small” — I’m still taxed at the married-filing-jointly rate this one last time.

Somehow, this day has gotten away from me.

FIVE: So, I remembered that there was a wet/dry vac huddling under a table in the basement, and that speeded things up considerably. I slipped coming down the, um, “stairs” to the basement hatch after I went outside to empty the dirty water, which means that I probably need to find somebody to make me a set of actually usable steps, but other than that, the large puddles are no more and the goblin room, where the hot water heater and all that sort of thing live, is plenty warm enough for evaporation to do its thing.

I did lose a small throw rug, which was Just Saturated, and is probably the reason that the common room wasn’t any wetter than it was.

I’m going to try to write a couple hundred words, but this? Was not the day I had planned.

SIX: Yeah, that twang you heard was my last nerve snapping.

Pause for a couple glasses of wine, some coon cat lap time, reading, and sleep

Thursday. Looks like it rained overnight. cloudy and coolish.

Breakfast is a KIND bar and a cup of tea. There will at least be another cup of tea, if not *several* more cups of tea in my immediate future.

Ashley’s due in this morning, and I have done the picking up. I need to print out some things to take with me back to Steve’s office when she arrives, so I may be able to get some things done, as I wasn’t able to yesterday.

Today, started with two successes in the mail, so I’m *really* hoping for a far different kind of day today.

I have to run out this afternoon to pick up the taxes. And since Trooper, after a brief few hours of respite, has returned to being “not right,” I’ll call the vet for prednisone, and pick that up while I out and about.

Tonight is ASL class. What with It All, I’m still a little rocky on the vocab and if anybody wants me to count higher than ten, we’re going to have to find a piece of paper and a pen.

And that’s all I know about anything at the moment.

What do you know?

Trooper helped me read the sample of The Space Between Worlds last night.

Updates and speeches, oh my

What went before (late morning edition): Have foraged. Came home, put away the perishables, made myself a cup of cocoa, and retired to the Command Chair to finish reading The Tomb of Dragons. I may need to go back to Witness for the Dead and reread all three in one go, but not right now. Right now, I believe I’ll move on to The Orb of Cairado.

I’m presently waiting for prospective lawn guy to show up to view the Long Back Yard and give me a price and a plan.

After that I’ll have lunch and see what I feel like doing.

I note that Informed Delivery tells me I have a personal letter from the SSA unit here in the city. Which isn’t terrifying at all.

Fans of the The Rookie will be pleased to know that he continues to come when he’s called, which is fine by me and convenient for him as well. I inadvertently shut him in the hall closet. A little later, as I was giving out treats, I noticed that there was no Rook present, which is highly unusual. I called out, as one does, “Rook? Where is that Rookie?” heard a loud AaaRW! from the foyer and went to let him out.

What went before (evening edition): So, I got involved in trying to update korval.com, which is one of those tasks that will never end, but I got some stuff brought into this year, and some other stuff brought into the current decade.

I also made a rough start on my acceptance speech, and added a little bit to a scene, so the WIP can’t complain that it’s been ignored.

Prospective lawn guy came, toured the Long Back Yard, and promises to send me a couple of plans with prices.

Tomorrow, I’m meeting a friend for lunch, and I should probably bake a loaf of bread either before or after. I still need to tinker with the directories on korval.com, but that may be all I’m up for.

The letter from the local SSA office that I was worried about was only the annual reminder that I have filed an Advanced Designation of Representation with them, so that was a relief.

Coon cat happy hour happened early so I could finish updating the webpage I was working on, and now it’s time for me to review my homework again (see what happens?), and then segue into the evening.

. . . onward . . .

Wednesday. Sunny and warm.

Breakfast was rice crackers and cream cheese and one of Those Little Oranges. Lunching at Portland Pie Company with a friend. Need to make a pot of rice so I’ll have it on-hand.

Tali and Rook are Working Something Out. The entails a lot of Tali smacking Rook in the head, lashing tails, and face-making. Occasionally, Rook will throw himself at Tali, using his extra weight to knock her over, but that’s not a Winning Strategy. Tali just wraps herself around him, latches into his sides with her front claws and kicks the heck out of him with her hind feet.

. . . I think she’s done this before.

Anyhow, this will either teach Rook Science, or not to mess with Tali. Or possibly both. I haven’t heard any bad words, so I am assuming that this has to do with the Feline Organizational Chart, and the eventual deployment of contractual tasks regarding the care and keeping of the thumbs, whose well-being is necessary to the comfort of cats.

Trooper is lazing in the sun. Firefly was on the back of the sofa, and available to receive pets and soft words of admiration, which were of course forthcoming.

I figured out that one of the reasons I like the Garmin watch is because it’s not … cute. Frequent readers will recall that I have a Limited Capacity for cute, most of which is used up by the birb and his adventures. The Garmin is friendly; it explains itself, but it’s not … huggy. Our relationship is well within my comfort zone.

Last night I read the teaser for Ministry of Time, which was — all right? I mean, if I had had the whole book, I would have kept on reading, but I don’t know that I’m motivated to go out and buy the rest of the story.

And that’s all I’ve got here in my very small and insular corner of the world.

What’s going on in your corner of the world?

Talkin’ trash

What went before: It was an intermittently awful afternoon. I blame the rain. Tali and Rook both had a go at lap-sitting, and were a little tentative. Trooper then stepped in to show them How It’s Done, which — may not have made things better.

Writing, by which I mostly mean rewriting, happened. I now know what needs to happen next on all three lines, which is a great relief.

I was also able to find CJ Cherryh’s remarks on the occasion of her receiving the Heinlein Award, and now I have an idea of how long I might be expected to Say Things, which is also a great relief.

Tomorrow, I need to forage, and then there will be more writing.

Tuesday. Cloudy and chilly. Trash day. I’ll cope with moving bags from the garage to the curb after I have finished this letter to the internets.

Trooper woke me up at 5, for reasons yet to be discovered, though he did allow me to curl up around him and go back to sleep for an hour.

Breakfast was toast and cottage cheese, upgraded from None for Me, Thx, and again from, Oh, well, a piece of toast is breakfast. Don’t even start with me about lunch.

I had sorta kinda wistfully thought that I’d drive down to the ocean today, but that ain’t happenin’. I will be foraging, then doing some picking up around the house. Now that I know that 3 minutes of Remarks is acceptable, I can begin drafting mine.

(Apparently nobody else in the world has to draft their Remarks ahead of time — Steve could certainly do that, and when I had him to feed me lines, or be the straight man, I could ad lib — to a degree — and I’d still be shaking like your linden leaf at the end of it. When it’s Just Me, I need to Plan. So, yes, a huge relief to find that I’m not supposed to stand up in front an auditorium full of people for 20 minutes and talk.)

I’m still fine-tuning the Garmin watch, and this morning realized that it had a Secret Life. I have set bed-and-waking-up times from 10:30 to 7:00, and of course this morning I was up well before 7. And when I looked at my watch face it was not the one had chosen, but the face that had come with, which I had vehemently rejected. Apparently that face is its party clothes. In any case, the minute I looked at it — it blushed, the face flickered just exactly like it was pulling a shirt over its head — and became the one I had chosen.

I hope this moment of embarrassment hasn’t set us back, as I’ve been enjoying our association thus far.

I’m still reading The Tomb of Dragons, which I’ll probably finish this evening. I have The Orb of Cairado in my library, and I’m thinking that will be next.

Who else is foraging today?

Shot from a couple days ago.  Rookie making sure I’ve eaten all my lunch:

Baby, you want the forgivin’ kind and that’s just not my style

What went before: Everything checked off the to-do list except homework. Which is why homework needs to happen in the morning, and after-lunch is writing time.

We’ll figure it out.

Tomorrow, we are to have rain. I will be staying in. The cats have planned a quiet day of napping in honor of St. Gertrude.

And with all that said, and Coon Cat Happy Hour coming right up!

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

. . .

A blessed St. Gertrude’s day to all.

Monday. Raining. Flooding is in our future, though probably not in my personal future, the river being Way Down THERE. One small patch of snow remains in the Long Back Yard.

Breakfast was rice cakes with cream cheese and the last of the sad, black grapes. First cup of tea is well underway. I have a can of tuna and a can of tomato soup. I believe lunch has been decided.

Today is the Actual Anniversary — five years since my mastectomy. About now On That Day, I would have been getting injected with mercury or some such item, much to Steve’s horror, so I could be placed into a machine that would map my innards, pre-op. I remember the tech administering the shot telling me it would hurt. She wasn’t wrong.

The Garmin watch continues to please, even as it adds to the day’s puzzles. Yesterday, I would have — in fact, I believe I did — tell you that I had a mostly quiet and peaceful day, munching through my to-do list, and writing.

Around 8:00, my watch sent me a very kind message, telling me that I had had a Very Stressful Day, poor dear, and should consider relaxing now.

I’ll be interested to see how this plays out, going forward. It may be that the watch and I have Very Different Takes on Stress.

Today, my choice is either to go back to bed or write, so I believe I will write.

What are your choices today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Bachman-Turner Overdrive, a Canadian band, for no reason other than the fact that I’m listening to the radio and the DJ just said that he had never thought of the band as Canadian. OHkay.  Anyhow, if you need to get moving, as who does not:  “Let it Ride.”

Below, a picture of the Hall Blockers Cadets St. Gertrude’s Day project:

Tali’s natal day, clockwork edition

What went before: Well. My watch is updating. I am not accustomed to the watch being my main point of information, so that will be a change. Also, some things that are I guess supposed to be intuitive — aren’t. Like, yanno, putting on the band. I did finally figure it out, but Jeez Louise as somebody once said.

I did get my reading of the WIP done, despite It All. It’s not Terrible, there are some things that are in the wrong place, but since I’m trying to match at least three separate timelines so that everybody can arrive at their meeting at the right times, that’s probably, oh, normal instead of evidence of a Descent into Dementia.

Yanno? When I was twenty, I never worried about a Descent into Dementia. Just sayin’.

I should probably go find some cheese to put on a piece of bread, brew a cup of chamomile tea, and take it and my book with me to bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow, which is!

Tali’s third birthday.

Sunday. Cloudy. Well. I suppose I can concede to the Weatherbeans in this. Foggy. I am led to believe that it will be foggy all day, which I suppose is possible, at the rate that the snow is sublimating. The Long Back Yard is more grass than snow. I was just watching a crow sorting through dead leaves and old grass and fly off with a beakful into the Really Tall Pine Tree, so I’ll guess I’ll have new neighbors.

Breakfast was biscuit with sausage and a slice of cheddar with black grapes. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will be — yeah, whatever. Maybe a scone.

As planned, I just put myself and my book into bed at 9, and read while I drank my tea. Firefly and Rook joined me in the bed. Tali took the overlook position at the top of the bookcase. The new watch says I had a “highly restorative” sleep of 7 hours and 40 minutes, with lots of Deep and REM, which have been in short supply lately, and probably why I’ve been feeling so tired.

I must say that I’m enjoying Mr. Harney’s Egyptian Chamomile tea. I’m alternating with the Republic of Tea Chamomile Lemon that a friend sent me, which I’m also enjoying. I’m trying to simplify my life, but I really do think that I’ll order in replacements of both.

I am not dizzy this morning, and I’m counting that a win. I am feeling rather meh (Note to Weatherbeans: Some sunshine would help over here), so, as advised by my new notepad, I made a list, and I do feel (a little) better. On the list is a blankie run, changing out the cat fountains, buying cpap supplies, homework, and writing.

Writing may only be working with the correx/additions I identified yesterday, but that still counts. And! one of the benefits of reading your WIP over (and over and over and…) is that engaging with the story produces more story (i.e. You know what’s missing here? Or, happier: You know what comes next?) I don’t know how writers who just start and flame through to the end of the first draft without ever stopping to read what they’ve already written do it, honestly.

As mentioned previously, today is Tali’s third birthday. She has been celebrating energetically, chasing spring, ball and her kid brother all over the house, so much in motion that I am not at this time able to offer a picture of the Birthday Cat. She did come by and check in with Trooper. He muttered at her, she cleaned his ears, then bolted off to discipline Rook.

The new watch is … interesting. It has a lot more functionality than the FitBit, and is much bigger — despite which, it’s lighter and more comfortable on my wrist. The FitBit and I had never had a warm relationship, even before Google decided to try to force me to buy a Google watch by driving the FitBit insane. By comparison, the Garmin (bear with me, people; we all have to work with the brain we have) is calm and friendly. I’m not used to having so much information on the watch but even so it’s easy to navigate, and I can of course add and subtract the information I want to see. I think I did the right thing.

I’m about halfway through Tomb of the Dragons, and having a good time with it. I had to stop and explain to Firefly that these were not Liaden dragons, because they lived in another book. It’s a hard concept, but I think she got it. At least, she blinked her eyes and went back to sleep.

And that’s it from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

So! Who has sunshine where they are?

Contented Saturday at the Cat Farm

What went before: Thanks to all for the outpouring of positive energy for Trooper. He seems to me to be more relaxed, and we haven’t had an episode of him hitting me in the arm, or sitting by my feet and crying since we got home. So, fingers crossed that we’ve hit on something helpful.

Er — about Catholic school. Y’all have to remember that this was back in — well. does a quick calculation — 1957. People nowadays treat their dogs with more care and gentleness than ’50s kids ever got. IMHO. And Catholic school was worse than how it was on the outside. Also — I was a Repeat Offender. My mother sent me to school early — Not Quite 6, against ALL the advice that she wait until I was Not Quite 7 — I was left-handed, I couldn’t talk straight, I was already in the “retarded class” (the fact that I could read anything that was put in front of me was discounted because — I dunno. Maybe because I read the words in the “right” order proved that I just didn’t care about talking right?)

In any case, no — I wasn’t kidding, and I wasn’t the only kid who got stapled to the bulletin board, or had their knuckles whacked, or — nuns were inventive, let’s just say that. I’m sorry the image disturbed people — it’s just a Thing That Happened, and it was a long time ago.

Thinking about this a little more: It’s one of the Universe’s jokes, I suppose, that I wound up in a career where I was required to sit-or-stand in front of large groups of people and talk.  Even though I had a most excellent front man in Steve, I still had to occasionally same something.

Saturday. Gloomy, though not particularly foggy here by the river. Weatherbeans are calling for temps around 50F/10C again.

Breakfast was oatmeal, cranberries, walnuts. Second cup of tea to hand. Soup defrosting for lunch. I’m a little dizzy this morning, and got off to a slow start. Good thing I can do most of what I need to do sitting down.

I hear from Informed Delivery that my watch, originally scheduled for delivery on Monday, will be delivered today! Ahem. By 6:30pm. I take leave to doubt this, and expect I’ll see it on Monday, per the original plan. If you’d like to start a betting pool, please step over to the left side of the room by the plants so you don’t impede the folks who want to get to the drinks, or the books.

In Real Life News, the hospital in Augusta, which will be taking the brunt of patients cut loose from Inland Hospital when it closes, is quietly freaking out. It’s been revealed that they, too, are in financial distress (honestly, they’ve been short of cash, doctors, and beds pretty much since they opened). Fun times.

Today will be Sedentary, given the dizzy thing. I will have to go downstairs to perform my duty to the cats, but that can wait a bit. Hopefully, the dizzy will abate.

We pause here for an Advertisement, a PSA and! and Author’s Plea.

Advertisement: Don Blyly, aka Uncle Hugo’s SF Bookstore, is mailing out signed hardcover copies of Diviner’s Bow as I speak. If you want a signed copy, email him at unclehugoATaolDOTcom. If you ordered Ribbon Dance from Uncle last year, and your credit card information has not changed, tell him that, too, and you can have your book in hand BEFORE the release date.

PSA: Related to the above: If, after you finish reading Diviner’s Bow, you find you want to talk about there, a Spoiler Space has been created for that purpose, here.

AUTHOR’S PLEA: I know it’s early days, and Amazon won’t open its review page until the release date, but please consider reviewing the book after you have read it. Reviews are vital. You may think that a series that’s been around since 1988 and has a devoted fan base wouldn’t need reviews — and you would be wrong. The Liaden books have been around for so long, they’re just part of the general landscape — people take them for granted. (This also happened to us when we went to cons — “Oh, it’s Steve and Sharon. They’re always around.” Until, yanno; they’re not.)

And with all that out of the way — My plan today is the comfy chair in my office: writing, homework, correspondence, aaaand . . . yeah, that’s it. The cats are all in their comfy spots, having enjoyed a mid-morning snack of crunchy salmon treats from Blue Wilderness, and despite the predicted race for Warmth, it’s a little cool in my office, due to lack of insolation.

Anyhoots, we’re pretty much content, if a little sleepy, here at the Cat Farm today.

Who else is having a contented day?

Interesting Times

What went before:  Northern Light Hospital (a non-profit hospital), which is less than a mile from my house, and one of the several reasons we were so very pleased to find this house when we did, is closing on June 11.  My PCP, cardiologist, womens health, and other specialists are of course all attached to that hospital.  News story here.

Friday. Cold and cloudy-ish when I got up. The sun’s making some inroads now. The weatherbeans are putting their chips on 50F/10C.

First Breakfast was a cup of cottage cheese. Coffee and a scone for early Second Breakfast. If I do this right, I might be able to squeeze in Third Breakfast — and there’s lunch solved.

Trooper is back from the vet. We have mixed news. He was to have had his rabies vaccine and general wellness check today. Despite the fact that I see him eating, and his interest in All the Goodies at Coon Cat Happy Hour, he’s lost weight since I took him in for his anxiety, last month.

Here at home, I haven’t been able to alleviate (or identify a cause for) his ongoing anxiety. (I don’t think he’s reading the news, though I guess Firefly could be keeping him up to date.) His blood work from the previous visit was “normal” (Vet: “Because of course it is.”) His vet pronounces him “frail.” Because he’s a cat, and even more stoic than most cats, we can’t tell if he’s in pain. If he is, it’s generalized and not specific. All that considered, and being unwilling to put him under the systemic stress, the vet did not give him his rabies shot. She did give him a shot of Solensia, which is a pain reliever used for things like arthritis. I’m to watch him, of course, and report back next week.

So, that. Good thoughts for Trooper, if you have them to spare.

Now that I’m home, I intend to stay home for a couple days and spend some Quality Time with my manuscript. It’s possible I can sneak in a drive to the ocean on Sunday or Tuesday.

ASL class was fun and interesting. We are a motivated group, good-natured and easy-going. I have homework, including working out how to spell my parents’ names, which at least this time my security clearance is sufficient to allow access to that information. (In first grade, when Sister asked me what my father’s name was, I said, “Al.” There was a pause before she asked what my mother’s name was, and I said, perfectly confident, “Hon.” And that’s how I wound up standing in the front of the classroom with my hair stapled to the bulletin board.) Also, counting 1-20, and vocabulary words.

I may register for the second session, which starts immediately after this one ends, though I’ll have to miss the last class by reason of traveling to BaltiCon.

. . .and the sun is now sufficiently high in the sky that the frost on the deck has melted and is starting to evaporate.

I finished reading the 8th Lord Julian novel last night, which I think catches me up there, and started reading The Tomb of Dragons.

What are you reading?

Second Breakfast Cat Census:

How we make cat food

What went before: 960 new words, plus some throwing around of ideas, and bringing up to date of the Weird Word List.

I washed the towels. Now I need to fold them and put them away. Oh, and take the extra bread out of the freezer, which I never did, though I said I was going to.

Thursday. Grey and gloomy. Warm, but not as warm as yesterday.

Breakfast was PB&J on toast, first cup of tea is almost done. Lunch will be — um.

Errands this morning, homework review, and ASL class this evening. Those are what’s on the schedule. Oh — and I should call the cardiologist’s office. The phone’s need for constant reassurance is going to drive me bugs long before we hit Day 30.

Last night, I just went straight to bed after the evening meal. I took a Yeti cup of chamomile tea with me, and my tablet. I was immediately joined by Firefly and Rook, who stayed with me until I turned out the light about an hour later, so that was pleasant.

It occurs to me that last year, I was able to accomplish miracles on four hours’ sleep because I was driven by the energy that’s released when the world blows up. That energy has long since dissipated. Now, I’m tired all the time, and frequently confused in my purpose. And there’s twice as much to do — or at least, the same amount to do, but with half the staff. The cats are of course a comfort, but their advice in almost every stressful situation is to take a nap. They’re not necessarily wrong, but, then, they don’t have to pay bills, or even buy cat food.

Tali is now on my lap, purring, and bumping the keyboard away with her head. I have just repeated the “This is a keyboard; it’s how we make cat food” lecture for the umpth time. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t believe me.

And off she goes! I’ve put the kettle on to boil for my second cup of tea.

What’s for lunch at your place?

In which sleeping well is its own reward

What went before: So, I pulled the trigger on my Garmin watch this afternoon after I came home. After warning me that it could be Several Days before my package would be mailed, I have a shipping notice and the news that I should see my Item by March 17, so Happy Five Years Cancer Free to me.

I sat with the manuscript a bit, but got no new-word-writing done to speak of. Tomorrow, I have “nothing” on the schedule, so I will try to buckle down and actually get some work done.

I have one more thing to get out into the email lanes, then I’m done for the day.

Trooper, alas, has caught on to Spring Forward. He is even now positing that it is Coon Cat Happy Hour, which — it will be Old Time Coon Cat Happy Hour in just 1/2 hour.

That didn’t last long.

Chorus:  Now’s the time to preorder your signed copy of Diviner’s Bow from The Uncle.  Here’s how.

Wednesday. Sunny and cool. The ‘beans are calling for Cooler Than Yesterday.

Breakfast was homemade wheat toast with cream cheese and grapes. My first cup of tea is with me here at the desk.

The loaf of bread is almost gone, so one decision on the day is whether I’m making a new loaf today or defrosting the Extra. Lunch with be chicken patty on a roll with a slice of cheddar — a chickenburger! — and whatever veggies seem good at the time.

I didn’t go to bed last night as early as I had planned (mostly because Tali had actually come to my lap and gone to sleep while I was reading, and I didn’t want to leap right up and disrupt a Milestone), but I did sleep past 7 this morning, so, go me (and Firefly and Rookie who both slept with me), for 8 hours plus of sleep, and I feel much more The Thing today, with a noticeable lack of I ache all over, which is a relief all by itself.

So, the heart monitor is annoying, though not for the reasons you might think. It’s tiny and weighs pretty close to nothing. The phone part of the package runs Hot Pepper (Android 12), which isn’t that many generations back. I think the Pixel 9 in my other pocket runs Vanilla Ice Cream (Android 15).

However, the phone is desperate for attention, and it every so often gets up on its hind legs and triggers the alarm for Poor Skin Contact! Which is my cue to reboot, which mysteriously solves the problem for another three hours or so. Aside that, I do have to be careful about cats who want to sleep on my chest, and also Rookie, who thinks that Thing Two (the spare unit that’s kept on the charging cord on the night table) is some kind of weird cosmic spider that needs Serious Killing.

I have some letters to answer today, including a request for a “good” picture of Steve to be included on the page dedicated to the Steve Miller Memorial Poetry Contest. I have … a few … pictures of Steve, but none from his Performing Poet Period, that having predated my intrusion into his life. We may have to go with a paper plane, if I can find that one.

Other than that, I’m really wanting to do some work today, so maybe I’ll take the spare loaf out of the freezer, after all, in the spirit of limiting distractions.

What are you doing today that’s fun and/or interesting?

Ah.  Paper plane:

There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole

What went before: 1,266 new words — not too bad for a woman who thought she was going to sit down in the comfy office chair, open the laptop and — fall asleep.

I b’lieve I will be ordering in a Garmin tracker. The insurance may pay for it, and even if not, the stress of the sporadically working FitBit is — stressful. And it’s something I can do something about.

The insurance bill for the car and the house has landed, so I’ll be writing that check before I use the money for something foolish, like buying a dozen eggs. Couple other pieces of snail that I need to deal with came in, too, though nothing particularly urgent.

Tomorrow, I need to go visit the cardiologist so they can glue one of those heart monitors to my chest for 30 day. Yes, yes; I did do this before. The doctors are bored. Or fishing. It would be nice if they got bored of fishing.

I note that I am Out of Cookies. That was careless of me. OTOH, maybe I’ll make scones tomorrow morning, so I’ll have something nice to eat with my tea when I come home from the cardiologist.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Until. . .

Tuesday. Glowering and cold at the moment. Beans are calling for a high of 51F/11C. We’ll see.

In the meanwhile, breakfast was homemade wheat bread toast, cream cheese, grapes. As I remarked to Rook, who was sitting on my lap at the time, “These grapes ain’t nothin to write home about, so it’s a good thing we’re already here.’

I’ll take the trash and recycling to the curb as soon as I finish my first cup of tea and find my shoes.

Oven heating for scones.

My arm that received the booster shot hurts. I realize belatedly that it is my left arm. I’m usually more careful than that, but — can’t really get a re-do. And thinking about it — I kind of ache all over, which I ascribe in equal portion to the COVID shot and fifteen trips up and down the cellar stairs in service of getting things to where they needed to be.

After I put the trash out, get the scones in the oven, and do my duty to the cats, I’ll look over what I wrote yesterday, and add in all the names that I had forgotten since the last time I used them.

The cats felt that 5 hours and 10 minutes of not-particularly-restful sleep was enough for me. On the one hand, I would have liked more sleep. On the other, I was having some very anxious dreams, which makes me feel like that guy who complained the food wasn’t very good and the servings were too small.

All that said, I’m angling to go to bed early tonight, given that the Things I have to accomplish are inconveniently timed for fitting in a nap.

It’s good to have A Plan.

How much sleep did you get last night?

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Right before he started chewing on my head — that’s head, not hair — Trooper gave me to understand that There Was No Food In the Bowls. As we see here, Trooper was exaggerating slightly:

Oh, today’s blog post title brought to you by Odetta and Harry Belafonte, “There’s a Hole in the Bucket.”