Tag: cat census

Tuesday not dictated

Tuesday. Sunny and cool.

Woke up without pain! Two hours later, I do have a tiny ache, which is entirely livable, and I’m shaking bad, but shaking doesn’t hurt. Onward.

Scrambled an egg with onion, garlic, and sweet pepper, and toasted the last bits of homemade bread to top with sour cherry jam for breakfast. Which is the first thing I’ve been able to make and eat in, um, four days. Yes, I do know how to lose five pounds in four days. Not recommended.

Someone had asked if there wasn’t anyone who could help with the food, and, err no. The issue this weekend wasn’t my usual antipathy to actually making food (I could have ordered in, if that had been the case), but that the pain was so bad, I couldn’t eat. I won’t bore you with how difficult it is to convince yourself to eat two spoonfuls of cottage cheese so you can take the Tylenol, but trust me — No Fun.

I’m still doing Tylenol, and may hit the ache with some CBD lotion on my way back to Steve’s office after I finish this note, which is not dictated, but I’m feeling so much better — I can’t tell you.

Embroidery is still off the table for tonight. Ellen has courageously agreed to drive me to the cancer center (and back!) at stupid o’clock tomorrow, which is one less thing to worry about, and a load off my … back. Am I going to stained glass on Thursday? Let’s get through today and tomorrow first.

I did snatch a moment out of a relatively pain-free half-hour yesterday to painter-tape cardboard to the inside of the Problematic Table. Do I think Rookie will try to go through the no-longer-big-enough space between the table bars, and get stuck again? How do I know? He’s a cat. The best I, a mere human, can do is Plan for the Worst.

I think that’s all the news. I have three more Bits to do for the Sekrit Project, and my inbox and physical desktop are a mess.

The Plan is to make myself another cup of tea, go back to Steve’s office, do the Bits, reassess, and see if settling in with a heating pad and a book is my next best move, or I’m up for More Adventure.

What’re your plans for the day?

In case you missed it, the cats declared Selfie Tuesday

In which the lost are found

Yesterday, I baked bread, did embroidery, carried books down to the basement and got them safely stowed, finished Phase One of the Sekrit Project, which leaves two Phases left to complete by November 14, which is totally doable.

I also found Steve’s cardinal, which was hiding behind books on the bottom-most shelf of the bookcase from which it fled.

And a bonus find…

About a million years ago, I bought Steve a sundial for his birthday. Approximately two hundred years ago, the gnomon went missing. The sundial then became a piece of glass art that sat on a bookshelt in Steve’s office.

Today, as I was looking for the cardinal, I found the gnomon for the sundial. It had been stuck to a book.

So the sundial is back together, which is pleasing, even though it I probably have no place to set it up, since — windows, cats.

Still, I’m pleased that it’s at least potentially functional again.

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Where are we? Thursday?

Thursday. Sunny, white-and-gray clouds traveling across a blue sky.

Breakfast was two slices of yesterday’s bread, toasted, cottage cheese, and grapes. Yesterday, I ate three slices of bread with butter as soon as the loaf was cool enough to slice, two slices this morning, and I foresee another slice or two with lunch. I am not usually like this, but I’m gonna finish this loaf by Saturday. Guess I needed Vitamin Bread.

Wrote 1,459 new words this morning. Did the addition, to get some idea of where I am contract-wise, and found the total WIP at 102,870, which In Theory means I can type THE END.

Yeah, yeah. We laugh at Theory.

I did sleep in, and my desk one! more! time! looks like a bomb hit it. How does this keep happening? Gremlins, I guess.

Tonight is glassworking, which means a late lunch, because class goes so late. Happily, I can sleep in tomorrow.

That? Is all the news from this side of the world.

How’s everything going for you?

Oh.  I got the sundial set:

Thursday afternoon cat census:

Selling the chiefhold

What went before: So, proofed about 100 pages today, since I finished writing early, and the WIP had nothing more to say to me. That puts me well ahead of schedule, but honestly, I would be happy to get it done early so I can pick up another one of the writing-adjacent projects waiting in the wings.

I’ve been having a little problem with the shirt I’m embroidering. There’s the unexpected resistance offered by having to stitch through the paper grid and the shirt, even though I deliberately chose a light shirt. Also, the instructions are adamant, that I use a small hoop, and that . . . just isn’t working for me. The pattern is peeling up from the fabric and — just not working. One of my friends at needlework last night asked if I didn’t need a bigger hoop and I explained that a small hoop was called for, but the more I thought about it today, the more I really wanted a bigger hoop. So, I’ve made that adjustment. What I really want is an oval hoop, but I don’t have one in-hand, though I do have one on order, now.

Tomorrow evening is my first stained glass class, so that will be exciting. The plan is to write! first!, then see what I can do in the time left before class.

The cats have had Happy Hour, and it’s time for me to read the October 1 chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October, and then find a glass of wine and something to eat.

Everybody stay safe. Have a good evening.

I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Good morning:

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Writing session:  supervisors on the job:

 

 

 

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Well, let’s see.

Thursday. Sunny and seasonally warm.

The blanket I used to cover the rosebush last night was a little icy when I took it off at 8 o’clock. I’m not seeing a call for frost tonight, so that’s good. I have to look up this sort of rose and find what they want for winter.

In the meantime, this morning’s go at the keyboard netted+/-1,340 new words, bringing the WIP to +/- 88,800, which is kind of a pretty number, actually.

I have done my duty to the cats, and taken a walk. I’m planning on a late lunch because my evening class goes late. Ish.

Sarah confirms that she will be here bright and early tomorrow to clean — it’s been a while, what with having to cancel last time so I could see my doctor in Bath. The house is looking a little wild because my first priority has been to keep up with the writing and writing-adjacent stuff. Housekeeping is ‘way down on the list of Other Stuff I feel compelled to accomplish.

I read the October 1 chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October last night, in which we get Insight into Snuff’s duties. I’m reading aloud, because it feels Wrong not to, though that will perhaps change. The cats are … not unamused. Firefly at least remembers this thing.

And I think that’s it, aside a snippet. We haven’t had a snippet in a while.

How’s everybody doing?
* * *
SNIPPET:
Val Con looked to Shan. “I haven’t seen this room open since Uncle Er Thom brought that person from the Aeschalees on-board.”

“Good gods.” Shan stared at him. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

“You’d been sent down to secure the trade,” Val Con said. “But I was cabin boy and called upon to serve.”

“Thus all I have is hearsay. And the rug, of course. Though it did clean up nicely.”

“And the trade was preserved,” Val Con continued, “and Uncle Er Thom was pronounced a chief of the Aeschaleen.”

“That I do remember,” Shan said. “Mother would occasionally ask how his second and third wives went on. Which was really too bad of her.”

“More cousins?” Miri asked.

“Sadly not,” Val Con answered. “He saw the wives each well-set-up in their own establishments with the proceeds from the sale of his chiefhold.”

Shan laughed. “Father had his moments, admit it.”

Spread it around

Friday. Cloudy and cool for now, but going for the mid-70sF, with sun. Last night the skies opened several times, which the cats did not favor. They all came and sat on top of me and demanded that I make it stop.

Eventually, it did stop, but I did I get credit for deploying my Meteorological Super Powers? I did not.

Breakfast was PB&J on whole wheat English Muffin. Lunch will be something hopefully edible made with the leftover ground turkey.

NOTE TO SELF: Never buy ground turkey again. No, never. It’s just ghastly.

Today is a House Day. First up, Grocery. Second, the above Turkey Challenge. Third, vacuums deployed. Fourth, maybe today I can hang the tube of lights in Steve’s office, seeing as how Winter is Coming. Maybe I’ll throw in a load of laundry, because I can.

I may do some more business catch up, but writing will resume tomorrow.

I want to take a moment to celebrate the “spreader” I purchased at Now You’re Cooking in Bath last Friday. I bought it because it was blue and wooden and pretty and fit nicely in my hand, and not because I thought it would be in any way useful.

Backstory: Once upon a time, I used to be able to butter bread, but somewhere down the years I lost that complex ability. I mean, yes, I can get a splotz of butter on a piece of bread and more or less move it around, but any attempt to coat the bread evenly is doomed to failure, or a holed slice, and frustration, either way. This is *especially* poignant when one is trying to make a restorative grilled cheese sandwich (I mean, yes, I could use mayo, and have, but it’s Not The Same, and last night I really felt I needed The Real Thing).

So, last night, in pursuit of that grilled cheese sandwich, and coming once again face flat against my shortcoming, I said aloud, as I not infrequently do, “Why won’t you just spread?” And then? It came to me in a flash. I had just purchased a “spreader.” I fetched it out of the drawer, took a deep breath, and applied it to the butter on the bread.

It. Was. A. Miracle.

The butter went over the bread in a smooth, even coating; the slices remained intact, and — I cannot praise this implement highly enough, and I will be using it for all of my butter-spreading, henceforth.

Also? The grilled cheese sandwich really did the job. Aside the Cat March Against Downpours, the evening was pleasant and calm.

And that’s what passes for adventure around here. What adventures are you having?

Picture of the magic spreader, table knife for comparison:

Also!  Friday morning cat census:

 

I’ll find out, when I get there

Friday early in the morning: Ducking in real quick to answer the morning’s most frequent questions.

The name of the character is Zigfrid, and she has a problem. What a surprise.

The caricatures of Steve and me hanging on the wall in one of the photos I posted yesterday are by Howard Taylor, creator of Schlock Mercenary. They were done at Denvention, the 66th World Science Fiction Convention, in Denver.

In that same photo, Rookie is not scared or angry. His tail is always like that.

And! Not a question, but an observation. I’ve been listening to Black Cats (soft) Jazz on Youtube, and like it very much. The cats don’t seem to like jazz, but I’m hoping it’ll grow on them, acknowledging that jazz is, like a Certain Professor, an Acquired Taste. Steve, for instance, loved him some blues, gypsy jazz, and fusion, most of which does not work for me.

All that said — onward! I’ll check back in, post-flu-shot.

Friday, post-flu-shot: Well. That was . . . an adventure.

An adventure, yes.

So, while I was getting my flu shot, I asked the nice young pharmacist when I could get reboosted on the COVID vaccine, the last booster I had being March. He kind of looked at the ceiling and said, kind of apologetic, “Well, see, the CDC isn’t making recommendations any more.” “Yes,” I said, “but aside that.” Weeeelllll, aside that, they don’t have, that is, they just can’t give, or well, actually — I need a prescription from my doctor stating that it is “medically necessary. “Otherwise,” said the pharmacist, “I’d give you one today. It’s been six months. I’m sorry; it’s really inconvenient.”

Well, no. I mean, yes, it is inconvenient, but they’re going to kill people. Already have killed people. And are So. Very. Proud. of Themselves.

I HATE this timeline.

I did some grocery shopping after getting my shot, and STILL there was no candied ginger on the shelf, so after I finished my business with Uncle Hannaford, I went down to Uncle Dean’s, and had my choice of several bags on the shelf. Which is why we need a natural market in town.

I’m home now, and everything put away. Next up is sitting down with some ice on my back and reading a chapter of my book, then! Lunch, and then?

To work.

Today’s blog post title from Tom Petty, “Learning to Fly.”

Cat pics and embroidery project The Next: