chop wood carry water – Sharon Lee, Writer

The Conspiracy of Things

What went before: Yeah, that bread isn’t gonna rise, but I’m giving it a chance. I Did Something. Or Failed to Do Something. We’ll see, but I Will Be Surprised.

In my own defense: I was sidetracked because a bag fastener exploded into my face when I was unsealing the plastic bag around the flour bag.

That was bad enough, but it deconstructed as it rebounded. I found the two big plastic pieces, but? I didn’t find the spring. As those of you who have read the syllabus will be aware — I have cats.

So, I went into overdrive, looking for the damned spring, got out the mop, the vacuum cleaner, and finally found it — far, far outside the kitchen (good spring), and then I got back to the dough, which was cold, and ‘way too sticky.

And, I expect I’m going to have a bruise on my cheek where the plastic casing hit, so that’ll be worth a Look with the Do You Feel Safe At Home question at the doctor’s office next week (answer — no. My Things are trying to murder me.)

Bread dough has been dismissed.

Now deciding if I’m going to push my luck and make a plain vanilla, so to speak whole wheat, or break out the Emergency Loaf from the freezer.

In other news, I’ve made an appointment to get a COVID booster on Monday, which is sooner than I had wanted, but an allowed move, since my last booster was in September, and I’m over four months. I’m hearing that COVID boosters may no longer be A Thing, and I am going to Baltimore in May…

SPOILER: I made a quick loaf of “plain vanilla” whole wheat. It turned out great. Photographic proof:

Saturday. Sunny and chilly.

Woke up at 6, went back to sleep until 7:30, laid there for another half hour trying to think of a reason to get up. I did not actually think of a reason to get up, unless, “Oh, for Goddess’ sake, don’t be a crybaby,” is a reason to get up.

Breakfast was toast (the “plain vanilla” whole wheat makes great toast — just a note for those playing along at home), cottage cheese, the last of the grapes. Finishing up the first mug of tea. Lunch will be, it says, here, That Yam you meant to eat last week.

I have a few chores to do, and I may pull out the scrapbooks that I’d been putting together last year about this time, and see if I can recover any idea of what I thought I was doing.

A quiet day, in other words, with nothing much on the schedule. Except putting the kettle on for another cup of tea.

Who has a schedule today?

Saturday morning cat census:

The Belated Report

All righty, then! Chores have been retired, po box run has been accomplished, hairs have been cut, cottage cheese taken on at the grocery.

There was a sympathy card at the post office box, and a bag of hot chocolate mix. I don’t know what lunch will be — probably hot chocolate isn’t lunch by itself. I may call something in, as a better alternative to having Firefly cook.

My plan is to bear down and work this afternoon and tomorrow, since I am temporarily ahead of the chores. Well, not all the chores; I owe those two folks headshots and “a brief bio,” and should probably do that first. I think I have a brief bio and the headshot problem has been solved — thanks to all who stepped forward to share their expertise! — and that’s probably a better use of my time than angsting over what I’ll make to eat.

So. First world problems. Not going to be able to say that much longer.

The stylist is a music enthusiast — big Elvis fan, follows a particular impersonator; has plans to go with a girlfriend to the Grand Ole Opry; not only knows what The Band was, but can reel off the names of the anchors. She already has tickets to see Willie, Dylan, and Sheryl Crow at Bangor this summer. I didn’t know Willie was coming to Bangor this summer.

Today, she said that she’s starting to feel old, and I got a little bit of a shiver right then. Steve had told me he was starting to “feel old” — and he wasn’t wrong: once you start mooching into your 70s, you’re legitimately old. But to feel old — I don’t. I feel tired and sad and lost, but I don’t feel old — which is just another item in an ever-growing list of things that I don’t know how I feel about.

And on that note — off to order in lunch, and find me that “short bio.”

Memories kicked up a picture from eight years ago.

Also, proof of hairs being cut:

Big Time

What Went Before: The snow has stopped, and the town plows are out in force.

1000 new words written today. I really need to get my head back into what’s happening on the station, after spending two consecutive books on Colemeno. I was also very gratified to find a place to step back to, where I could begin from a different angle, and that we had been smart enough to leave a gap I can use for some Fun Stuff that we didn’t get to include in Salvage Right because then it would have been 500,000 words long and Toni would have murdered us.

I’m not going to give a running total for the current WIP, because I still have to revise, disassemble, reassemble, contract, and extend what I had already written.

I have an Itinerary for my May wanderings. Steve always used to do the trip planning, because he was good at it, and I — am not. However, it occurred to me that I could use the trips to New Jersey and to Westminster last — no. In 2023. — as models to get me to Baltimore without killing myself. So! Waterville to Cooperstown. Cooperstown to Baltimore. Baltimore to Corning. Corning to Rutland. Rutland to Waterville. Easy-peasy and all (except for the trip to Corning) well-known routes. Thank you, Steve.

I did make my reservation at Corning. Tomorrow, I’ll try to get Cooperstown and Rutland taken care of, and then I’ll realio trulio be committed to this thing.

And, yes, I do know that New York State is the carousel capital of Planet Earth. It’s tempting to just take, yanno, four months off, have nothing but fun, See All the People and Do All the Things, but I really do have to get some writing done this year, too.

And that’s all I’ve got. In retrospect, a busy day — and that multigrain loaf from the (King Arthur) kit is delicious. I may get another one or two of those, to have in reserve, because I do not normally stock All the Grains, not to mention the seeds and other yummy, crunchy stuff.

All that said — onward!

Friday. Intermittent sunshine. Not so warm today, and snow predicted on the overnight.

I have come to the conclusion that the snow is targeting me. Yesterday, it snowed out my first ASL class; tomorrow, I have an appointment to get my hair cut. Pfui on you, snow. I pick my teeth at you.

What else? Oh, breakfast!

Breakfast was a tomato and cheese sandwich on two slices of the multigrain loaf I made yesterday. Lunch will be the last of the store-bought quiche, which was … OK. But my quiche is better.

Today, I have Chores. The first load of laundry is washing. I need to set the vacuum working, make some phone calls, finish with the reservations for the Big Trip, do the banking, catch up with a couple pieces of correspondence, perform my duty to the cats, and maybe take a walk. Eeek. Feast or famine. Fire or drought. If I don’t fall asleep, Actual, yanno, Work is scheduled for after lunch.

I have been remiss in telling you all about this wonderful new timer I have put into use. As is the case with so many very simple things, I have a really hard time using kitchen timers. Lately, I’ve had Google to yell at to set a timer, but Google sometimes loses the plot, and sometimes I forget to yell. Mostly, I’ve been setting the timer on the Big Microwave, which is old enough to drink, vote, and run for president, and I’ll be blunt — I live in fear of the day that microwave dies, because I Have No Idea how the one that came with the house works.

Anyway (yes, I’m still talking about timers, but I got bored with the above paragraph and decided it would look nicer if I introduced some white space), the Big Microwave has a chicklet keypad, and I’ve become worried that I may wear the keys out and poof! there goes my access to the second most-used item in my kitchen. So, I bought a timer, and I want to tell you, it’s so simple even I can use it, and the bell is loud, so if I — not that this ever happens — forget that I set a timer for my tea and go to the back of the house to do something, I can hear the bell go off (just like the microwave timer), and go rescue said tea before it climbs out of the cup and begins a pilgrimage to the Old Country.

Here’s the timer.

What else? OH! BaltiCon. Yes, you — yeah, even YOU — can come to BaltiCon; it’s not a closed club or anything. Guests of honor this year are Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Sebastien de Castell, Stephanie Law, Marc Abrahams, Joanna Fang, Blake Collins, and (my favorite, though I shouldn’t say so) the Baltimore Gamer Symphony Orchestra. Plus, yanno, the Heinlein Award winner, and a cool three million writers, artists, costumers, and filkers. Really, you should come if you can; it’ll be a great time. That’s BaltiCon 59.

I should mention that BaltiCon is a Very Important Con in my personal life. I met Steve Miller for the first time at BaltiCon 10, in 1976. While we were still living in Maryland, BaltiCon was our “home con.” We were Writer Guests of Honor at BaltiCon 37 in 2003, and attended the big BaltiCon 50 Guest of Honor Get-Together in 2016.

And I really do think that’s all.

How’s Friday treating you?

Today’s blog title isn’t brought to you by Peter Gabriel, but it’s a good song, anyway. “Big Time”

Friday morning cat census:

I have only come here seeking knowledge

What Went Before: Well! That was a productive running of errands. The only thing I didn’t get done was getting the car washed, because the entire city had that same idea.

I have One! Gotten my ears (re)pierced, a chain shortened and fitted out with magnets.

Two! Stopped at Holy Cannoli. Because I am Weak. Bought a pumpkin chocolate chip cookie bigger than my head (so I can have a cookie to eat while I’m baking cookies), and also a ginormous chunk of spinach lasagna, which is at least two meals and maybe three.

Three! Bought too much stuff at the grocery store, including Maine Root root beer, because if you’re going to buy things you don’t really need, buy the Good Stuff. I noted with dismay the lack of eggs and the thinness of milk. Saw two people I haven’t seen for more than a year. One was Steve’s former boss at the library, who introduced me to her grandkids, one of whom is taller than I am. The other was the guy who had owned our neighborhood liquor store when we lived in Waterville, and I did tear up talking to him — sorry, Joe, but no, I’m not really getting “accustomed.”

Four! Checked the post office box. No mail.

Five! Got home in time to greet the FedEx truck, which offloaded two packages, neither one of them my keyboard.

The oven is now heating so that it will be worthy to receive lasagna. I’ve already scheduled a haircut, and Trooper’s annual wellness check with the vet.

Tali is not sure I live here, even after the other three cats came to give me welcome-home bumps.

Sometime later: 500ish words written on my lovely repaired keyboard, which brings the total WIP in its various pieces to +/-10,600 words.

Trooper is insisting that Happy Hour is late, but he is not yet correct.

I made a batch of cookies, so the Rolanni Red Alert is no longer in force.

Tali is willing to have me live here if I’ll feed her. Of course, she says that now.

Oh! There were three cats in the picture; Trooper was in the copilot’s seat in my office.

Tuesday. Grey but warm. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Woke up at 6, attended to necessary business and went back to bed for another hour and a half. Apparently, I had too much excitement yesterday. I’m still a little fuzzy, so I’m thinking today is going to be the comfy chair in my office, a pad of paper and a pen. Jen Sin still hasn’t opened his mail. That! Man!

Breakfast was large and late: last of the leftover potatoes fried with onion and leftover sausage. Lunch will be (no really) the slice of store-bought quiche that was deferred yesterday in favor of lasagna. We Have A Theme.

Finished reading The Sign of the Dragon by Mary Soon Lee last night. I see that Destiny’s Way from Jack Campbell downloaded this morning, which — you can’t get any more perfect timing than that.

Tali is starting to demand my lap, and is willing to fight Rook for the right. This is a little problematic, being as the household is down a lap, and everyone has lap rights. She is willing to share, which is interesting, and may be workable, if Rook can be made to see the advantages.

Today’s to-do, as above — mostly a writing day, with sides of one’s duty to the cats and remembering to eat lunch.

What’s on your to-do list?

Today’s title brought to you by The Police, “Wrapped Around Your Finger”

Below two pictures: Rook’s selfie, and a picture taken to demonstrate to Alma Alexander that, yes, the cats do use the ring-bed on the floor. When they want to.

. . . and wine for the woman who made the rain come

What Went Before: 901 new words today, and some rewriting of old words. Active voice, Sharon. Really; it make All the Difference. The total WIP now weighs in at +/-9,300 words, which is … OK.

Saturday. Sunny and already busy.

I Shout! Out! to the kind person who sent me a Penzey’s gift card. I had just been missing a couple things, and debating whether Penzey’s was a necessity or a luxury. Thank you, Mystery Gift Giver. Much appreciated.

I did sleep in a little — let’s hear it for 7:30! — and had a leisurely breakfast of blueberry muffin and brie. Second cup of tea is to hand, and I’m pretty sure there will be a third cup in my future. Lunch will be salad, because the tomato got ahead of me again.

I have a few chores to do, and some paperwork to straighten up. Honestly, where does All! The! Paper! come from? Mostly, though, I’ll be writing.

The sunroom office is full of — sun! And cats are napping everywhere.

I finished reading A Gentleman of Unreliable Honor, and am now giving all of my attention to The Sign of the Dragon.

What’re you reading today?

Today’s title brought to you by Cat Stevens, “Tea for the Tillerman,” because, yeah, I loved that album, back in the day. Sold it when we sold all our vinyl to make the rent or some such silliness. Still. Great album.

Foraging Run

Friday. Cold and … dull, really. It looks like a Very Grumpy day out there, despite the new snow. ‘beans are calling for another snow event overnight Saturday into early Sunday.

Breakfast was salad with a side of bread, so I could do honor to the tomato, finish up the lettuce, and also the cottage cheese. It may be a fact that this house runs on cottage cheese. Currently thinking about going to the store for milk (hot chocolate!), and cottage cheese. Will defer action, if any, until I’ve finished my second cup of tea.

Lunch may be a yam. I think I have a yam. If I go to the grocery, I can be sure I have a yam.

pause for supply check — I have TWO yams. Riches unsung.

I finished reading Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent, which was interesting not only for forcing me think about Shakespeare, which I haven’t done in decades, but for insight into how actors do their particular art. Over on the Other Side, I’m reading Market Forces, Midlife Recorder 7.

Regarding the Important Things In Life, Cats: I saw Rook and Tali touch noses this morning, and neither one hissed. It looked to me as though Rook had initiated the greeting. Later, of course, he ambushed and tried to murder her. Right now, after having disputed her right to the comfy chair in my office, I note that Tali is in the comfy chair, napping, and Rook is on the floor directly before the chair, showing his belly.

A little while ago, Firefly wandered by, looked into the chair, saw Tali, sort of nodded to herself and moved off to get a mouthful of crunchies. No hissing.

I believe we’re making progress.

I do want to devote most of this day to writing, which means if I’m going to the grocery, I’d better go soon. I’m really missing Steve on this getting up to speed part. I had a Realization last evening that Changes Everything (yes, yes, I’ve only written one letter; it’s a Writer Thing). I went back to Steve’s office to run it past him, and — sat in his chair at the desk for awhile.

Sun’s out now. Guess I’ll finish my tea and go out to the store. Then that will be Done, and the weekend before me.

What’s the weather where you are?

Cat census. Rook has since shifted his position to achieve MSE (Maximum Sun Exposure)

The Writer at Work

What went before: Finished reading “Shout of Honor,” and put it to marinate.

A Question Asked; A Question Answered: The “boys in the basement” (sometimes known as “the back room”) are the committee of rowdies that passes for my muse. They drink a lot of beer, eat a lot of pretzels, watch re-runs of Time Tunnel and I Dream of Jeannie on Youtube, and occasionally kick an idea upstairs where I can find it. Astonishingly often, they’re good ideas. I do occasionally have to cut off their beer to get them to focus, but compared to what some of my colleagues have to do to get their muses to focus, that’s minor.

Another Question Asked, and Answered: Phil Jurus was a silversmith down in Maryland. Steve and I bought our wedding rings from Phil, and probably more silver than we could afford at the time. He created the Runes of Roke Knoll. Our wedding rings are engraved with Mette, the Rune for Courage (Sharon) and Illum, the Rune for Wisdom (Steve).

Onward!

Wednesday. Snowing and cold.

Breakfast was blueberry muffin and cottage cheese. Still drinking my first mug of tea. Lunch will be, um. Oh! Potstickers and fried rice. Sounds good, and I can do that out of stores.

Well, I miscalculated. I thought there’d be a dusting of snow on the overnight and I’d just hang in ’til 10 or so and then go to the grocery store. I am not going to the grocery store today. Looking at the list, there’s nothing I can’t get by without for another day, so tomorrow’s adventures will include the grocery store.

I’m still monkeying around with the Pair accounts Steve left. Having finally gotten inside Pair — there’s not even a directory for stevemillerwrites, so that makes that decision easy. However! There are two other domains that I do need to keep: liadenuniverseCOM/NET, even though they’re not manifesting on the internet. So, some of today will be once again making the part of my brain that used to know this stuff, err, work. Ow.

I also need to do some laundry, mostly because I ran through all of my Extra Special Warm Socks, and man, I’m gonna be wanting those.

(I made the mistake of reading a News Summary. Oh. My. Ghod.)

Back to focusing on the stuff I can do something about. I believe I have a starting point and a conceit for the next book. It is not at all what I thought I’d be doing, but ain’t that always the way.

I may take a little chunk of time to go through my jewelry box and look for pieces that may go into a memory necklace, as a reward for bending my brain into pretzels.

In reading matters, I last night finished Seeing Red in Gretna Green and have moved on to Code Yellow in Gretna Green. I’ve been reading Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent over lunch, and it’s been an agreeable companion. Also, yesterday, I got sidetracked into re-reading “Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones,” by Samuel R. Delaney. It’s been a decade or so.

So, it’s still snowing. And I need another mug of tea.

What are you focusing on, today?

How it started, and how it’s going. Two pictures of Rook, aka Rookie, Lord High Rookifur, Fool of a Rook, Bananabread… The one on the left is from July 2024; the one on the right was taken this morning.

Time seen as a necklace of precious stones

What went before: Yesterday, I read all the Commander Vepal sections of The Gathering Edge (how is it possible that The Gathering Edge was published in 2017?) — this because of a Notion sent up from the guys in the basement. I also did a lot of Real Life This and That, because Real Life does have to be tended to, sometimes.

Shameless Self-Promotion: The audio edition of Sea Wrack and Changewind, by Sharon Lee, being all of the Archers Beach stories in one volume, is now on sale at Tantor Media. Narrated by Alex Picard. Here’s your link.

Tuesday. Cloudy; it was snowing a little when I took the trash and recycling to the curb. Seems to not be snowing at the moment.

Breakfast was blueberry skyr and tea. Lunch will be beanloaf in mushroom sauce, and a fancy frozen veggie to be named later.

Today’s to-do is reading “Shout of Honor,” performing one’s duty to the cats, and taking a smol walk. Depending on how lively the guys in the basement are feeling, I may spend some time staring at nothing. (Note to Self: restart beer deliveries to the guys in the basement.)

Sartorially speaking, I’m wearing the usual Wrangler carpenter jeans with the pointy-thing pocket repurposed to hold my phone; Steve’s flannel-lined denim shirt (which is magical, I’m sad because (1) mine all wore out long ago, and (2) this style has gone the way of the so-called “shirt jac,” which is still warm, but not as nice), and one of Steve’s necklaces (another Phil Jurus rune: Edram, the rune of the artist).

I was thinking yesterday (when my necklace was the astronomically correct silver moon that Steve gave me for my 60th birthday), that I have a lot of necklaces in my care — some of course more Important than others — and I got to wondering if I could have them made into a memory necklace — like a charm bracelet, but a necklace.

I also have a lot of earrings, because my ears used to be pierced. And I’m wondering if it’s worth my time to have my ears pierced again, or what on earth I’m going to do with All Those Earrings, some of which, again, are more precious than others.

Moving on to the Big Cat Hunt — we await word from the escort service as to date and time. Join me in Watching the Skies.

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

What’s your news?

Today’s blog title is brought to you by Samuel R. Delaney, “Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones”

Scenes from a late-waking morning:

Cat Dancing

What went before: Though the poolish survived, the bread . . . was not perfect. The dough stayed sticky, rather than firming up, and trying to slash it before putting it in the oven was an exercise in comedy. The loaves came out of the oven looking like two very large potatoes. The bread does taste good, though the crust is too chewy, and I say this as someone who likes bread that fights back. So! A learning experience. I’ll be trying again.

Onward!

Monday. Cloudy and 20F/-6C, heading for the tropical high temp of 36F/2C. <fe>I may have to open the windows.</fe>

Ate the second banana — which was soft and sweet. First cup of tea brewing. Need to seek out the rest of breakfast, which was! A blueberry muffin and cottage cheese. I have no idea what’s for lunch.

Today is straightening up the house, which I never got round to the other day, getting some vacuuming done, taking care of computer domains — which I also let slide — and sitting in a chair with a pad of paper and a pen, staring at nothing.

Full day, right there.

How’s Monday treating everybody so far?

Below, an action shot from last night’s Cat Dancer tournament.

Zooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Monday, sunny and cool.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with sausage and onion, and the last of the silly little corn cakes. Lunch … may be take out.

I have errands, including the long-put-off getting of gas, and foraging. This afternoon, I have an appointment to choose a frame for the Diviner’s Bow art.

And that’s really all I’ve got. I’ll see you on the flipside. Do feel free to talk among yourselves.