chop wood carry water – Page 13

Busy Tuesday

The Long Back Yard

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Well. I solved some, but not all of my problems. Charlie’s was able to take care of the tire pressure for me, so I don’t have to get any more scoldy emails from my car. Is anyone else’s car like this? It only writes when it wants something — air in the tires; washer fluid. It never writes to see if I want something, or just to say hey. Honestly, it’s like we don’t have a relationship at all.

Lowe’s was a labyrinth, Target was much better than the last time I was in, and I could actually shop.

I found The. Perfect. barstool for My Studio at Marden’s, but Marden’s, along with its other peculiarities, doesn’t deliver. Or doesn’t always deliver, and while the stool in question would fit in the back of the Subaru, my chances of getting it downstairs with both it and me in one piece were — let’s just say the smart money would back gravity. Heavily.

I found a less perfect, and only slightly more expensive barstool at Fortin’s, and they? Will send it across the river tomorrow with a nice young person who will take it down the stairs for me, so — win.

I did not arrive at a satisfactory solution for sunblocking the sliders, though I may have an It’ll Do.

I came nowhere near achieving a premade step so I can walk out of Steve’s office and onto the deck without breaking an ankle.

Two pleasant things happened. At Target, I was prompted to Use Google Wallet, and so I did — only it didn’t work. My cashier was in my corner though, and between us, with a bit of last minute advice from a pro on the other register, I got it to work, and he cheered.

Also, when I stopped to drop a package off at a friend’s house, a big black cat came down the middle of the road toward me, clearly on A Mission. I said, “Is that Spazzio?” and his tail went up just as far as it could. He escorted me to the porch, where I left the package. He lobbied hard for me to let him in, but — no key, kitty.

So, back home now, and? I should find something to eat, I guess.

How’s everybody doing today?
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Fortin’s wins today’s hero badge. They brought my bar stool to me an hour after I got home, carried it into the house, down the stairs and into the studio. We are now set up and ready to do some glasswork.

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Went to needlework, but — I grabbed the wrong bag off the hook, so I had the Invisible Project to work on. Still, it was nice to just sit and chat. Home now, and V. tired.

I expect I’m not long for a vertical position.

Tomorrow, I hope to write like the wind. I’ll check in as can.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

Old brains for new

The Long Back Yard. For those who don’t know why I do this: The daily picture of the Long Back Yard is what the Long Back Yard looks like when I wake up. Yesterday’s picture was not a photographic or an uploading error. Thank you.

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Something a little different — Steve Miller and Sharon Lee signing Plan B at Mr. Paperback in Skowhegan Maine in 1999.

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All righty, then! That was Monday.

1,830ish new words written; the WIP now stands at 127,250ish. I have eight scenes left to write, and I know what they are and I just want to keep on going, but — why do brains get tired? Definite design flaw. I want a refund. I had used to want a new brain, but I’ve finally figured out how to (mostly) work with this one.

Tomorrow? There will be no writing. I have A List.

pulls list out of sleeve
AHEM
1 Take trash and recycling to curb
2 7:45 go to PT
3 Go to grocery
3a Stop home and put groceries away
4 Go to Augusta
4a,b,c Run a stack of errands that have piled up since last week
5 Come home
5a Eat something
6 Go to needlework
7 Come home and faceplant

Wednesday through Sunday, however, I got nothing. Fingers crossed that I will be able to type a provisional –end– by Sunday night.

Re: being tired of a book in progress: Writing a book is an enormous undertaking; a stupidly complex project that takes way too long (NOTE: I do not speak here for the people who write 58 books a year and laugh while they do it. I am not them.). As with any other large, complex project, like, say, building a boat, there are times in the process when you just wanna throw your hammer out the window and walk away. Not because you think what you’re building is useless or dreadful (though there are those moments, too), but just because it’s taking So. Damned. Long.

Writers have a far different relationship with their books than readers do, starting with the disparity in the time it takes to write a book and the time it takes to read that same book.

And that’s Monday at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’d everybody’s day go?

In which the plan changes, and changes again

The Long Back Yard

The toilet is fixed. Steve Symonds deserves a twenty-five flower parade.

I would like the record to show that I? could never have fixed this myself. A hacksaw was involved.

‘nough said.
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Sunday. Cloudy and cooler than it’s been tending.

Got up early because that’s when I woke up. Oatmeal for breakfast. Chicken breast for lunch if it happens to have thawed. If not, something else.

Wrote, oh? 700 words this morning. Given the timing of breakfast, it’s probably not too early to start investigating the idea of lunch. I will do my duty the cats first, in the interests of going back to writing after lunch.

Yes, I am pushing, but I’m at the stage where “almost done!” is driving the writing engine, and, as I may have mentioned once or twice: I’m really tired of this book.

I put up the “Roman” curtain over the window in the front door, and while it’s better than what was there, I’m not convinced it’s actually what I want for the sliders in Steve’s office. If the tie-ups were longer so I could actually adjust the shade to the height of my choosing, which you would think would be the point of this design, I might be convinced. As it is — meh.

I watched two? three, maybe? episodes of Spy Family last night and it is not for me. May try another title this evening, if I don’t faceplant first.

I am aware that I am taking way long with the Agent of Change readalong — I plead illness. Also, yes, I, too, am reading Conflict of Honors. Things will happen as they happen at this point. Total chaos for the win.

How’s everybody doing today?
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Steve Miller, The Empire State Carousel, Fennimore Farm Museum, Cooperstown NY, June 21, 2023. Photo by Sharon Lee.

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Change of plan, because weather and also brain wants a rest.

So! Wrote just a smidge over 1,000 words today. WIP now at 125,440ish.

You know how you’re sick, after you’re well again, you have to do all the things you let slide? Yeah, that would be my realization today. If there’s eight feet of snow on the ground on Tuesday, I’ve got to get the trash to the curb, so I went out while it was still warm(ish) to load the toboggan with trash bags and fill up the recycling bin. So, that’s ready for Tuesday morning, no matter what.

Also, I missed changing out the cat boxes, ref “sick” above, so that will be my next trick, after which I get a shower, sweats, and ice cream in my blanket fort.

This means I can write tomorrow, and get the trash out before I have to be at PT on Tuesday morning (boy, am I gonna be in trouble with the therapist), with the least possible amount of exertion, and, hopefully, no crazypants.

I’ll just say my good-evenings now. Kind of a weird day, but, some days are weird.

Everybody stay safe.

Long day

What went before:

Saturday. Sunny and warm. Snow is melting apace.

Breakfast was, as planned, the leftovers from yesterday’s chef salad scrambled with two eggs, which made for a pretty big meal. Not sure what lunch is. Cheese and crackers? Could be cheese and crackers.

Got to work early despite having to stop and fix the toilet in Steve’s bathroom. I should say, mostly fix. It’s stopped the constant running, but the float seems to have sprung a leak, so there’s still a little water running out of it. I’ve been resisting calling a plumber, becau$e, but that may be a false economy.

Wrote about 700 words, and taking a break because that last scene reduced me to, um, tears.

It occurred to me that there ought to be heated mats to go under desks, and there are, byerlady! So — retail therapy FTW — a mat for Steve’s office, a mat for the studio — a mat for my office? Oh, why not?

After shopping, I’ll go back to write some more until lunch time, after which it’s track changes, which, with the application of a bit of elbow grease, I may finish today, and wouldn’t that be nice?

Also? Despite having been doing nothing for days, the desk in my office is once again overflowing with stuff. I hope the goblins haven’t found another way in.

I bought a very nice “beginner” demonstrator pen from JetPens — it arrived yesterday. My only beef is that it’s a cartridge pen, but there’s getting to be some days when I oughtn’t be left alone with a bottle of ink, so there is that.

I can’t really tell you much about this pen, since the packaging is completely in Japanese. I can say it’s a Pilot pen, and it’s name appears to be kaküno. Writes nice and smooth; very light in the hand. I haven’t dropped it yet, so can’t report on its durability. Cheap, too. Under $15US. I got the medium nib, because that’s the way I roll. If you’ve been thinking about trying a fountain pen, this might be worth your time to explore.

Thanks to everyone who suggested anime worthy of watching. I remember I was looking for Spy Family the day Steve died… This is not to lay blame or to invoke the Sad, but to say that I had apparently thought we’d enjoy it, and while I have Crunchyroll, I might as well have a look-in.

And, yes, I am talking about trivialities while the world is on fire. The only thing I can do at this point, is what I always do, and be a witness for civilized behavior.

deep breath

How’s everybody doing today?
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So, yeah — cheese and crackers and an orange. That’s lunch, innit? Am drinking “figgy pudding” tea from my Christmas teas. I had not been sanguine, going in, but it’s quite tasty and delivers the warmth that the rest of the meal lacked.

On the writing front, that’s +/- 1,340 new words. WIP stands at +/-124,785.

As soon as I’ve finished my tea, I will do my duty the cats, then clear a space on my desk so I can track me some changes.

The cats think I ought to take a nap, and they’re probably not wrong…
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Toe bean break:

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Yeah, I should’ve taken a nap. OTOH, the track changes are done and returned, and! I managed to turn off the water running into the toilet, go me.

I had made a comment the other day in my rant about the cost of Sssses and the prevailing wisdom of adding a “third” S to perfectly good words. Sometimes, in fact, the prevailing wisdom only adds one extra S.

Example: Chaos’s

That? Is an ugly something or other.

In my day, believe it or don’t, when you had a situation where you needed to show that Chaos was being possessive, you indicated that by this: Chaos’

Which looks much better to me than all these random Sssses wriggling all over the page.

All that said? I’m tired, and Rookie is insisting that it’s Happy Hour, so it must be time for me to wash the pots ‘n pans.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

Some are born to greatness

The Long Back Yard:

Saturday. Late getting up. Sunny and cold.

Firefly joined me on the couch last night and went to sleep really hard so I stayed with her and finished my book. Then I got up and wandered out to my office which was so bright that I thought I must have left the light on.

But no, it was the Moon. What a beautiful, beautiful moon, and the world turned black and white.

Shadows black and magical across the snow filled yard.

I sat on the cats observation table for a while and communed with the moon, which meant I didn’t get to bed until after midnight.

And here we are.

This was dictated via my phone
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So, today I’m taking down the decorations; have a couple of errands in the afternoon. Any writing will likely be of the Sitting with the Manuscript variety. Also need to swap out the cat fountains, in anticipation of which the dishwasher is doing its thing.

How’s everybody doing this morning?
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Decorations down — I nearly forgot the window star, but remembered it when there was a box with nothing in it.

Errands run. I have a grinder on loan, thanks to the generosity of Carmela Patriotti. Ordered in dunch while I was putting the taken-down decorations away. Dishwasher emptied and now it’s time to swap out the cat fountains, after which I do believe I may collapse on the couch and avoid the news.

All that said, I’ll just say my goodnights now.

Everybody stay safe, be careful, hug the people you love.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you from the man who wrote Shakespeare’s plays, from Twelfth Night: “Some are born to greatness, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”

Firefly helped me take the tree down:

Thursday. . .

The Long Back Yard

So. Thursday. Grey and on-and-off snow showers. Yes, that means I now have a icy driveway with a coating of snow.

I went to bed more or less at my regular time, and got up more or less at my regular time. Tali came to keep me company while I sat with the Happy Lite, and after breakfast, all three of the cats hustled me back to Steve’s office, with three very high tails: Oh, Good! Mom’s gonna work!

Breakfast was — all together now! — oatmeal with peanut butter and chocolate chips (Note to self: get more peanut/almond butter). Lunch was chicken in butter masala over rice with grapes on the side (Note to self: get more chicken breasts). Before anybody gets too excited the sauce came out of a jar, but I quick defrosted the chicken and browned it, so, yay! Cooking.

I had to name a ship and a Scout Archivist team, so I only wrote about 700 new words, though part of that was:

“Is that humor?”

Jen Sin thought for a moment. “Do you know? I’m not certain.”

Next up is putting away dishes, washing pots ‘n pans and writing some notes for the next section of Agent of Change. I’ll post a link when it’s up.

How’s everybody doing today?

Last post of 2025

2026 accounting set up. Got sidetracked on the swapping out of files by the recollection that Dead River was supposed to have delivered oil yesterday and?

That didn’t happen.

Called, and the dispatcher is temporarily unavailable, and someone will call me back. Staved off a panic attack by stripping the bed and putting the sheets in to wash. Tali came to sit on my lap, and assured me that she’d go get oil for me, just as soon as she got in all her scheduled naps. Won’t do to get behind schedule.

So, I’m guessing I should finish with the files, then heat up my leftovers, and hope somebody calls me back, or yanno, just sends an oil truck.
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The oil truck has arrived, and the young lady in charge has knocked on the door to make sure that “This is the house, right?”

And another praise well-earned, the young lady did not bring her truck down into my still slidey drive, but parked across the top. While she was minding the hose, the mailman came by, so I put on my ice grippers and my jacket. By the time I was ready to brave the tundra, she was coming back with my receipt and my mail — “Oh, no!” she said. “I didn’t want you to have to do all this. You stay safe, and stay warm!”

The home office at Dead River couldn’t exactly tell me why my oil has not been delivered on schedule, but they sent their A Level to fix it.

For whomever was wondering about the price of oil — Mary Carol?

268.1 gallons #2 heating oil @ $3.299/gallon. $884.48.
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Files changed out. 2026 accounting set up and awaiting entries . Desk put into neatness, and the dining room table, too. Remade the bed. Dishwasher doing its thing.

I am a tired woman, and I have a glass of wine in hand.

I either will or will not stay up to usher the old year out. I’m hoping that the Accounting Department sends us something akin to Mad Delm Theonna for 2026, because the Gods They know, we’re gonna need that kind of energy on our side.

Tomorrow, as has been my habit for many New Year Days, I intend to begin as I mean to go on. Which means I will be writing.

Possibly I will watch a movie, tomorrow. I had thought I would do that this evening, but, yeah, I’m too tired to be patient with a movie.

Everybody stay safe; if you’re partying, be careful. Oh, hell, be careful even if you aren’t partying.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Wrappin’ up

What Went Before: Tuesday

Total WIP +/-118,724. The cats were a great help.

I? Had forgotten there’s a Zoom business meeting this afternoon at 2, so I’d better get my chores done and my lunch et.

The driveway, as predicted is a sheet of ice. I’ve figured out that all I actually have to do is get inside the garage, so I can get in the car. I can stop on my way out (in the car) to needlework, to collect the mail, which is small snowy tramp. It’ll work. Ghod, I hate ice.

I did not try to take the trash or the recycling to the curb this morning, ref “ice” above. Maybe next week.

How’s everybody doing at midday on Tuesday?
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So, that was exciting. I was getting ready to leave for needlework and!

The garage door was frozen shut. By luck, I had been heating water for tea, and went out and poured the kettle along the inside the door and it opened. Sadly, I did not think of this before I had called my excellent plowguy to see if he had any ideas, and disturbed his evening, but I think I did catch him before he got on his way to my place with rock salt.

I went to needlework, and came back. The car is in the garage, but I don’t dare close the door because I have a PT appointment at 7:45 tomorrow morning.

This is why I hate ice. In addition to the whole sliding situation.

The coon cats have had happy hour and I have poured a glass of wine.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Wednesday, sunny and cold.

Back from my early PT appointment, from which I have gained a lot more homework, which I’m supposed to do many times a day. I’m going to have to put a lot of thought into how I’m going to accomplish all this and, yanno, write, read, play, with the cats and all those other extraneous things I do. I obviously don’t want to be crippled with back pain, but I’m thinking there’s a middle ground here, and I need to find it.

After PT, I treated myself to breakfast at Governor’s where, I kid you not, one waitress was handling the whole room, and busing too, until somebody else came on shift. It wasn’t over-crowded, but it was busy enough, and this is where it pays to be a long-term employee in a business that thrives on regulars. She knew just about everybody, we all knew her, nobody was in a hurry or on their way to a Big Freakin’ Meetin’ or anything — and between us, we made it work.

I stopped by the Post Office, collected the mail, stopped by the crosstown Hannaford, which I’m going to have to visit more often, as they seem to have more of what I’m wanting than the one round the corner, and came home to get one of the bags of Emergency Ice Melt Steve had stashed in the back of the garage onto the sled. I opened it with my trusty shovel, then we all half-skated out to scatter melt-crystals over the driveway.

. . . I’m getting down to the bottom of things that Steve stashed away against need, which is a somewhat melancholy realization, along with the other melancholy realization that I’m going to have to be advertent regarding these things.

Ice melt disposed, I came inside, made myself a cup of hot chocolate and checked on the cats — who are all in Steve’s office, because That’s What We Do in the morning.

Excellent cats.

Today, is making 2026 files, which I didn’t have the oomph to do earlier, and setting up next year’s accounting. I have leftovers for lunch, and a good book to read when I’m done my chores.

How’s Wednesday at your place?

Wednesday morning cat census:

Rain, rain go away; come again in May

The Long Back Yard

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It’s being a rather difficult day. Went to bed late and unhappy; woke up about 4:30, still unhappy, whereupon the Coon Cats leapt into action — or at least, onto the bed. In less time than it takes to tell it, I had a cat on top of me, a cat to the right of me, and yes! a cat to the left of me. These guys know their job; I went right back to sleep, and didn’t wake until after 8.

It was very nice to sleep and wake up rested, but it has kinda thrown the whole day sideways.

I’ve done a little bit of writing, and will maybe do some more, later, if I don’t just decide to make a blanket fort and read. I did manage to call Dead River to find out when my next oil delivery is, because we’re coming up on another multi-day interruption in the Usual, and my oil tank is down to less than a quarter. It’s a big tank, but I don’t want to test exactly how big. The good news is that my next delivery is!

Tomorrow.

It’s looking some miserable out there in the Real World. There’s water pooled on my driveway, which will this evening become an ice rink, and it would just be better all around, if, once Winter was Declared, we just stuck to snow as our default precipitation.

Well.

I’ve done some writing, one round of PT homework, more or less decided what lunch will be, though I still need to turn on the oven. Still need to do my duty to the cats, which I guess I’ll do while the oven’s warming.

And then? We’ll see. Though honestly, that blanket fort is looking dern good.

How’s everybody doing today?

The cats agree with the blanket fort idea:

Apologies

Press of business yesterday meant that I forgot to update y’all on the ever-fascinating details of my life. I now make amends. Thank you for your patience.

What went before

SATURDAY
Wakened early by Tali cursing the universe and the gods who had fashioned it.

Got up to find Rookie in the hall with a mouthful of orange fur, and Tali sitting on the edge of the dining room table (yes, yes, where No Cat is allowed, and it’s possibly worth noting that Rook did not follow her up there, so at least somebody pays attention to the treaty). Firefly was squinched under the standup desk in my office.

So! I don’t know exactly what the disagreement was about. Possibly Tali told Rook he had a stinky butt — and if so, she was not wrong. So, we did some cat clean up, and then I took a shower to finish waking up and here we are.

Kettle’s on, and Happy Lite also.

And how’s your morning going?
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It says here that I’ve been playing Finch for 500 days.

. . .not sure how I feel about that, actually. . .
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Wrote about 800 words, WIP currently weighing in the vicinity of 115,790. Stopping to do PT homework, one’s duty the cats, and um. I should eat something. I guess. Maybe a piece of leftover ham onna leftover biscuit. That’s lunch, ain’t it?
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Do I look healthy to you?

Time to talk to the virtual-visit nurse.

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SUNDAY

The Long Back Yard

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Well. 2:30, hey?

I got Involved. Wrote +/-1,335 words, did some tinking of former words. The WIP entire now weighing in at +/-117,180. I think I have eight more scenes to write.

My Plan is to write those eight scenes, and then put out a call for Beta Readers. NOTE: This is not that call. I’ll tell you when.

In between new words, I bought myself some on-sale alpaca socks form a local alpaca farm, and did a couple loads of laundry. I really thought I’d done laundry last week, but — maybe not. Whatever.

The cats were with me all day — that would be from 8:15 am until just a couple minutes ago. In fact, they’re still in Steve’s office, because once you get a good sleeping place primed, you just don’t walk away from it.

Though it be late, I have dinner/lunch/whatever on the stove — leftover chicken in gravy, peas, and mashed potatoes. I may actually have a glass of wine with that, because I am done writing for the day. (Breakfast, for those keeping score was oatmeal with almond butter and chocolate chips mixed in. Yes, again. I’m as baffled as you are.)

What else? Oh. I’m doing an Author Event at the Waterville Library on February 21, so I may start giving some thought as to what I’ll be wanting to talk about. I will be reading from Diviner’s Bow, and taking questions, along with the talking.

So! How’s everybody doing this afternoon?