chop wood carry water – Page 6

She wants a car with a cupholder armrest

Saturday. Sunny and not going to be quite so hot.

Had a good sleep and a fine dream just before waking. Steve and I had been given the happy news that we were being given a permanent residence and needed to move out of our temporary apartment. We were in the process of this when something I don’t quite understand happened to divert our attention to what was perhaps a police action. However, by the time we had been called to assist in that, we had moved our stuff- we seemed to have a lot less stuff in the new situation- and located our cat, who was on the other side of the parking lot. Steve got the cat inside just as the call for our attention came in.

It was a puzzling dream but not particularly unhappy or fraught.

I woke up soon after and my back didn’t hurt, but that’s changed now. This is getting old.

I’ve sat longer in the window than I meant but I had Firefly’s attention for some time, and since she had quite a lot to say, I figured not to interrupt her.

I’m planning on scrambled eggs for breakfast and then going to write. I thought I was going to Oxford today for the gem show but I think that’s off the table.

For those following the Perambulations of the Package, as of this morning it had made its way from the Rochester NY sorting station to the Northwest Rochester sorting station (which seems to be the wrong direction, but perhaps it’s a matter of “North” trumping “West”), and the United States Post Office disavows any knowledge of when it may arrive… anywhere.

Firefly has cleared my lap, Tali has visited briefly, and also moved on.

My first cup of Russian caravan tea is gone. Sounds to me like I ought to go find breakfast.

How’s everybody doing today? See less
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So, that’s 1,130ish new words written, bringing the WIP to +/-25,525, finally breaking 25,000 words, something I’d thought I’d see much earlier in the week.

I need to do my duty to the cats and then, I believe I shall, oh. Eat something. And then sit in the window and read my book.
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I have progress to report!

I ate lunch, for definitions of lunch. I unloaded the dishwasher and put the dishes away! I reloaded the dishwasher from the sink full of dirty dishes! And! I did the dishes that can’t go into the dishwasher.

Now, of course I’m exhausted, but that’s what my book is for.

When I sat down in the comfy chair in Steve’s office, Rookie immediately threw himself into my lap so I guess I’m here for awhile.

Today’s blog post title is from Cake: “Short skirt, long jacket“. Yes, again.

The first day lilies of summer

Monday. Breezy, sunny, and pleasant.

Wrote 1,000ish words today. Sadly, they replace the 1,000ish words I wrote yesterday, which had been predicated upon a misremembered history set forth in Balance of Trade. At least now the new scene is right, and I still get to keep Billy Wilde, who I so wanted on account of his ship is AcesWilde (or maybe WildeAce, to make a match with WildeToad), and not because I have any particular fondness for Billy himself. Well. Except that he has a piece of news that the other characters need.

Writer math.

What else? Vacuumed, performed my duty to the cats, took a walk, gathered the trash and recycling into the garage for tomorrow’s migration to the curb, scheduled a haircut for Thursday. Ate lunch. Broke a favorite (of course) plate. After I finish this letter to the internets, I’ll sit down with my notes for the WIP and refresh myself, now that I’ve broken 100 pages. Twice.

In neighborhood news, it looks like the new owners are moving into the big farmhouse. A car towing a trailer and a truck with the bed full of stuff arrived as I was getting lunch together.

Tomorrow is supposed to be a little cooler than today, so The Amended Plan is to arise and do breakfast, set out the trash, and go to Appleton early. After I’ve lavendered my fill, I’ll skate over to Belfast, hit the co-op and forage for either lunch or ice cream, and be back home in time for needlework.

And that? Would be all of my news.

What’s your news?

And! Let’s give it up for the first day lilies of summer, Cat Farm Time:

The angels have stolen my red shoes

What went before: Sunday. Sunny, breezy, and … seasonal. Hopefully, the heat wave has broken. We’re not built for heat waves up here in the northlands.

At the end of today’s writing session, I can report that! (1) I wrote 1590 new words, and! (2) the WIP has broken 100 pages, standing at +/-23,700 words.

Time to eat lunch, do my duty to the cats and some housetending.

I was surprised at the relatively low fireworks action last night. There was a display at Rummel’s Field, a couple blocks over, which I could hear, and also see some of the sky displays out the front window. Next year, the trees will be tall enough to block them.

Rookie sat on the cat tree in that window, and watched the show. Firefly retreated to Steve’s office, and Tali valiantly stayed with me on the couch, pressed against my leg, ears twitching at each boom! Every so often, she looked at me with a kind of “Are you sure about this?” expression. I would squint my eyes, and she would sigh and put her head down again.

So, there’s that.

Tomorrow, I may go to the lavender farm in the morning. Or not. I am fluid as to timing. I do need to find particulars of the boat tour of the Messalonskee on Saturday, but I can’t call the Adult Ed office until tomorrow.

I hope everyone is having a relaxing day.
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Forgot I was out of bread. Guess I’ll make this box of Scottish Toasting Bread.
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A notable day. Not only did George RR Martin (if that really was you, George–thanks) write to praise Diviner’s Bow and the entire Liaden Universe, but Steve’s In Memoriam on the SFWA site lists as his co-author/wife some woman named Sharon Lee Miller.

OTOH, the bread’s out, and it’s being very hard to resist, and I’m working toward a solution for all the photographs Steve just pitched willy-nilly into paper boxes and shoved into the back of his closet. I had had a go at straightening them out a couple years ago, and gave up, but this time, I have A Plan of Attack, so maybe the photos can at least get ordered by Where/When Was This Taken, which will do for a rough first sort, and if I want to fine it down, I can do that later.

All that said, I’m kind of tired, so — shutting down for the evening.

Everybody have a good night. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title comes to you from Elvis Costello, “Red Shoes.”

Saturday at the Cat Farm

Saturday. Sunny and not quite so hot as previous days.

I’m trying to up my daily word count, at least for this bit right here, where I really feel like I know all of our old friends Who, What, Where, and Why. So! The goal is 1,000 words for each writing session.

I do have some more Writer’s Days Off upcoming. Monday or Tuesday, for instance, I wish to visit the lavender farm in Appleton. And on Saturday, the boat tour of the Messalonskee I signed up for in Coldest January, will finally take place. Also, there’s the gem show in Oxford on Sunday. Which is almost looking like Too Much Fun, but! Summer is short and Winter is long.

Speaking of word count, today’s efforts produced 1,098 new words, for a WIP total of 22,110. Ish.

After lunch, which is up realsoonnow, I need to change out the cat fountains, feed the cats, scoop the boxes, and do some bookkeeping. A Theme!

Tomorrow, I may be able to return to writing after lunch, if I’m very ambitious this afternoon.

So! box lunch out of the freezer today. Yesterday’s hot dog from FiveGuys hit the spot, and the vanilla milkshake, too, so I should be good on the radioactive poison front for the next few months.

The cats all joined me in Steve’s office for my writing session, and they’re all still there, napping in sun puddles, and living their best lives. Or so I hope.

How’re you doing today?

The line’s not cut and the whale’s not gone

Tuesday. Back to not sleeping well. I did fall deeply asleep around 4 am and woke up again at 8. Does it count as sleeping late if you only got 4 hours of sleep?

Breakfast was oatmeal with raisins and a dab of maple syrup. Steve always used to put maple syrup in his oatmeal, but this was a first for me. It was good. And being as I have maple syrup, still, from Steve’s stash, it will be a repeat. Lunch — is hours away.

Trash and recycling are at the curb. Lawn guy is here doing lawn things. Rook and Tali are helping me here at my desk, where I have some stuff that has to be done this morning (bad planning, me). I do believe another cup of Russian Caravan Tea, the new favorite, is in order.

What else? I need to put gas in the car, and get smol bills at the bank, as I’m warned that tips will be needed on the whale watch (the boys in the basement provide a helpful graphic of tucking a five dollar bill under the whale’s belt. Thanks, guys.), and stop at the grocery. I can do all of that except the bank on my way home from needlework, and I can do the bank on my way in. Ta. Da.

I intend to get at least a couple hundred words written today, despite it all, and depending on how long these morning tasks will take me.

Almost done reading Alliance of Equals. I like it. And, as usual, I adore Daav. One does not give the Uncle a coin merely because he asks for it. Indeed. Indeed, one does not.

Also, may I just say — Shan? My ghod, Shan. And to the people said nobody would want books about traders, because traders are boring? Pfft, I say. PFFT!

How’re we all holding up today?

Today’s lyrics from “The Wellerman,” because — a theme. Here’s a link

Then I am the King of the Cats!

Nonsense first. Back when, I collected retellings of “The King of the Cats.” This one came across my FB feed last night. I’m not sure the link will work, but on the off-chance: The King of the Cats
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I’ve been needing a lot of extra therapy sessions lately. Happily, my counselor is flexible:

Monday. Sunny and starting to warm up toward our climactic Unsafe Heat Event, scheduled for Thursday.

Plans for the day include calling the peach ripe, cutting it up and having it for breakfast with cottage cheese. Because I can. After, I’ll go on back to Steve’s office and do some writing.

Yesterday afternoon went pear-shaped. I threw the bedclothes in to wash and the washing machine lost its mind — it entered the spin cycle, and then would start over with a rinse, over and over and over (the water district sent me a message last night that my water use was 2.5X over the average, and I might have a leak). I finally managed to get a half-spin, and dragged the soggy sheets out to the wooden laundry dryer I’d gotten out of the basement and set up on the (sunny at that point) deck, and — long story short; everything worked out, but I always feel like it’s somehow my fault when stoopid technical stuff happens, and that if Steve were here, it wouldn’t have happened.

Which! Is patently wrong, and I can very vividly remember several times when Technology Struck and Steve was standing Right There.

Given the above, I did not attempt to double-string my mobile, but settled down with my ice tea and a book, and then there was the non-thunderstorm, and from there it just all spiraled into an unhappy evening.

Hoping for better today.

I’m about 230 pages into Alliance of Equals, which I recall many people complaining about. So far, I’m finding it much better written than Dragon in Exile, which surprises me, and not at all off-putting. Of course, I don’t mind books that jump around, so long as the author makes clear where we are, and so far the author has done so. Well. Maybe it all falls apart at the end. We’ll see.

And all that said? I’d best get breakfast and start the day.

What’s the weather where you are?

And, for those who are still with me — here’s the rest of the story:

Half-a-Sunday

Sunday. Sunny and warmer than latter days.

This morning’s work was going through Kin Right in search of those errors and fixing them. I herewith report progress: One was not an error, merely the time has not yet arrived. The other two … can be explained, in-world, and therefore are not errors.

The last load of towels is drying and the bedclothes are washing.

I have retired the trade station while Further Thoughts are Thunk.

I believe that I shall, as they say, Take The Rest of the Day Off. Perhaps I shall descend to The Studio and have a go at double-stringing my stars. After that, maybe I’ll make a big glass of iced tea and read a book.

Decadence, thy name is Rolanni.

The cats are distributed thusly — Tali is in the box on the corner of Steve’s desk; Firefly is in her Usual Position at the top of Mount Circular Logic, also in Steve’s office. Both are napping.

Rookie is curled up on top of the cedar chest in my office. He is — surprise! — napping.

They may be on to something.

What are you doing today?

Addendum: Sigh.

<complaint> I am getting Deeply Tired of the folks who are convinced that every piece of writing that’s come out since Steve died is a “wrap up,” or “the final.” We’re not at The Final yet, right? I’ll tell you when.</complaint>

Tools down

So apparently there’s an app that lets repair people know when you’re sitting down for lunch. Also, Rookie growled at the generator guy. Who is still working, having found a need to install a new battery.

Computers have been taken offline and the lights are out pending the “simulated power outage,” after which I suppose I will sign a paper and then Wander The House resetting all the clocks.
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End of the day. It’s raining. I am Utterly Frazzled. I don’t say I’m at the edge of an…Undesirable Head Space, but I can see it from here, and it ain’t pretty. The cats have pulled in, which is very good of them. Perhaps an early glass of wine, after I finish up here.

Anyhow, that’s 1,260 new words on the day, bringing the WIP entire to +/-16,220.

Tomorrow, I need to make those correx to Kin Right, and also name a couple characters in the current WIP. I’m … kind of impressed that we managed a short story and a book without giving Uncle Rusko a last name. I, mean, I like Rusko; he’s a good man, and he’s good for Tranh. He deserves a last name, amirite?

Before I sign off for the evening, and hoping for a better day tomorrow — have a snippet:
Bry Sen had a black eye.
Mac Gold had a broken arm.

Got a cobra snake for a necktie

Tuesday. Raining.

The trash ought to be migrated to the curb, but…maybe not. I’ll see how I feel about getting wet after breakfast and a second cup of tea.

In the meantime, I had intended to do Errands today, but have taken the Executive Decision to Do That Tomorrow, ref “rain” above.

So! Amended schedule: oatmeal and blueberries for breakfast. More tea! A couple hours with the WIP, lunch, chores, craft club.

Nothing the matter with that day, is there?

This morning, FB served up a guy who comes up pretty often in my feed lately, who has taken it on himself to “mansplain” women to men, taking the distaff side, and not doing too bad a job of it. This morning’s episode started with a joke, an “overhead conversation” between two women. The first says to her friend, “I don’t understand why you’re single! You’re smart, and funny, you’ve got a good job — what are men thinking?” And the friend says, “Well. I’m overqualified.”

pause for laughter

Social media keeps telling me that there are a lot of hurtin’ guys out there, and I am once again grateful, because the men in my life were largely supportive of me; taught me things (my father taught me how to change a tire; my grandfather taught me how to feed ducks; Jack Robinson, despite bearing seeping internal injuries from The War, taught me how to play cards; Danny-who-owned-the-bar (also wounded, but hiding it better) taught me the Japanese words that meant his guard dogs knew I filed under ‘to be guarded’ and not ‘to be guarded AGAINST.’), and celebrated my victories. Women didn’t like me, but that’s another essay.

Steve thought having a smart, creative, tough partner was all to his benefit, and if there were things he knew that I didn’t, well. He didn’t know everything either, now did he? Neither one of us was The Boss, and God She knows I was never “trad woman” material. Each of us was, as we told eluki on one occasion, half a good pilot. She used that in one of the Hellflower books, exemplary writer that she was.

. . . not really sure where I’m going with this. Random Tuesday Rainy Thoughts, I guess.

So! Good morning! How’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Lonesome George Thorogood: “Who do you love?”

Fragmented Friday

This morning, some of us slept in:

Friday. Juneteenth, I’m told.

640ish new words written, bringing the total words to 10,700ish.

Stopping for lunch. Rook and Tali helped me do my PT homework, and Firefly oversaw the writing part of the morning. My duty to the cats has been performed, and now I need to eat lunch and go outside with my chair for half an hour and weed.

Speaking of the new meds — my blood pressure dropped 30 points overnight (taking it from Scary High into the vicinity of what I consider to be Normalish) and I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. That’s some quick work, if it isn’t a fluke. I guess we’ll see.

How’s everybody doing?
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Today’s Done-To List:
1 Wrote 670ish words
2 PT exercises
3 Duty to Cats
4 Walk
5 Cooked and ate lunch
6 Weeded side of garage
7 Worked on “lesson plan” for the characterization course
8 Washed dishes
9 Read 20 pages of book club book (Sourdough)
10 Updated FB

Still to-do
1 Answer a couple of notes
2 Feed cats
3 Compile blog entries and post
4 Serve Tali Happy Hour right now (ahem)