chop wood carry water – Page 9

Kept comin’ up with love, but it’s so slashed and torn

Wednesday. Dim and chilly. The weatherbeans say it will be MUCH COOLER (caps original) than yesterday, with rain.

Went to bed late-ish last night, and slept in this morning.

Breakfast was oatmeal, semi-sweet bits, and almond butter. Drinking my second cup of tea. Lunch will … depend on details surrounding the arrival of the dishwasher, the window of delivery being between noon and 2.

After I finish this letter to the internets, I expect I’ll be doing dishes, putting them away and clearing the counter over the dishwasher. I will be very interested to see how they’re gonna get the dishwasher installed. It is a very tiny kitchen. OTOH, there’s a dishwasher right there, so the concept is proven. One of the things I always look forward to in these scenarios is the opportunity to learn new words.

Last night after I came home from needlework, I colored for a bit, and listened to Sea Wrack and Changewind, by Sharon Lee, narrated by Alex Picard. Good stories. Good narration. Five stars and a chocolate brownie to author and narrator.

In addition to clearing the work area, I need to call — Agren, I guess — to see if they can send a guy to look at the fridge, which persists in not making ice. Also, I need to explore setting up a Zelle? account.

Well. That’s looking like a busy day right there.

What’s your day looking like?

The problem with buying stuff on sale is that by the time you realize these are the best jeans on the planet, they’re sold out.

With! bonus cat census.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Queen and David Bowie, “Under Pressure“

I set a course for winds of fortune

Monday. Dim, damp, and cooler than the temperature on the thermometer would leave you to believe.

Car service concluded. I had forgotten that I had a Free oil change and tire rotation on the books as an apology for last year’s narrowly-averted tragedy. I was also verbally apologized to several times for that mistake, and the tech not only asserted that he had tightened the oil cap correctly, but he demonstrated that this was so to the manager.

While I was in the Big City, I retired several errands, and! as a Special Bonus, I have a gift of homemade lasagna for lunch.

I’m home now (and will be unless I Get A Call, which I don’t expect) and have eaten the last cookie. Why does this keep happening? WHO IS EATING MY COOKIES?

Ahem.

While I was driving to and fro, I heard a clip from an interview with a member of Kansas, who was describing the first time the band played “Wayward Son.” One comment made me laugh out loud: “We all loved that song. We loved it so much we never thought it would be a hit single!”

Spoken like an artist.

Now that I am home, and absent a phone call, I’m going to take another whack at getting The Fey Duology up for preorder.

How’s Monday morning treating everybody?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Kansas, “Carry On Wayward Son“

Not Mother’s Day

Sunday. Rainy and chill.

Woke up naturally at a little after six and decided I was Up. Wished Tali a Happy Mother’s Day*, and threw a spring for her. Rook brought me his ball and I threw that for him. After I’d found pants and a sweater, and brewed the morning’s first cuppa to have with the Happy Lite, Firefly jumped up into my lap and gave me all the cuddles.

Breakfast was leftover mashed potatoes, leftover corn, leftover sausage, onions, parmesan cheese, and an egg all scrambled together. Whatever it was, it was good.

Threw in a load of laundry when I woke up, because I could, and I’ll have to shift it to the dryer in a couple minutes.

Regarding the morning cuppa. I had been drinking Russian Caravan tea for my first cup, which I liked very much, but then it was gone, so I moved on to the next envelope (these teas having been part of a Holiday Gift of Tea), which happened to be Lapsang Souchong, and I liked that even more. I ordered in more of both sorts, but while I was waiting, I opened the smaller envelope of Darjeeling. I’ve never much cared for Darjeeling, but, tastes change.

I can now report that, whatever it is that makes those first cups of Russian Caravan and Lapsang Souchong so satisfying, Darjeeling has it not. Perhaps it has a place as an afternoon tea, but I tend to switch over to non-caffeinated teas in the afternoon in the interests of getting some sleep on the overnight.

. . . and that’s my Tea Report.

Lunch will be soup, in honor of the rain, rain, rain, and I’m on my way to Steve’s office to get some work done. After I detour to the laundry room and switch the wet clothes to the dryer.

What’re you doing today?

______
*No, today is not Mother’s Day, which I am now sufficiently caffeinated to realize. In my own defense, the number and urgency of internet communications I’ve been receiving on the topic of Mother’s Day led to me to believe it must be upon us. Steve and I did not celebrate Mother’s Day; he would send flowers to his mother, but otherwise, it was just another Sunday in May.

I have a dream…

OK, then! Friday evening. I’m sure I must’ve done something today, but I’m not bringing it to mind at the moment.

In re My Dream*, I have one contractor coming out to look the situation(s) over tomorrow afternoon. There are, in fact, two situations, The Dream and the need for roof extensions over the back wall of this house to fend the rain off.

I have heard back from Draft2Digital, which assures me that, if they believe that a Mistake Has Been Made, they will contact me and offer options for Fixing Said Mistake. I will therefore be going forward with republishing the Fey books.

Rookie stamped his feet and demanded to be let outside, so I told him he had to wear his jacket. To the astonishment of everyone, including Rookie, he let me put his jacket on, attach the leash, and take him out to my chair on the deck. He was content to sit on my lap for a few minutes, then squirmed to Get! Down! and did a sllloooowwww exploratory creep-and-sniff of the corner of the deck off of Steve’s office. I brought him inside when it seemed like he was thinking about squeezing through the rail posts to see what was on the other side.

So! Busy few days upcoming — tomorrow, I believe I will go to TJ Maxx’s little party for its members, then the contractor in the afternoon. Sunday, I’ll try to get the Fey Duology up for preorders. Monday, car to Charlie’s for its annual whatnot; Tuesday Dead River to do another inspection (didn’t we just do that?); Wednesday, the much anticipated delivery of the dishwasher, and Thursday morning crack o’dawn, the installation.

Phew. Oh. I need to line up a haircut. For the week after next, is what I’m thinking…

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.
__________
*Transcription of a post to FB, seeking advice:

Where are my handyfolk?

Handyfolk, I have A Dream.

My Dream is to have a permanently attached screened room with a solid ceiling on my deck, ideally using one of the French doors in Steve’s office as access. This would be both a catio and a place for me to sit out and take the air, while managing to dodge the Evil Solar Rays that radiation therapy has (according the Cancer Ladies, and I’m inclined to believe them on this) Forever Placed Beyond My Reach.

How would I go about achieving this Dream? Which seems fairly modest to me, but what do I know? How much is it likely to cost?

The reason it has to be permanently affixed, is that I have a screen house, but I can’t either put it up or take it down by myself and in high winds it’s a flight risk.

Spanish Aunts.

Writ of Replevin

. . . which was the title we submitted the book now known as Trade Secret under. Steve thought it was perfect, and as Steve was lead on the book, he got to title it. Alas, Baen Management for some reason did not resonate to Writ of Replevin, though Madame owned herself to have learned something.

I am back from crafting. The cats are enjoying Happy Hour and I’m about to find something for dinner.

Got a busy few mornings coming up — COVID shot tomorrow morning, after which I’ll pick up a few things at the grocery store (being as I’ll be in the grocery store), come home, change out the cat boxes, and then maybe do some work. Or at least continue reading Trade Secret.

Thursday morning, I need to take the car in for an oil change and tire rotation, hoping that this time they’ll remember to tighten — no really — tighten the oil cap.

Friday morning, Sarah will be by to do her thing, and Saturday! There’s a Members Party at TJMaxx. As I find myself unexpectedly a Member, p’rhaps I’ll go.

All this to say that I’ll be in and out for the remainder of the week.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I will check in as opportunity allows.

My cat is purring, it scratches my skin

The reason for yesterday’s trip to TJ Maxx was to acquire summer weight lap coverings to accommodate the cats. (Firefly and Tali prefer a blanket layer. Rookie doesn’t appear to care.)

Here you see the lap covering, AKA beach towel, for the comfy chair in my office.

You also see the Tali seal of approval in play.

LOL!!! Local peeps! If you get the Bangor Daily News, take a look at the Top Maine Towns you Should Live In. Not only does Waterville not make the graphic, but Kennebec County doesn’t even show up on the graph!

Oh, wait.

*whispers* . . . did . . . did Canada adopt us and I missed the memo? Huh? Is that what happened? Tali’s standing on my desk right now, telling me she won’t at all mind being a Canadian Coon Cat.

#
So! Tuesday. Which I was for a moment convinced it was Wednesday, but Firefly straightened me out. Sunny and breezy. We here in Kennebec County, Canada, are laboring under a Fire Warning, due to dry air incoming, pushed by excess breeze. Well, there.

Trash and recycling are at the curb, and breakfast has been et.

Today has been A Week, and it’s just past 9 am.

Last night, I noticed that my left ankle, which I had sprained back in God, She Knows. When were we GOHs at ChattaCon? Then. (January 2012; I looked it up. Also — how long ago?) Anyhow, I noticed that ankle was aching last night, but I put it down to having actually been on my feet quite a bit yesterday, In Between It All. Sleep would fix it, I thought.

Well. I woke up this morning and said ankle was swollen, and still, yeah, achy. So I searched out the ankle brace and got that on. Came out and started a cup of chocolate tea, got out the milk while I was waiting for that to finish brewing, opened the windows, prepped the comfy chair, came back to my tea, took it into the kitchen, picked up the milk, absently shook it and!

You’re ahead of me, I can see the smirks.

Yep. Milk everywhere. I did a mop-up, but I still have to wash the utensils (puddles of milk in the kitchen tool holder by the stove. ick.), and make sure I got all the milk, oh, off the wall. Yeah, this may qualify as a Personal Best. I’ll check the record book.

OTOH, there are daffodils.

And how’s Tuesday treating you?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Scorpions, “Rock You Like a Hurricane”

Starting the day with sunshine

Monday. Sunny and already warm. All the windows are open and the cats are lounging in the breeze from the sliders in Steve’s office.

The first load of towels needs to be taken out of the dryer and the second load put in.

The area rugs and runners are outside and over the rails, taking the sun. My deck chair and table are set up and ready for use.

Regarding the deck chair. When I got it out of the closet where it overwintered, there were five springs taking shelter beneath its skirts. FIVE.

For book club, I’m reading A Gentleman in Moscow, which I’m enjoying. It strikes me that this may have been what Theo of Golden was striving for, and, err, didn’t achieve.

Since I just recently read Balance of Trade, I started Trade Secret last night, wherein I note that the Young Gentleman reveals to us The Plan. I believe that Jen Sin reviled the Young Gentleman’s clan in Salvage Right, and also said something about The Plan, which I will need to check.

Honest to ghu, this universe is tight. The authors must’ve have a million databases. *cough*.

I have a couple titles that will fit in the small blank stars on the front of the Starry Shirt, so I’m getting those ready to be embroidered.

And! I have not yet heard from D2D customer service, which is not surprising, and I really don’t expect to hear from them this week.

I believe I need to step out for a few minutes to hit the TJMaxx in-town, and also the Hannaford. P’rhaps I’ll get the car washed. I have a pass, after all.

How’s everybody doing this fine Monday morning?

Nope, still a ways to go

So! I found somebody to install the dishwasher when it arrives (actually, the day after it arrives). I had thought that part was going to be the most difficult, after the whole banking mess, but — a pleasant surprise.

The tech from Andersen who was supposed to be here by 12 and then by 1:30 has yet to arrive. He did call when he realized he was running late, so I was able to have lunch.

The laundry is almost finished, and Firefly is sleeping in the comfy chair in my office. Tali and Rook came out to shark at lunchtime, but I think they’ve gone back to Steve’s office.

On the Writing Side of Things, my plan is to finish getting The Fey Duology ready to rock ‘n roll, catch myself up on the Liaden Read Along commentary, and read the Jethri books as a lump.

The last is in service of ensuring that This Idea I Had to finish up that sub-series will actually square with what’s already canon.

This means, yes, I’ll be — adjusting — the order of my complete reread of the Liaden books, but needs must, and at least I’ll still be reading in-Universe.
#
On Facebook, someone commented that I had clearly always been a cat, which gave rise to this memory:

You may be on to something. The first time Steve and I went together into a neighborhood strange to both of us, we had barely gotten out of the car when two cats came charging down the street, tails high, ran right up to Steve and started slamming themselves against his knees. He knelt down, administered ear scrubbles, then kinda looked up at me, half-smiling (I might have been staring), and said, “Yeah. Cats like me.”
#
So, today didn’t quite work out like I expected, but! Tomorrow’s decks are clear, so I can hop right into The Fey Duology.

Everybody have a good evening. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Are we there yet?

Friday. Sunny and cool.

Finished yesterday with a phone call from the Investigator from the finance company, who only wanted to tell me what I’ve been told eight times before, that they did not submit the check twice and the error was on the bank’s side. I told her to call the bank, but no, investigators can’t call banks to find out WTF. Nor can banks call investigators. I was a moderate wreck by the time we finished up, and spent the evening reading until I stopped shaking. I finished When the Wolves are Silent around 11 pm.

I did have a pleasant dream where I was grocery shopping with Steve, so there was that.

Woke up this morning, called the bank and went through five levels of experts until the fifth said, “Jeez, I don’t know why we pulled — oh, wait. Yanno? I bet we weren’t sure that said thousand.” So, we verified that the needed funds were in the account (yes). I called the finance company, explained that the bank had acted out of an Over-abundance of Caution, verified the amount due, which I carefully BLOCK PRINTED on the check, and God, may She be willing, this is the end of that.

(And, yes, I am aware that we have reached the land of Everybody Make Something Up Until we Hit on Something that Sounds Plausible and Doesn’t Lose Anybody Their Job.)

What else?

Ah. Indeed, Ray cannot install my dishwasher-arriving-on-May-6 for me, so I need to cast about for someone else.

And? There’s actually more, but I’ll reserve the rest for later, before this becomes too long.

How’s Friday treating y’all?
________
* I believe it was Val Con who said that being a Scout was one-quarter being terrified and three-quarters mucking about in the mud? The same can be said of being a writer.
#
Oh, hey, here’s more:

Back when I first met Steve, I operated on the principle that people — all people — were out to get me, and that I could trust no one. Which makes the entry of Steve into my life even more extraordinary, but — that aside.

I hate that we — or at least I — have returned to a place where I must suspect everything of being a scam.

This takes a toll on your soul, and I hate it. I especially hate it because for much of my life, after Steve convinced me that sometimes, people will actually be kind and helpful because there are kind and helpful people in the world, I very much benefited from the kindness of strangers.

And now? Everyone has to be Scrutinized and Weighed and the walls must be fortified. Not just the normal stuff of “You’re Old and Now You’re Prey” that’s always been out there, but the unrelenting barrage of people trying to steal from you, frighten you, and trick you is approaching lethal. And now, there are AIs added to the arsenal of the scammers.

In this brave new world…

Rainy Day and Story Notes

Thursday. Rainy and cool.

Today, I believe, is going to include a sizeable chunk of time in the Comfy Chair in my office, with a pen, a pad of paper and various notes. Which is to say — working, today.

I will be baking a couple of chicken breasts, some of which will be for lunch today, the rest of which will be leftovers.

I have a note from the finance company assuring me that they are On The Case.

In all the Excitement attending the finance company shenanigans the other day, I forgot the Biggest! News! Users of electricity have been being promised for months now that our electricity bills Will Be going down next year, and a couple days ago I got a letter from CMP, assuring me that this happy news is true!

In fact, my monthly electric bill will be doing down by!

Four dollars.

Y’all, I can’t even buy a bottle of cheap wine for four bucks anymore.

I noted several people remarking on how small alpacas are, and indeed they are much shorter than their cousin, the llama. Breed standard calls for a compact animal, and one of yesterday’s companions of the road — Obadiah — is considered Too Tall, and for that defect, he will never know the joys of alpaca fatherhood.

All that said — I’m no longer six foot tall, but I’m still way taller than the so-called “average” American woman at five-foot-three-anna-half feet. Cory, who is closer to the average, but not what I would call short, had to reach UP to fasten Zander’s lead, and had to Speak Sternly to Obie, when he casually lifted his head, putting his nose beyond her reach, when she was trying to fasten the lead.

So — alpacas are compact, yes — but they’re not small. I would not, for instance, have wanted Zander to step on my foot.

Oh! And another question — this regarding the cat balls — Do the cats like them? Yes! In fact, these are the culmination of A Quest to replace the two (similar) cat balls that Rookie carried around with him and brought to me to throw for him, and, indeed, brought to his grandpa Trooper, to show him what a ball was. The original balls are doubtless in a safe place, because they are Treasure, but Rookie doesn’t really get the springs, though he’ll compete with Tali, because — Competition R Rook — and none of the other balls in the house are quite so perfect as those which have been banked.

So! All questions now being answered: What’re your plans for the day?