Sitting by the window, watching the snow fall

What went before: I cleared all the backed up paperwork.  fingers crossed

Wednesday. Sunny and cold. The three youngers are having Da Zooms. Trooper is asleep in his copilot’s chair; he’s exhausted from having to wake me at 3:30, 4:30, and 5:15. I don’t blame him; I slept in after he gave up.

Breakfast was cottage cheese, grapes, and toast. Yeah, I was lazy. Lunch may be a salad ( ref “lazy”).

We here in Central Maine are looking for Severe Weather in the form of ice-and-snow from midnight through tomorrow afternoon. I suppose the Path of Wisdom is to reschedule Tali’s meet ‘n greet. She still doesn’t reliably let me pick her up, believing, as she apparently does, that I’m going to be putting her in a cat carrier and Taking Her Somewhere (nor would she, in the case, be wrong), and adding in the weather just puts too much angst on all concerned.

As above, Tali is still a bit unsettled. She wants to sit on my lap, but then she remembers that I could be working for the Other Side, and jumps down. She leapt up onto the couch last night to join Firefly and me. Firefly was very courteous; they touched noses like civilized felines, then Tali began to knead. This process went on far too long for Firefly’s nerves and she left. Whereupon Tali left, and though she visited me several times during the evening, she would no sooner sit on my lap than need to leap up and Go See. i didn’t see Firefly again until I went to bed, and found her curled up against my pillow. I slipped in beside her; she purred, and I went to sleep.

What else? Ah. Video chat with the cyber-pro this afternoon. One’s duty to the cats, and perhaps a short walk.

I have taken the decision to doodle in the scenes as they occur to me for the next bit, then move them around until they all snap into the right place. Frequent readers of this space will recall that this is the technique I used to write Salvage Right, though at the time I wasn’t thinking it would be necessary to write ALL Jen Sin books in the same way.

There were calls in various places for photos! of the cats’ elegant new dishes. I’m not ignoring these requests, but the dishes are currently in the dishwasher, getting washed. Watch the skies.

I think that’s everything. I’m awaiting Friday with interest, to see if my SSA payout arrives in the bank, and I’m trying not to look ahead to next Thursday.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm.

What’s your news?

Cats at work:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today’s blog post also brought to you by Laurie Anderson, backed up by Peter Gabriel.  “Excellent Birds,” or, if you prefer, “This is the Picture.”  Link.

The sun’s coming up like a big bald head

What went before:

Yesterday, I went first to the Verizon store on behalf of my phone. Having called Murphy’s attention down upon me by packing for a Day at the Verizon Store, I was — the first one there, and had three reps at my beck.

The first was newish, but told me that my screen protector was cracked. I said I thought it was the screen and would be grateful if she could prove to me that it was only the protector.

This was a little too assertive (sigh), and the second rep came over to explain that I could request a protector from Corporate, or buy one at the store I was standing in and they would install it for me.

I thanked her for the information and once! again! asked if it could be demonstrated that it was the protector and not the screen that was damaged.

She looked at the phone, with the cracks radiating out from the chip, and said, “Oh, yeah; that’s the screen protector.”

I invited her to remove it and assure us all that it was not the screen that was damaged.

…what I tell you three times…

She shrugged and peeled the protector (which itself is some kind of glass, who knew?) off. Indeed, the phone itself was intact.

The second rep installed the new protector, I paid the first, and exchanged farewells and keep-warms with the third rep, who had wisely kept herself aloof in case somebody else came in the door, and went home, richer by an uncracked screen protector and poorer by 50 small.

My trip to the dentist was more expensive and more nerve-wracking, but all’s well there, and I don’t have to do it again until November.

Moving on. . .

Tuesday. Cold enough for me. Sun’s an orange ball behind the trees. I’ll get the trash out when it’s warmer than -1F/-18C.

Waked before my time for a Cat Clean Up Emergency. First cup of tea is here at the desk with me. Breakfast will shortly be sausage and cheese on an English muffin and the rest of the pineapple, assuming it’s still edible. Lunch will chicken breast and — A Vegetable to be Named Later.

Worked past coon cat happy hour, getting my credit reports frozen, and Steve’s (because I never got ’round to doing that other thing. Honest, the few things that are turning up to be dealt with now drag at me like the stuff I had to do Just After Steve left didn’t. ‘course then, I was laboring under the delusion that I was finishing up a few chores before I got on the road to join him at the new place. Brains, man; what will they think of next.)

Anyhow, the credit freeze is nailed down. I should probably lock down the cards I don’t use often (or at all. BOA, I’m looking at you.), but that has to wait until I get the cats’ chips refiled.

I ought to go to sewing today; it’s been basically forever. Also I need to pick up the papers from my lawyer, and make? A phone call!

Last night, after my labors with the credit agencies, I made a cup of tea, and betook myself to my bed to read. Tali understands reading in bed, the rest of the guys, not so much, though Rook gave it a try. It worked out pretty well for me, until I had to actually, yanno, go to sleep and had to be shifting pillows out of the way so I could lay down, and by that time, I was awake again.

I think that’s all I’ve got, and I really ought to get with breakfast.

What’ve you got going today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Laurie Anderson, “Sharkey’s Day.”

In which pets keep us healthy

What went before: I backed up my phone, in anticipation of getting its screen replaced, one way or another.

The WIP broke 2,000 words, which was good, but they were not the words, or perhaps the feel, that I wanted, which is why word count is such a flawed indicator of progress.

Firefly and Tali sniffed noses! And Firefly initiated the contact! Big step in the right direction.  Later on, of course, she raised Holy Heck when Tali tried to join us on the blanket to read.  One step forward…

Fast forward to!

Sunday. It was snowing when the cats woke me with a BANG! at 5:30, after I had grumped at Trooper for yelling at me to get up at 4:45. Anyhow.

The snow’s stopped and the sun is doing a country dance with the clouds.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast with jelly, because I was Just. That. Cranky. Lunch — who needs lunch? Honestly, this constant having to eat a meal is really annoying. I sympathize with the Haosa.

After breakfast, I sat in the office comfy chair under the nice heated throw, and alternated glaring out the window, researching details in Salvage Right, and handwriting letters, to see if that produced more of the Feel I was going for, and — yeah, it did. No surprises, there, really, except for the perennial one — You knew handwriting those letters would improve the flow, so why did you type them? The ways writers find to impede their own process is just mind boggling.

My lap has been host to several cats. Rookie is having a tough morning — he got himself so underfoot that I stepped on his tail, and we had to have a love-fest to Make It Better.  Ten minutes later, he tried to jump from my desk to the chair, only it spun just as he took off, and he crash-landed on the floor.  Firefly smacked him in the head, since he’d just missed landing on her.

First load of towels is in the dryer; second load in the washer. Cat bowls have been refilled. The oven is heating for sugar cookies. Maybe I’ll have sugar cookies for lunch.

Today’s to-do includes more research, writing, and probably glaring. Laundry, obviously, and one’s duty to the cats. Drafting an InfoDump so it can be ready to go when I get the word that the Liaden Universe News list is up and delivering. Oh, and sweeping the front steps.

So! What time did your family pet(s) wake you up this morning?

 

Alarums and Excursions

What went before:  The WIP has broken its first milestone of 1,000 words, and in fact weighed in at 1,300 words at close of bidness.

Also, I solicited information on how to get a cracked phone screen repaired. (I dropped my phone on Sunday, and broke the screen — a personal first, though I’d hate to tell you how many times I’ve dropped my phone over the years.)

Onward.

Saturday. Chilly and bright. Were here in Central Maine are rejoicing in a Severe Weather Alert. The ‘beans apparently found an unopened bag of Winter in the back studio that nobody uses and slipped the knot.

We are therefore expecting, between 7pm this evening and 1pm tomorrow, 4-6 inches of snow. Note to self, turn the car around in the garage so it’s facing out. I was lazy yesterday and pulled straight in.

So! We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory have already experienced alarums and excursions, and that’s before we view the result of Shan’s first bout of letter-writing.

Alarum the First: Walked into the living room to find that the front door was not only unlocked, but ajar. It is of course entirely possible, not to say likely, that what happened is that I failed to lock the door last night and either air pressure or Midnight Cat Wrasslin popped it. This is also, of course, not the first thing one thinks when they find the front door open upon waking in the morning, and knowing oneself alone in the house.

So, a walk-around, heart in mouth, accompanied by cats who wished to inform me that their bowls! were! empty! They weren’t wrong (this error has since been amended), but it seemed unlikely that the Theoretical Intruder had been a Giant Polydactyl Cat, who had jimmied the door in order to steal a snack.

We appear to be secure, and yes, I should get a deadbolt, but then someone would have to install it, and, given that Someone is Not Me, the point is moot.

Alarum the Second: I had determined to have cottage cheese with pineapple cut into it for breakfast, with toast. When I opened the carton of cottage cheese that I had purchased yesterday, the carton was half full of — milk. This was distressing. I mean, the reason I eat cottage cheese is so I won’t have to drink milk, vile stuff that it is (unless, y’know, properly treated with chocolate, or fermented into skyr or yogurt or cheese). Investigation discovered the cheese curds beneath the milk, so I strained the carton. The actual food thus recovered was fine and the toast was excellent.

Given the above, it seems somewhat poor-spirited to note that there were Dusty Cat Prints on the stove top this morning. I appreciate that a girl has to investigate; I only hope she doesn’t lead the others into Error.

At this point, however, I’m a little leery of predicting, or indeed making, lunch. I think there might be some potato and leek soup. It might be a good day for potato and leek soup.

What else? Ah. My new Lunchtime Read is The Sign of the Dragon by Mary Soon Lee, illustrated by Gary McCluskey. It has a Goblin Emperor vibe, and I’m enjoying it, though I’m only about 25 pages in.

Today’s chores include — laundry!  Also, closing down the Guest Parlor, since it seems we’re Past That now, turning the car around (yes, that needs to be on the list, or I’ll forget to do it), eating something for lunch, and recording the results of Shan’s letters the First and Second.

That should, she said hopefully, keep me busy.

I see that the Elm Plaza Verizon store opens at 9am on Monday (it’s also open today and tomorrow, but that’s not pertinent to this discussion). I have a dental appointment at 12:45 on Monday, so I could plan on hitting Verizon at the stroke of 9, making sure I have a book or six with me, and if they’re not able to deal with me before noon, go to the dentist. This is the Current Plan.

What’s your Current Plan?

Tali continues to Settle In.

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)

Thursday’s child has far to go

Thursday. Grey and cold. Apparently the snow risked a speeding ticket to get to us by noon, instead of four, as previously predicted.

Breakfast was rice cakes, cream cheese, grapes, tea. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will likely come down to tuna melt, because — snow. Also, lazy.

Tali is not AT ALL convinced that I should sing “Me and Julio” along with the radio. Let’s hope they don’t play “Werewolves of London” anytime soon.

Last night I broke a cat food dish — of course one of four that “matched.” The cats don’t care and, sometime when it’s not set to snow a blizzard, I’ll be dropping by the Dollar Store, or Goodwill to pick up replacements, but I hate to break things.

We’ve had a busy few days in Maine, and not in a good way. On Monday, police answered a call of domestic violence, which resulted in a many hours armed standoff. The proximate cause of this situation, Steven Righini, had posted messages ranting against abortion, Democrats, and other Liberal Evils. His hostages were his SO and their baby. Mr. Righini was eventually shot and killed by officers, but not before he had shot and wounded Officer Johnathan Russell and killed his K9 partner, Preacher.

On Tuesday, a guy walked into our local Wal*Mart and stabbed himself in the neck. And, yesterday, another person, not yet apprehended, went into the food court at the South Portland Mall and killed someone.

It would be nice if Karma and the Rule of Three could expedite the paperwork, is all I’m saying.

Ashley’s due to arrive in about an hour to clean. I will be retiring to Steve’s office, as I do, which means it will be open for cat business for the first time since Monday.

I have a big stack of Who Knows What to sort through. This afternoon, I intend to write.

And that’s the news at the start of the day.

How’s your day starting out?

This morning’s cat census.  I note that Rook is slightly confused.  When I walked into the bedroom, he and Tali were on the bed.  Rook was showing his belly and hissing at the same time.

All’s well that ends well, feline edition

Well.  Where to start?

Ah.  Thank you to everyone who read and kindly donated to “Core Values.”

If you haven’t read the story yet, here’s your link to the introduction, which itself includes a link to the story.  You may read the story for free.  Those who wish may also donate, to the story, to the site, to the Coon Cat Food Bank, or to the author. A donation is not required to read the story.

Now we can get to the Important Topic of Tali.

Tali found the Guest Parlor too small.  Because I have a Very Weird House, I was able, after yesterday’s breakfast, to close off the hallway in which the Guest Parlor is located, closing the door to Steve’s office at one end, and the rest of the house, at the other end.  This gave Tali the Guest Parlor, a short hallway, a cul de sac which is glorified as the Laundry Room, and a big window overlooking the Long Back Yard.  I also put Trooper in with her, thinking he could share some more pearls of feline wisdom.

This is what that looked like, when I peered in a couple hours later.

 

 

 

 

After lunch, Trooper and I traded places.  I took my laptop back to the laundry room, and sat in the chair I’d moved in from Steve’s office, and finished inputting corrections to “Core Values.”  Tali several times leapt into my lap — she gives epic head bumps — and tried her paw at editing the story.

Firefly was still being hissy, and Rook was taking his cue from her, so I visited Tali once or twice on the evening, but my intention was to leave her in Steve’s hallway until at least Thursday afternoon (I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and Ashley is coming tomorrow morning to do the cleaning).

At 5am this morning, Trooper opened the door to Steve’s hallway, and let Tali out.

I got up, turned on all the lights, and prepared myself to run interference (Tali does not like to be picked up.  She will jump in my lap, but she Does. Not. Want. me to pick her up, and I had … reservations about allowing a cat who will not allow me to pick her up roaming the house.).  Trooper, however, had appointed himself Tour Guide.  He took Tali downstairs, where the Accommodations are (she has a litter pan in the Guest Parlor, but apparently it’s not the best arrangement), he showed her the food station and the cat fountain.  He walked her right past Firefly, who was hissing, and Rook, who was likewise.

Since he had it in paw, I got dressed and put the kettle on for tea.

Tali eventually went back to her hallway.  I followed her in, closed the door, and sat down.  She jumped into my lap, and we had a cuddle while chatting out her first impressions.

I let her out again when I got back from my Annual Wellness appointment (spoiler:  I’m healthy).

I must say Tali’s being very smart about integrating herself.  She spent some time in the bedroom, and has explored the rest of the rooms once or twice, entirely unfazed by hissing sillies. She offers no aggression, nor does she hiss back; it’s merely nothing to do with her, what those cats are carrying on about.

Occasionally, she goes back to her hallway for a breather.

And that’s where we are right now.  Trooper, Firefly, and Rook are in my office with me, and Tali is exploring the living room.

 

 

Meet the New Director

The new director is on her way upcoast.  I will be meeting her in New Hampshire, and bringing her the rest of the way into the motherland, where  she’ll be joining KelimCoons Sooper Trooper, KelimCoons Firefly, and Rook Thunderpaws on the staff of the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

Who is the new director?

Her Official Name is Rickooncattery Talizea of Kennebec.  She is a red silver tabby/white Maine Coon female, born March 16, 2022.  Previously, she worked in kitten production, and is now moving up to administration.

Some of you will remember Kennebec Mozart, who ruled the Cat Farm from November 2003 until February 2015.  It happens that Mozart had a litter brother named Kennebec Wyatt Chirp of Lakeffect.  Talizea is Wyatt’s many-times great-granddaughter, and Mozart’s grand-grand-&c-niece.

One of Tali’s sons is now the main stud at Kennebec Cattery:  Supreme Grand Champion Tollance Berik Jones.

Tali is a petite cat.  Her hobbies are sitting on laps, chasing the Siamese, playing with her people, and giving cuddles.

Here is a picture of Tali, and a picture of her grand uncle Mozart:

Book planning and Big Cat update

What went before:  Yesterday, as I was staring out the window, my brain informed me that it wanted to write an epistolary Liaden novel.  I pointed out that we couldn’t do that, because we were going back to Catalinc Station and the Action! folks, who — while they can write letters — really prefer not to.

Recommencing with the staring out the window, it — finally, some will say — dawned on me that while Diviner’s Bow and Book the Next are — ahem — “unrelated” novels, there’s a character who is leaving the traders and headed for the Station. And that this character not only knows All The Players — he corresponds with them. And the Action folk do write back to him.

I don’t usually like to think about Structure this early in a project (which may be why my first drafts always end up with everything happening on Tuesday afternoon), and I can’t in fairness to the action players have a book that is only letters, but I can use the letters to frame and illuminate the action.

And that? Sounds like fun, which none of the other things I’ve been slinging at the wall, looking for a conceit that will bear a novel, have done.

Also, the letter structure may give me room to do A Thing I wanted to do and shelved, because I couldn’t figure out how to make it fit into a novel set on the Station.

All that being said, I resolved to Sleep On It, and if it seemed good in the morning, I’d go forward.

Going forward!

Friday. Grey and chilly. ‘beans are calling for a high of 36F/2C, following yesterday’s deep freeze.

Breakfast was leftover fried rice. I don’t have one clue what lunch will be.

Today’s Big Ticket To-Do List item is Trooper’s vet appointment. He’s been … off … with many many complaints, so either I’m providing really subpar service or something’s up. I worry; he’s 15, and he’s outlived both his childhood sweetheart, and their daughter.

Speaking of cats. Negotiations have taken a major step forward. I’m awaiting a call from the escort, and it could — could! — be that the new director will be with us on Monday. This will require some finagling in and around the Greater Portsmouth NH Megalopolis, and thus we await that call from the escort, with deets.

The Hybrid Epistolary Novel still sounds good to the me, so! Next step is to open a file and start writing.

That’s all I’ve got; hours spent staring out the window don’t make for a riveting narrative.

What’s your riveting narrative for the day?

Below, a “memory” offered up by the photo app on the phone.  Sprite and Steve, sharing a moment.