Tag: coon cat logic

Saturday on the run

Saturday. Raining.

It’s been a scrambling sort of a morning. I got a call from Rookie’s vet last night at just about their closing time. She wanted to tell me that Rookie has roundworms. (I thought this was a kitten thing, but apparently roundworms can stay dormant inside a cat for a long time. Who knew?)

Anyhoots, the vet was putting up some Magic Dust that I am to give to all three of the cats in their Happy Hour treats, starting Monday. This discovery means, among other things, that I’ll need to disinfect the existing litter boxes, and the best way for me and my back to accomplish this is just to change to new litter boxes, then clean the old ones thoroughly at my leisure, while they are locked away in the Goblin Room where No Cat May Come.

This meant that this morning I went to Chewy, as the path of least resistance (I only need one new litter box, as it happens; I have two that I can disinfect and make ready today), but Chewy can’t expedite, and — long story short, I’m hoping Fish Tails in town can accommodate me with an XL litter pan, and I’ll give them a call when they open at 10.

Also, it came forcefully to my attention last night that I really can’t read paper books anymore, so I need a page magnifier, which means? More shopping! Honestly, getting old is for the birds.

So, now having finished my shopping and my breakfast, I’m going to finally start my writing day.

How’s Saturday treating you — yes, you! — so far?
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I found a third, though smaller, “extra” litter pan, which I swapped out with one now in use, disinfected it with the other two “extra” XL litter pans, and so! All is in readiness for the Great Litter Pan Swap-Out, as soon as the first dose of the meds is administered.

I am at this point Completely Discombobulated, and have made the Executive Decision to Declare an Emergency Writer’s Day Off. I will be showering, eating lunch, and then going to see the 4:30 show of Hadestown.

Because I can.

. . . It comes to me that my current Smol Disagreement with the WIP is that I Wanna Know How It Ends, and guys in the basement aren’t forking over. Which, let it be said, they never do. Possibly, I’m a Tad Anxious because this is Steve’s Book, and I don’t wanna screw it up. OTOH, and in all fairness, we are presently on this road because Steve didn’t know how it ended, either.

Be a writer, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

Lookin’ to the weekend

Friday. We here in Central Maine reside under a Heat Advisory until 8pm. Tomorrow, thunderstorms are forecast and may bring some relief.

Sarah came by this morning and cleaned the house, and there was much rejoicing.

The last couple days, I’ve been sitting with the WIP, sharpening this and that, and doing some research (beta readers will recall the uppercase HERE’S and/or IS THIS RIGHT?), so, only about 900 new words so far, but I intend to go back to it this afternoon, now that All The PT homework, one’s duty the cats, and lunch is accomplished.

I seem to be Unsupervised until Tuesday, which means I not only have a Big Chunk of time to write, but also to read. In Between It All, I’ve barely cracked the bookclub book, and I really need to get to that. I did read it before, but it’s been 10 years or so, and I’m particularly interested in seeing how it holds up. I was riveted the first time I read it.

Speaking of reading, last night I finished reading Diviner’s Bow, which brings me to the end of the Liaden Universe® novels. On the whole? I’m impressed, and while it’s not by any means Perfect, it’s pretty damned good, and I will be proud to say so to anyone.

We did tend to err on the side of thinking people are basically honorable, and we’re attached to the ideas of equality for everyone, as well as this notion that love is neither cheesy, nor a bug, but a Feature that encourages people to rise to, and maintain, their best selves.

Well. What can I say? It’s fiction.

I think that’s all I’ve got. Oh. I need to decide if I’m actually going to go see Hadestown again. I’m inclined, and if I’m going to, I need to buy a ticket, so I’m committed.

And that is all I’ve got.

What’re your plans for the weekend?

From Facebook:

Rookie, August 5 2024

Rookie, August 5 2026

Wednesday doin’s

Wednesday. Hot and sunny.

Much has happened already.

The lawn guy was here at the crack o’breakfast. Rookie the Cookie has been to see his vet for his annual exam, and a three-year rabies shot. I have, with only a moderate expenditure of swear words, managed to install the two “safety hook and eyes” I purchased yesterday at the hardware store. Nails…

Nails are unexpectedly difficult. I shall need to take advice.

After Installation, I had a cup of tea and a cookie and just now as I was cleaning up the tea station, I dropped and broke the tiny ceramic saucer that acted as a used tea bag holder, because of course I did. Argh.

I still need to make some tuna salad, so it can be part of the luncheon salad, and I need to tidy up a bit, because the home health nurse is arriving “this afternoon” to make sure that I still know how to draw a clock face.

Rookie is pronounced by his vet to be perfectly gorgeous and in good health. He has apparently decided to hold at 13.2 pounds for the moment, though we all agree that his paws — Labrador paws, says the vet — might still predict a growth spurt. He is only two years old, and Maine coons aren’t officially Grown Up until they’re five.

I went to PT yesterday about my balance. Not that I’m falling, but I’m catching myself catching myself, if that makes any kind of sense. The evaluation was … fascinating. Indeed, I do have an imbalance. When I close my eyes with my feet together and try to Just. Stand. There? I sway to the right. Also, my hips and ankles could stand to be stronger. I have exercises, of course, and a promise that I will be taught to fall. This will be a great boon, because, historically, my reactions have been too fast (which was also proven yesterday), and my objective is always to not fall. Which usually results in more damage than if I had just let gravity have its way with me.

I am, so I’m told, in really good shape for an Old. My walk is brisk and firm, my overall balance, as long as I don’t have to close my eyes, is really good, and, absent the need for work in hips and ankles, reasonably strong. I’m not sure what to make of all this excitement about my general “good” shape. Steve and I used to walk for hours, miles and miles; and I walked All Over Baltimore City. I’m nowhere near in that state of lean meanness. OTOH, I suppose one must account 26 against 73.

I’m expecting I won’t be doing much, if any writing today, what with the uncertainty regarding the arrival of the nurse.

So! I’d better be about making some tuna salad.

What’s for lunch at your place?
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And! The visiting nurse arrived while I was just finishing the tuna, so that’s done, and now I can move on to lunch and maybe getting with planning my course.

Sleepy Wednesday

Earlier this same day: So, that’s 1,300 new words, for a total of +/-33,630 words.

Breaking now to rustle up something to eat — apparently breakfast was a little lighter than it should’ve been — and then to the sell copy for Kin Right, which I at least found my conceit last night. Also, I need to fill out the paperwork for Friday’s nature cruise, and perform Other Needed Household Chores.

The day is damp and dim and not really very pleasant. Tali and Rook assisted my efforts on behalf of the WIP, while Firefly napped on the cellar stairs. I don’t fit on the cellar stairs, but I gotta tell you, a nap is really tempting.

That’s all I’ve got, I fear.

How’s the weather where you are?
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Sell copy sent on. Heat pump filters removed, vacuumed, and re-installed, release form filled in and directions to the boat reviewed. I did have a brief nap in the bed, and Firefly was gracious enough to leave her step to join me. Duty to the cats accomplished.

Coming up on Coon Cat Happy Hour and so, also, my evening meal. I feel — I really do feel very strongly — that I’ll be hitting the bed early tonight.

Ah. A note from the Captain/Maine Guide who will be conducting Friday’s educational cruise. It may be that rain will require a postponement. Rain date is the following Friday afternoon. Definitive information to arrive tomorrow evening.

Well.

I hope everybody has a good evening. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Monday Update

Proof of Life. Writing this morning, movie this afternoon. Movie is Hadestown.


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So that’s 1,085ish new words for a WIP total of 31,220ish.

Someone asked the other day if Trade Lanes had “ever been written.” I’m writing it now.

Now to do my duty the cats, call for a haircut, catch-up the blogs, and see about a pre-movie snack.
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Came around the corner to find that Rookie has made an art installation.

Catching up Sunday

Sunday.

So I figured I was hale enough to do the shopping, which I was. I bought two different kinds of protein shake (so I can perform a taste-test), along with other needed supplies, along with Sanpelligrino Lime, and so-called ginger ale. Didn’t ginger ale used to Actually Have ginger in it, rather than “ginger flavoring”?

Though I was fit enough to get the shopping done, I am now, I suppose predictably, exhausted. Had some pudding after I got everything put away, and listened to a couple chapters of Salvage Right, which — writing a character with PTSD isn’t easy, but I think we did a credible job. Also? I do so love Seignur Veeoni.

In a couple, I’ll start the oven to heat lunch, and then I think I’ll concentrate on bookkeeping and mundane desk work, and correspondence.

The cats think I should take a nap, and they may be right, but, if that’s found to be the case, it will be after lunch, not instead of lunch.

How’s everybody doing?

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I see I forgot to update yesterday.  Herewith, the cold news from Saturday:

A break for PT homework and to throw a load of towels into the washer.

This morning, I have been in the comfy chair in my office, Sitting With The Big Ideas. I have Notes. I have an inclination toward More Notes, so I’ll head back to the comfy chair after I finish this note and collect a cookie as my reward for doing my homework.

I’m working with notes that go back to 2022, at least, trying to identify recurring themes. I wish to honor Steve’s vision for what were his character and story, far more than it was mine. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

I had early cat assistance, but just before I broke for homework, Tali and Rook decided that I was well in hand, and took themselves off to Steve’s office to recharge. I know they’re recharging because they’re curled up in the plentiful sunspots.

On the health front, I have this morning decided not to take naproxen, which is really not something you want to be taking all the time, even given anti-nausea meds. So far, I’m maintaining at a whisker over ignorable levels, so that’s Good. Naproxen does have a long half-life, so I’m guessing any increased discomfort will start showing up this evening.

Interestingly, for values thereof, while I can concentrate on the WIP, and am doing good, sharp work there, for anything else, it’s an extremely fuzzy day in the neighborhood. I hate feeling stupid, OTOH, pay copy is being written and/or plotted, so — onward.

Looking at next week — The 1:45 showing of Hadestown on Monday, needlework, and on Friday, which would have been Steve’s 76th birthday, a morning nature cruise on the Messalonskee, if it doesn’t rain. Maybe, if I can keep to current levels, I’ll actually be able to get my hair cut by a professional some day next week, and before I take a pair of kitchen shears to it.

How’s Saturday treating you?

Saturday’s editor:

And if that diamond ring turns brass…

Well, that didn’t go exactly as planned. I of course did my duty the cats, took a smol, ungraceful walk, and ate lunch, but! When I reclined on the sofa, cocooned in the the second electric throw, pad and pen to hand, the fluffy warmth felt soooooo good that — I fell asleep. Awoke sometime later with a coon cat lounging down one hip and leg, a coon cat tucked against my chest, and a coon cat with her head on my head. Apparently we all needed a nap.

Got up and made pudding. Pudding is a good idea, go me. Washed such pots ‘n pans as there were, served up Happy Hour, and will in the sweet bye-n-bye return to the couch and — make a grocery list. I will tomorrow decide how that list will be accomplished, but a list is the first order of business.

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

Today’s blog post title comes courtesy of Nathan W. Pyle’s Strange Planet.  Link, which may or may not work.

For those who may not know the reference, another link

Prince Siegfried and the Black Swan

Friday.

Watched the 2010 Swan Lake last night (aka “the Swan Lake for our times”), after I decided that the production I was offered–The Velveteen Rabbit– was taking too much of my limited store of patience. My state of mind might have come over to Swan Lake, which was … not riveting, but certainly watchable, and I did watch it. I did not at all like the man who danced Prince Siegfried, and found the Black Swan much more compelling than the milquetoast–ahem–White Swan. Still, it took my mind off my problems for a while, so that was a thing.

Had a bad night, despite the best effort of cats, and only this morning realized that I have an answer to the problem of wanting to put heat on my back during the night. I have two heated throws, one of which now joins the bed furnishings.

Got grumpy on an email list, did PT homework, ate breakfast.

Wrote +/-660 new words, bringing the WIP entire to 30,145ish words. I’m still subscribing to the Write What You Know then fill in the scenes that are left mode of writing, and this morning I did leave a space for a chapter that has to be there, but the guys in the cellar haven’t gotten me the deets yet, and went on to write a scene I didn’t know I needed, until I looked at what my fingers were typing.

The cats were Very Pleased that I decided to join them at work, and they are still in Steve’s office, taking in the air from the sliders. I’m increasingly glad that I had the French windows replaced with the Andersen sliders. Yes, they were heart-stoppingly expensive, but the entire household is made glad by their presence.

I need to do my duty to the cats, then find something to eat. After, I intend to find someplace comfortable to sit-or-lie-down and try to work out some of the WIP’s future bits. I’m really enjoying the daily writing momentum. I’d like to preserve it, if I can, and give the whole Descent into the Slough of Despond a miss this time.

It’s a good plan.

How’s your Friday shaping up?

First time

So, I’ve been seeing clips forever from the Royal Ballet Company’s production of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” and really enjoyed every one.  It occurred to me yesterday that there must be a Whole Ballet streaming Out There Somewhere, so I went looking, finally finding it on Marquee, which I was able to subscribe to through Prime, and get seven! free days.  Since “Alice” was leaving the service in 11 days, this seemed like a message from Euterpe, and I signed up.

I watched it last night, with Tali and Rook’s interested support.

Rookie’s Interested Support:

It was?  Amazing.  The very first ballet I’d ever seen.  Since I still have six days, I’m inspired to watch more.

And that?  Brings us to!

Wednesday

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail
And pour the waters of the Nile
From every golden scale.

How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spread his claws
As he welcomes little fishes in
Through gently smiling jaws.
–Lewis Carroll

Someone yesterday had said they’d never read Alice, and my wonder is, how did you manage to avoid it? And what did you make of the metaphors that, in my childhood at least were Everywhere.

I don’t think it was assigned school reading, though we were surely tasked with memorizing poems from the text. I particularly remember a poster of Alice talking with the Caterpillar, Your Viewpoint is looking over the Caterpillar’s shoulder, as he sits tall on his mushroom, hookah at his side, looking down at the girl who has grabbed onto the edges of the mushroom, trying to pull herself up — with a certain amount of success, as her shoes are slightly off the ground. I’m not sure what that poster was telling us to do, though I remember another, of the Cheshire Cat’s head and the word IMAGINE! beneath.

For my Ballet Conscious people — a question. How broad is the vernacular in the Royal Ballet’s “Alice?” I could follow it easily, but I know the story. How lost would I be, do you think, if I attempted a ballet wherein I didn‘t know the story?

. . .though, while I have this seven days of grace, I may well view “Swan Lake,” of which I’ve only seen bits. And, again, I know the story, and the music.

All that said — Frequent auditors of this space will recall that I swore off superhero movies, but last night I broke my word. That woman danced for two hours with only two intervals, which were certainly not long enough to count as “rest.” Eeep.

And now to find something to eat for breakfast.
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And in the realm of We Live in a Random Universe, the judge approving the Anthropic judgement is named Araceli Martinez-Olquin.

Back when I met Steve, he and his friend Drew had just started a business called Araceli Kari. As far as I ever knew, these were coined words meant to be easy to remember and also alien-seeming without being difficult to say. (Araceli Kari’s primary mission was to produce a newspaper — The Starswarm News — which reported from the Alterverse (fiction. Mostly.) and also featured New Science (fact). Steve roped me in to help him write classified ads from said Alterverse, which is where we found out that we could, and willingly did, collaborate.

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I wrote about 550 words, and may get back to it later.

Broke for PT homework and changing the water filter in the fridge, which has only been begging attention from the householder for the last two weeks.

Am trying to build a modified pillow fort on the couch, which may make it … less painful to watch television, and possibly even to write. Or at least be able to read. I really want to finish reading Horngard.

I do need to find something to eat, which is being annoyingly difficult to come to terms with.

I am going to buy a ticket to “Hadestown” — Monday coming. All that remains is to decide which show. If I have to stand at the back, it won’t be the first time.

And I think that’s the news — a little sparse, but some days are like that.

Hope everybody’s having a pleasant Wednesday.

Tuesday morning

I wrote new words. Eleven hundred new words, in fact, bringing the WIP entire to 27,888. So that’s a thing.

Yesterday’s visit to the walk-in clinic was both lowering and interesting. Interesting: The walk-in clinic Does Not Prescribe pain relief medication. They do prescribe muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.

The PA sent me to the hospital for an x-ray of my back, just to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently broken something since the last time my back was x-rayed. As I had not broken anything, I was given a prescription for muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.

Since one is strongly discouraged from taking T3 and muscle relaxants, I have broken into the (still in date) naproxen left over from last year (because now I have anti-nausea medication, in case naproxen turns ugly), and took the first dose this morning. The muscle relaxants are to be taken at bedtime, and I perhaps have seen a slight lessening of the pain — well. I was able to write new words today, and do all of the PT homework, instead of just the Good Parts, so, yes, muscle relaxants had an effect.

I have also unearthed a crazy little hand massager (a big plastic marble in a holder) that I’ve been running firmly over the hurtin’ bits, and also still with the lidocaine roll-on (yes, I know about lidocaine patches. Have you ever tried to put a goopy, floppy, patch on your own back? Sticks to itself. Sticks to your hands. Sticks to your clothes. To your back? Not so much. And that’s without mentioning the necessity to twist around with an aching, spasming back, trying to get the fool thing in place.)

The clinic’s diagnosis (this is the “lowering” part of the program) is bone spurs, aka “small anterior osteophytes” and “mild mid thoracic spine spondylosis,” which is age-related, degenerative arthritis, and therefore nothing to be done, save what I’ve been doing, and wait for the flare to ease up or I manage to increase my ability to ignore pain.

(Aortic atherosclerosis was also noted, as an aside. This is not New news, and aside from being separate from the reason I was at the clinic, I’m thinking it wasn’t mentioned verbally because the plaque level hasn’t reached the Magic Number yet.)

Onward.

Ellen Richmond is yesterday’s hero. She brought me to the clinic, the hospital, CVS, and picked up the prescriptions. Later in the day, Beth and Steve Symonds stopped by to replenish the cookie supply, which was much appreciated.

I now need to figure out something that looks like lunch, and whether or not I’m going to take a nap, after.

Rookie is clinging like a clingy coon kitten, which–he really is too big to curl up between my cheek and my shoulder, but he’s doing it anyway.

So, there’s my news.

What’s your news?