Tag: coon cat logic

In which the writer declares for no drama

Thursday. Grey and … well, it has snowed, somewhat …

sticks head out door

… I guess it might be said to be mizzling.

Breakfast was scrambled egg with onion and a spoonful of potato salad, because (1) I never did make hardboiled eggs and (2) the potato salad needs to be used. Lunch is prolly a tuna sandwich on homemade wheat toast, with could be a side of tomato soup. It’s kind of a tomato soup day.

Gym is hereby put off til tomorrow.

Before I forget! Land’s End is having a half-price sale, ending today. In case you, like me, need mock tnecks.

Last night, I said that I was going to be declaring today drama-free, and I’m standing by that decision. I’ll be over in the comfy chair, writing.

I hope everyone has a similarly quiet, productive, and peaceful day.

Here, have some pictures of cats being quiet and peaceful.

Saturday into Sunday

So, yesterday was all about transferring files from Moose to the new-as-yet-nameless desktop.

There were a few heartstopping moments, such as when I thought the new hire was DOA, but the ritual flapping of hands while speaking the relevant incantations produced the revelation that the new screen was the problem, and that problem was? A badly seated HDMI-1 cable.  This particular screen, whose makers apparently harbor Lofty Ideas of one’s ambition, came with two HDMI cables. Installing the second fixed the problem.

At the moment, Moose is hooked up in the living room, with the new screen, and the new hire is here at my desk with the old but still completely functional old screen.

While all those adventures were taking place, my next door neighbors came by with their snowblower and got the driveway sorted, for which I am very grateful.

Also, catching up yesterday’s events — a kind friend sent me not only a baking stone, but a pizza stone.  These join the kneading board which had been given by another friend a few weeks ago.  I am now reading to open my own bakery.  As soon as I get these cats out of here.

Yeah, right.

We’re now caught up on Saturday, and move on to —

Sunday. Cold and grey.

Breakfast was buttermilk biscuits with sausage and cheese. Lunch will be lentil soup.  Drinking my second cup of tea, and there’s a third in my near future.

I cannot tell you how much I’m hoping that the person who agreed to come and install programmable thermostats in this house actually comes and does that. It will be a marvelous thing to arise from my rosy bower to a house that’s warm and not have to shiver for an hour while temps achieve life-sustaining levels.

Last nigh, I realized that, of all the Stuff I did remember to back up for the new computer, I failed to download my Libreoffice user dictionaries, which, at this point in one’s writing career are extensive. So, that’s today’s Big Goal.

Other than that, I have a scene, and what’s probably a short story knocking around in my head, so I may try to sit quietly at a keyboard and see if one, or both, might like to have a chat.

I am reading Magpie Murders and I must say, if Alan was supposed to be a riveting writer with Christie-esque charm, it hasn’t shown up in what I’ve read so far.

Amazon pre-orders for Sea Wrack and Changewind stand at 158; Apple 10; BN 2; Kobo 9.

Here, have a picture of Firefly completing her Solo Hall Blocking Exam.

 

And the snow comes tumbling from the sky

Friday. Blue skies and cold.

Breakfast is a Kodiak bar and a cup of tea. Lunch will be lentil soup.

There’s about 2 inches of ice-topped snow on the ground. Ashley was to come today, but I told her to stay home until I find out if the new plow guy is going to join the long list of ghosts who have agreed to do stuff and then — well. Ashley reports no power at her house. I’m good, here.

We did not pursue magpies last night, as I got involved in finishing my read of Salvage Right while getting stuff into Dropbox so it can be uploaded to the new computer. I think I’ve got everything, but will be doing a review this morning, and if all is where it should be, I’ll proceed with the changeover, after which I’ll be able to start the next book. Really, the timing on computer switch-out couldn’t have been more perfect. It’s *really* nerve-wracking when you have to shift data in the midst of writing a book or another big project.

So, the new Facebook terms of service mean that I will no longer be posting snippets there. I don’t know if I’ll be leaving the platform entirely. I’m not up on text-based social gathering places that are humane. Bluesky is nice, but it’s a Twitter-replacement, and limited by intent.

Be funny if we all got busted back to blogging.

So, that’s it — the Usual Chores, continue shifting computers, sign some bookplates, make some notes, find something else to read. A quiet day.

What’s your day look like?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Gaelic Storm, “Tell Me Ma.”

Here’s Firefly, overlooking the snow.

One for Sorrow

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. The weatherbeans are adamant in their prediction of rain. We Shall See.

Trash and recycling at the curb. Did gym-like things at the gym. Car gassed up. Cat browsing stations replenished. Dishwasher emptied. Second cup of tea to hand.

Breakfast was … hours ago, actually. Um. Ah. Cottage cheese, grapes, toasted cheese bread. Lunch will be beanloaf and gravy over bread with a side salad.

Picked up yesterday’s mail today (yes, yes, but I don’t care to walk up to the street in the Stygian Darkness of 4:30pm, which is when my mail is typically delivered. I’m not expecting anything so precious that it can’t wait until tomorrow morning.) Progressive Insurance wants to sell me auto insurance, naturally, but they also want to sell me pet insurance, which — is a thought.

Those who have pet insurance — pros and cons?

ALL of the cats slept with me last night and who can blame them? It was cold.

Before that, we all watched the first episode of Magpie Murders, and enjoyed ourselves. Trooper is not impressed with Andreas, FWIW, and I’m a little uneasy, myself. I want to like him, but . . . . Firefly likes Mr. Pund, but then, she likes older men. Rook liked the magpies — family connections, I think.

I — am puzzled, but willing to continue to play. I did like the montage of the Writer at Work — very true to life, except Alan’s hand-drafts seemed much cleaner than any hand-draft has a right to be. The mysteries are interesting. I had been fearing a rewrite of Naked Once More, but we don’t seem to be going there.

Susan is — an editor. Who works for an agenting firm, and who obviously comes from money, because — that flat! And — she’s an editor. She reads client manuscripts curled up in a pretend comfy chair, and at the dining room table. In all of that flat there is no office.

Second episode penciled in for this evening.

Other than that, I have a List, and I’d better get to work.

What’s everybody doing today?

A Mischief of Magpies

Monday. Sunny and chill.

Breakfast was a tomato sandwich on toasted cheese bread and red grapes. Still drinking my first cup of tea. Lunch is — I have leftovers to choose from; no need to be hasty.

So, I didn’t get to the Magpie Murders last night; I sat down to read “a few pages” of Salvage Right — have you guys read this? It’s good. — to refresh myself before I go too far down an interesting idea-road for the next book I need to write. Maybe tonight.

Today’s chores include one’s duty to the cats, a visit to the chiropractor, the post office, and the grocery store — I ran out of milk; this never happens. And I don’t seem to have any just plain ol’ all-purpose flour, so that can’t stand, and yanno? Flowers might be nice. Haven’t had flowers in the house for a bit.

I’ll also be staging the trash in the garage for tomorrow’s journey to the curb. And, since I never got ’round to it yesterday, cleaning up my computer desktop and making backups for transfer to the new computer, when it arrives.

The weatherbeans are talking snow on Thursday, which isn’t the best timing in the world, and that event would seem to be Winter’s Clarion Call, because, after, temps are apparently going to move sharply downward, and keep sliding.

. . .and that’s about all I’ve got to say for myself this morning. The cats are trying out the various sunspots, and Trooper is explaining . . . something to me. Probably the cure for cancer. When are we getting that translation program?

Everybody have a good day.

Here, have some music.  “The Thieving Magpie Overture,” Rossini, Utah Youth Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Barbara Scowcroft

Now in Ring One: Rookie the Cookie vs Firefly the Fireball

All righty, then. Sunday! Cloudy with occasional sun, breezy, and cool.

Up at 6:15, thanks to Cat Rasslin’ on the bed. I complained to the contestants and evicted them, but by the time all that was done, I really wanted a cup of tea. Management has since informed me that the bout had been scheduled and that I should read the newsletter.

Breakfast was toasted cheese bread and grapes, because that counts as breakfast. Lunch will be (some of) the lopsided bean loaf in tomato sauce, with a side salad.

First load of laundry on the day is drying, second washing.

I am remiss in reporting that Sea Wrack and Changewind: All of the Archers Beach stories, has broken 100 preorders, and in fact rejoices in 121! The ebook will publish on December 17. I’ll be laying out the paper editions this week. More news on that as there’s news to report.

It has been Revealed to me that the reason Lee-and-Miller could get so much stuff done is because it was Lee-and-Miller. Even as we lamented the damage and inevitable slowing down caused by chronic exposure to time, it’s still true that two were quicker than one. That Revelation having been received and swallowed, I (re)joined the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance, and now I need to investigate the benefits of that membership, which is said to include help in promotion.

Chores on the day include flattening boxes — always cathartic — cleaning up the computer desktop which has gotten, um, really out of hand, and making back-ups to transfer to the new computer when it arrives. Also, I need to somehow get the Samsung TV to admit that PBS Passport exists. Thank ghu for the Sheer Amount of Technology in this house — I have located one of several bluetooth keyboards, which I hope will be useful in opening communication.

And I think that will do for the morning report. The cats are variously deployed, and Rook (Rasslin’ Name: Rookie the Cookie) is, grumpily, wearing his harness.