The music’s callin’

What went before: Coon Cat Happy Hour arrives just as I’m finishing up the new Chapter-by-Chapter. Tomorrow, I’ve got some planning, and some writing to do.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

#

Cookie break!

Sunday. Sunny and warm.

Breakfast was — what was breakfast? Ah! I know — banana and grape “fruit salad” whole grain toast with cream cheese. Lunch will be a sweet potato in one form or another. I’m favoring stir-fried with onion and garlic at the moment, and maybe the chicken I have left over.

I finished filling out the attendees form for the book fair, and was rewarded with a page offering up an email address, in case I had questions, which of course I had questions, so I wrote. And received a lightning response. I am relieved to learn that there will be strong young persons standing by at the site to help schlepp. Also, I may be accepted by the event’s official retailer to be one of those present for whom they will graciously do the arithmetic, make the change, run the cards, and so forth. So I may not need to get a Stripe/Square. OTOH, p’rhaps I should. For Science. Or something. Oh. For Preparedness. Often more to the point than Science.

So, bottom line: It looks like the book fair is a Go, and now I need to bug poor Jason at Baen for table toppers, and post cards and … stuff.

In cat news, I brought Firefly with me into the bedroom last night, and she tried to sleep on my ankles, but eventually retired to the top of the dresser, which — at least she bore me company. Tali and Rook both checked in during the night, and I think Tali actually spent, like, twenty minutes up against my knee before Duty, or crunchies, Called.

Somewhat surprisingly, it’s Tali who’s decided that she can take on copilot duties.

I have a couple more letters to write, then lunch, then it’s time to write. I get to write a Fun! Scene! as a reward for having finished the Chapter-by-Chapter yesterday.

Oh! My birthday present to my self was a purple earring keeper, which is sparkly and very nice, but it needed something. Turns out the something it needed was Minerva. Thanks BaltiCon!

How’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title is from Steve Miller, “Swingtown

I bet you say that to all the boys

What went before: Tools down for the day. The WIP currently weighs in at +/-72,300 words. Today is one of those days where I’m starting to panic because I have too much story to fit in the space that’s left. Tomorrow, I’ll be despondent because I’ll have too little story to fit the space that’s left.

Don’t mind me.

I had originally kinda sorta intended to go to Belfast tomorrow to visit the Saturday Farmer/Makers Market, but I’m feeling a tad oppressed by All The Things, so, instead of going out, I’ll stay in and, er, Cope. And, after all, next Friday I get to drive to Bath, so that’ll be a nice outing. Sigh.

I have been accepted as — I dunno. An author? A vendor? An author-vendor? at the Bangor Authors’ Book Fair and Literary Festival in December, which has brought on a wave of What Were You Thinking, and wondering if I ought to bow out now and let somebody else have my space, but! There are All Those Books in the Basement that have got to be gotten rid of somehow. Problem being I’d need to load in (hardcover) books, load out (hardcover) books, woman the table, take payment, make change . . . and I keep forgetting that I’m 73 and have a bad back, and no longer a mere child of 48, with a partner to share the lifting. And it’s not like I’ll sell more than six books, tops, because — science fiction that’s not Star Wars, and has Netflix made a movie?

So! I’ll sleep on that, I guess.

Firefly’s style of gathering the crew together for Happy Hour is very low key. She kind of mooches in around 5, checks to see am I busy, offers a few brush-bys and takes up a position on the supply chest or the observation table. The other two wander in over the next few minutes, check in with me and take their stations. I’m not alone, here, and I can feel their presence, but nobody’s yelling.

So, anyhow, tools down. I’ll get the kids Happy Hour’d, pour myself a glass of wine and come back to the desk for half-an-hour to get the bill-paying queued up.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

* * *

“Will he offer me his hunger? And will he starve without me?”
Counsel for separating the artist from the art rests.

Saturday. Grey and cool. Went to bed early, slept badly, got up early. All of which seems very unfair, but here we are. I feel that I would sleep better if any of the current clowder would sleep with me, but they’re still processing their own loss, and without Trooper to gather everybody up and head for the bedroom, they sort of settle near each other and dream together.

Breakfast was two eggs, scrambled with onion, cheese, chicken; toast and sour cherry jam. Dinner will be left over noodles.

Having studied on this for six months, I am offering the quasi-expert opinion that the Second Year is Worse. Not that last year was a picnic, but systems that had been in place were still working. This year, I’m seeing the creep of entropy. Systems need care, after all, and there are So. Many. tiny subroutines to tend to. It really did take two of us to run this joint. Moreso because our real lives and our creative lives were so closely braided.

I had used to think that our System for Writing, for instance, in which we talked out ideas, ramifications, tried out bits of dialog, went for long rides, saying nothing, until one of us said, “But, What IF…” — I used to think that was pretty inefficient. Fun, but inefficient.

The present system, where I have to write everything as a Try Out, and then manually sort it through the filter of the Intended Result? Not only sucks, but takes more time. Our chaotic little subsystem was actually a dream of efficiency.

Well. Live and learn.

So, today! Today, we change out cat boxes, and do laundry, and catch up the Chapter-by-Chapter, and — write.

The unsettled night did produce a couple of ideas which might allow me to do the December book fair without loss of life, so I’ll be writing some emails today.

Regarding this ^^ — I have a handtruck. It’s swell, and I know how to use it. Steve and I used to have tables at cons, as SRM Publisher. I have packed books in and packed books out, made change and all the rest of it. This is how I know how much work it is. Summing up: I do not (NOT) need a handtruck. Thank you for your attention to this detail.

Firefly and Rook are playing tag. This is good. Firefly is harder for Rook to catch than Tali, not because Firefly is faster (objectively, Tali is probably fastest), but because Firefly cheats, vanishes into doorways and waits for Rook to speed by, then darts off in the other direction, trailing nah-nah-nahs like red balloons.

And I think that’s all I’ve got this morning, if I want to get the rest of the to-do done.

What’s everybody doing today?

This morning’s blog post title brought to you by Meatloaf and Ellen Foley, “You took the words right out of mouth

Egg rolls and embroidery

Wow. Thanks to everyone who sent birthday greetings. I can’t possibly answer each of you individually. Your wishes mean a great deal.

I had a pleasant, low-key kind of a day. In the morning, I sat in the comfy chair in my office in the sun and finished my embroidery project. I caught up with the character who refused to tell me her name and learned quite a lot about her, which of course meant that I had to rewrite a couple more scenes, but that’s OK! This is still the working draft; nothing is written in stone. Or even indelible ink.

I had stir-fried noodles and chicken, with egg rolls for lunch. I still have noodles left over, so that’s good.

The cats have been hanging with each other a lot today, largely congregating in Steve’s office. I’m assuming they’re doing some group work, and I let them have at it. Rook came by a couple times to check in, and Firefly and I did have a long chat about how being Boss Cat doesn’t mean she has to go it alone. I don’t know all the stuff that Trooper knew, because how could I? But I do know some stuff and have a lot of experience, so she’s not completely without backup. She seemed to feel better after our talk.

Tomorrow morning, I have a flu shot scheduled. By chance the pharmacy is in the grocery store, so I’ll be doing some shopping while I’m there. Then, I hope to come home and write some more.

Below are a few pics from the day, including the finished embroidery project.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll check in at some point tomorrow.

Cats and Steve; Snippet and Photos

SNIPPET: “Another good point,” Miri said. “You won’t get much singing out of Delm Korval. A right stuck-in-the-slush, like we say on my homeworld.”

Jen Sin sneezed.

Miri looked at him, head tilted. “Ain’t sickening, are you, Cousin?”

#

What went before ONE:  Rook had been … puzzled, I felt, but taking his lead from Firefly.

Until I just now came home without Trooper, and there was no big brown cat waiting for me to open the door so he could Report, dammit!

We both just had a (damp on my part) cuddle.

No, kid, this is not the way things were.

What went before TWO: And that’s it for today. My brain just went “splotz.” One thousand one hundred seventeen new words written. Cookies need to be put away, windows need to be closed, and Coon Cat Happy Hour needs to be served up.

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

Saturday, damp and dim. Going to be warmer than the last couple of days, say the ‘beans, and won’t that be a treat.

Slept for dern near 10 hours, straight through, and feel much more the thing this morning. I may even go to the opening of the after-hours vet studio.

Drinking my first cup of tea here at the keyboard. Breakfast will be a salad, on account I have salad stuff to use up.

Junior staff is actively looking for Trooper this morning. Rook registered a Formal Complaint, asserting that his contract specified a grandpa on-site. In fact, his contract lists the cats on-site when he arrived, notes that cats are known for moving on, and staff may change for a variety of reasons, list appended, but not inclusive. I pointed this out to him; he’s now talking it over with Tali.

In Steve’s office, among many other pictures, there are three of Steve, in a kind of a corner grouping. I will post the pictures below. One is of Steve before I knew him, holding a copy of a magazine he edited in college. One is of Steve a few months before I met him, taken by his lady friend at the time. The last is of Steve a few years ago, taken by his long-time partner.

Now, Steve had been married previously, to his high-school sweetheart. I have met her, not to say that I know her; she’s a smart, skilled, and interesting woman; well-traveled, and articulate. You’d like her. I do.

What I don’t like, particularly, is the young man with the magazine. Every time I look at that picture, which, given its location, is daily, I think, “Boy, am I glad you aren’t the Steve I met. It would have never worked.”

This is of course the Steve his sweetheart knew, married, and eventually left. And I confess that I’ve been guilty in the past of wondering how she could have left him. Murdered him, yeah; I’d’ve totally gotten that. But left him? When he was so smart, so creative, so ambitious, affectionate and protective; who had determination, and plans, and presence, and — who leaves that?

This morning as I sighed at the young man with the magazine and told the old guy leaning against the sign that I missed him — it finally and just now occurred to me that the things I saw as features were to his ex-wife bugs. It takes a lot of energy to keep up with all that … chaos, and a certain amount of adamantine in the nervous system to (sometimes) stand against quite so much willfulness, and quite so many plans. I didn’t always make a stand when I perhaps should have done. And — fair is fair — I sometimes got my way, when, perhaps, I shouldn’t have done.

So, my tea is gone, and I still need to put together my salad. Thank you all for listening to that.

What revelation(s) have you had recently?

Friday morning, with rain

Friday. Rainy and sticky.

Did not sleep well. What a surprise. The kids have twigged to the change of order, or at least the absence of the rock that was Grandpa. I’ve been Queried several times, starting with Tali pointing out to me that the prime spot tucked up against my right side in the bed that Trooper reserved for himself and no other was . . . empty. She was nervous, and licked her nose several times, but she did make the report.

I’m informed by Second in Command Firefly that the next step is a call to the Northeast Committee Cat, which will of course come to naught. I filled out The Form at the vet’s yesterday, and they do an upload to NEFU Headquarters every night. I understand that Firefly needs to make sure The Protocols are followed exactly, and I’m impressed that she’s taking resolute action.

To those who are concerned — Yes, Trooper is being cremated as himself and will some time next week come home in a cedar box that will seem much too small, to take his place on the shelf next to Scrabble, and Belle, and Sprite, and Steve.

In other news, breakfast was PB&J onna whole wheat English muffin. Lunch will probably be something I pick up at the store.

Sarah is due in to clean in a couple minutes, and I? Need to straighten up my desk and find my WIP notes from the other day. I may have a title. May. I’m not crazy about it, but it does fit. I’ve made a note and will check back in a week or two to see if it’s grown on me.

How’s everybody doing today?

Picture of Trooper from October 18, 2016. I wasn’t feeling well and had retired to the couch, to color. This is Trooper telling me that I’ve colored enough and needed to take a nap.

Second Sunday; First of September

Second Sunday. Sunny and warm.

Trooper making the day more difficult than it strictly needs to be by screaming for food and then not eating. I suspect his tooth is hurting him again, but there’s nothing I can do about that today, and I’m not sure how many shots of antibiotic he’s good for.

Last night, I was restless, so I sorted through some of the sdcards from Steve’s stash, and found an entire card that’s the car camera videos of us taking a drive on April 22 2023. The camera is set up to look out the back window and into the cockpit, so I have about 30 minutes of little 2 minute clips of Steve and me talking to each other as he drives us through Winslow and out to Fairfield. Talk about your mixed blessings…

Today, I got to working on the 2025 chapbook, because I actually came up with a title, that being CIVILIZED BEHAVIOR: Adventures in the Liaden Universe(R) No. 36. I may have found a cover — I have two mocked up and trying to decide if I like the blue-on-blue abstract, or the two little kids sitting together on a swing, staring at the moon in the clouds while birds fly all around.

For those who may be curious, this chapbook largely deals with the Matter of Colemeno, two stories and an outtake from Ribbon Dance. Also, the text of my speech at Balticon, accepting the Heinlein Award. I’ll have to check, but I may now have enough stories to make a sixth Constellation.

I have a bunch of corrections to make in the chapbook manuscript, but first! Second Sunday dinner, which will be a chicken burger onna roll with cheese, some baked beans and macaroni salad. A picnic, hey?

How’s everybody doing today?

#

Well. In regard to Constellation Six, it looks like I have 98,617 words of short story. If I throw in the Heinlein speech, I’ve got 99,413.

Guess I’ll talk to Madame the Agent…

#

Yeah, it’s the kids on the swing.

#

So I finally just got a pack of chains, because the monofilament wasn’t making me happy, and that was before it degraded in the sun.

Ornament, blown glass, made in the Corning Glass Studio, by Sharon Lee.

First Sunday Report

First Sunday of the weekend. Sunny, going to be warmer than yesterday, but not hot.

Trooper wants me to do something, but I haven’t discovered what it is, yet. In the meantime, he’s had his meds, and two goes at breakfast, but it’s apparently not the right breakfast. If he wants pancakes, he’s outta luck. Steve was the pancake person; I’d eat them to keep him company, but making pancakes for myself just isn’t a thing.

In the meantime, my breakfast this morning was Swiss cheese on an English muffin, because we are a Global Village, black grapes, and a handful of mixed nuts. Lunch? Could be anything. By which I mean a salad, because I’m already feeling too lazy to bother.

Firefly is sleeping off yesterday’s festivities in the box on my desk, which happens at the moment to be sun-soaked. Tali is on top of the dresser. Trooper has found a sunspot on the rug and is drowsing, rather than yelling at me, which is a relief, actually, and Rookie is on the rug in the foyer, underneath the open window.

Aside cat box duty and a smol walk, today will be about the WIP, and looking ahead at what needs to get done IRL next week.

What’s your First Sunday of the Weekend look like?

Two tries at taking a good picture of the earrings and moon (the little necklace is a tree-and-dragon)

Firefly’s Fifth Birthday with Rock Show side

Saturday

Opening Ceremonies for Firefly’s fifth birthday consisted of me, and my trusty meter stick, retrieving five springs from beneath the bed!

The Birthday Cat assisted by trying to wrestle the meter stick out of my hands while retrievals were underway.

It was very exciting. So exciting that Birthday Cat and spectators are now having a wee dram of cat food to recruit their strength.

Birthday Cat demonstrating singleton hall blocking technique.

So the rock show is a roaring success and I hope the vendors have a profitable weekend. When I arrived at the site, a little after 10:30 (show opened at 10), the lower parking lot was already full, so I parked up top, which was, eh, about a third full.

The room was very crowded, and I had a good time talking rocks, asking questions, getting confusing answers, and all such things that we do at shows of this nature. In fact, it was a lot of fun right up until the point when I should’ve met up with Steve at our prearranged point, so I could show him all the Very Cool Things I’d seen, and he could ditto, which I guess is never going to stop being A Thing.

I will say that things have gotten much more expensive than the last time I was at that rock show, which will have been a year or two before Steve died.

I did manage to buy a pair of hammered silver earrings, which I guess now that I have holes in my ears again, with be A Thing, and some tiger eye marbles and a piece of rutilated quart, because of course I did.

At this show people were differentiating their rutilated quartz — this piece had tourmaline inclusions, this had gold — which was instructive. There’s also a new way of cutting and polishing fragments of geodes, so that the rock the crystals live in is smooth and shaped to be a kind of holder, like an art piece. Very pretty. No, I did not buy one.

I am … very tired, despite having slept a long time last night, with the window open so I could hear the rain. I’m cooking macaroni and steaming some frozen peas, and that’s looking like lunch. Then I’ll see what else is on the schedule.

Here’s a picture of the astronomically correct moon necklace Steve gave me for my 60th birthday, and the earrings I bought today. I think they’ll make a nice set. Note: the earrings are silver. The gold glow is light from the windows.

 

You really know how to dance

What went before ONE: All righty, then.

Agway run completed. I did not buy plants. Yay, me. I did buy monofilament string — aka fishing line — so I can hang the ball I made at Corning in a sunny window where it belongs, instead of skulking on my bookshelf.

Hit the Hannaford, picked up my prescriptions, bought Fancy Feast Gravy Lover’s Pate, which is the preferred of the moment. Took the returnables to the redemption center. Caused consternation. Gassed up the car, so I don’t have to do it on Saturday. Apparently the Rusty Lantern/Irving at Webb Road isn’t supplying a means for its customers to clean off their windshields anymore, so I’ll be looking for a new gas station. Shame; that one’s really convenient.

What else? Oh, performed one’s duty to the cats, and took a walk.

It is now what time? Yes? Yes, you, right there in front. Ex — yes, say again, please for the guy in the back row who’s asleep?

It’s lunch time!

And then? It’s time to go to work.

poof

What went before TWO: I remember coming in to Albany more than a decade ago from an exceptionally long and fraught train trip which involved the train actually running out of food (long story; bad trip; it was years ago, and man did I learn to hate CSX), and Steve pulled us into the Cracker Barrel because we needed something to eat. I remember looking at the menu, then looking at Steve and saying, “There’s no food here.” “There’s chicken soup,” he said. “We’ll both have chicken soup, then we can go get some real food.” This was the first and only time I was in a Cracker Barrel.

Ah, memories…

Patched up what I wrote yesterday and put it in its rightful place within the WIP, which now weighs just about 65,420 words. Tomorrow, I need to sit down and plot out the next section, even though my brain wants to write the cool! action! scene! over there. I’ve gotta figure out how they got there, first, Brain. Gimme a break, hey?

Anyhow, knocking off early tonight to, yanno, hang away my clothes, write a couple of checks, and see if I can brainstorm not one, but two! titles. Brainstorms are considerably less fun with only one brain, in case that was a question anybody had.

So! Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Cloudy and cool. Thunderstorms are on the menu.

Last night at bedtime, I made it a point to find Rookie, who often spends the night on the box on Steve’s desk, and carry him with me to the bed, thinking that I would once again introduce this as an option. I put him down, and he lay exactly where and how I’d put him until I’d gotten under the covers, turned out the light, settled on my pillow and drifted off. When I drifted out, about two hours later, he had relocated to my other side, tunneled between my arm and my side, and was snoring. Also, Tali had taken over the prized spot on my ankle. I went back to sleep and woke up at 7, much refreshed.

Today cutting off cat toes is on my menu, and I managed to grab Rook as he was terrorizing his sister. I put him on my lap and began to clip his claws and he was So Good. He made no complaint, or any attempt to play Disappearing Leg, and started to purr when I flipped him over on is back to amputate his back toes. When we were finished, he just — stayed, purring his silly, puffy purr, until Tali walked by and then of course he had to jump down to see what she was doing.

I have finished my first cup of tea. Trooper has had a can of Fancy Feast. Breakfast will be something to do with the peach I bought yesterday, and when I took the stoopid sticky tag off, the skin tore. Lunch will be … something.

Towels are in the washer. In addition to the cutting of cat toes, the to-do list includes one’s duty to the cats, a walk, and plotting.

What’s on your to-do list for Friday?

Today’s blog post brought to you by The Romantics, “What I like about you

Below, a picture of one of the Agway store cats, and a picture of Tali, who is apparently taking a covert ops course from the Rivers of London foxes.

Maintaining Time

What went before ONE: So, that was unexpected. I noticed that the clock in Steve’s office had stopped, which–not unexpected; I probably hung it back there about a year ago, and it was likely time for a new battery, so I brought it with me out to the tech room,flipped it over and–

The battery had exploded inside the clock. Crystalized acid gluing it to the holder. So, now I need a new clock, and also some idea of why the battery exploded. But, definitely a new clock.

Monday, hey?

What went before TWO: Clock update.

So, I decided to try to rehabilitate the clock–for Science! And many thanks to Edward Green and Jeff Needham for the tip about using white vinegar, and Mary Carol for the emery board hack.

For those interested, the clock in question is a LaCrosse Technologies Atomic Time clock.

It turns out that I was at fault. As I was cleaning and refitting, I noticed something printed on the back of the clock in, like 8-pt black-on-black which says “Replace battery every nine months to prevent leakage.”

I don’t remember exactly when I bought that clock — at Reny’s, but I don’t remember which one. Maybe Belfast. Probably Belfast. Anyhoots, it will have been before August, so I missed my nine month change-out. Which this clock obviously takes Very Seriously.

The clock is running at this time. I’ve hung it back in Steve’s office, and made a note to replace the batteries in May.

…and back to work I go.

What went before THREE: Two thousand thirty four-ish new words written.

Time to find something to eat and maybe a glass of wine.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Let’s see…

Tuesday. Sunny and cool. Woke up at 5:30, but instead of getting up, I turned over and went back to sleep until 7. I would’ve slept longer, but the window was open and there were guys outside of it somewhere, having a Discussion over a background of I’m-backing-uuupp truck beeps. They’re gone now, of course; looks like they were just coming together across the street so they could move to the real job site as a unit.

Trash and recycling still need to get out to the curb, but I’ve got time, and in my own defense, I did eat breakfast and start the dishwasher.

Trooper is chowing down his second can of gooshy food. I don’t know what worked, there at the vet’s, but something sure did.

My breakfast was the last of the tuna fish on a toasted bialy, with black grapes. I’ll have my second cup of tea after I get the trash situated. Lunch will be the rest of yesterday’s soup and a side salad.

Today’s to-do includes one’s duty to the cats, taking a smol walk, getting with what I wrote yesterday, and writing some more before I head out for needlework this evening. I’m going to have to stop at the grocery. I’m almost out of gooshy food.

I’m also going to have to figure out how to mix things up around here, so every day isn’t the same as every other day. *That’s* dangerous ground. I was mixing it up by going to gym three days a week, but I’m leery of gym nowadays because my back seems to go into revolt over nothing at all lately.

Well.

It rained overnight, but we could use more. Even lots more.

What’s happening with you this morning?

Addendum:

My watch reports that I had a High Stress Period from 8:34 until, err, now. I’m counseled to rest. How strange.

So! The rescued clock is still keeping the correct time back in Steve’s office. I’m taking that as circumstantial evidence that the new battery hasn’t leaked. Yet, she added darkly.

Also, the new meds upset my stomach slightly, and I couldn’t find candied ginger in the local store, which was a bummer. But, I did find, in Reny’s of course, a jar of Chiver’s Ginger Preserves, which is Sugar, Water, Ginger. I’ve been taking a spoonful of that in the morning, and it seems to be doing the job, and it tastes good, so — win.

Has anyone else local heard that Uncle Dean’s Natural Market is going to be taking over the Save-a-Lot space in the Concourse?

Also! What’s going on with hotels canceling cons six hours after everybody’s set up and running? Have contracts not been written?

For those keeping score: Trash and recycling are at the curb, and I’m drinking my second mug of tea. There may be a third mug of tea, because I’m feeling Just That Crazy.

Now to read what I wrote yesterday…

Rook pics from yesterday, when he was trying to talk me out of my yogurt.  He did not succeed.