Tag: coon cat logic

Won’t you come out and play?

What went before ONE: Wrote 1170-ish new words, sketching in that scene. Needs work.

Spent an hour…maybe two hours with my glass project. Needs work.

Back in my office for right now. I may or may not go back to the The! Studio! today, though even if I don’t I need to remember to turn off the heaters and the humidifier.

The cats were before me when I got to Steve’s Office this morning, Rookie giving me a Look that pretty clearly stated that there would be A Note In My File for coming in late. So far as I know, they’re still in Steve’s Office. If I wanna go sit in the basement, it’s nothing to do with them.

Project to date:


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What went before TWO: Sat down in the comfy chair in my office to look out over the Long Back Yard and have a snack, and this happened:

What went before THREE: OK. As reported earlier, did some writing, did some glasswork. I also made the paper edition of Civilized Behavior, but it will not be released until November 6. I also sent the ebook files to Baen, with a request that they publish on November 13, which is the date that the ebook edition will publish at All The Other Vendors.

Everybody confused now?

Yeah, me, too.

The cats all came out to my office to sit with me and I was wranglin’ files. Pretty soon, they’ll start reminding me that it will Soon! Be! Happy! Hour, but I think I have time to get the clean dishes out of the dishwasher and put away before that Auspicious Hour strikes.

How’d everybody do today?
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Sunday. Chilly, cloudy — no, wait! Here’s the sun trying to break through.

Slept a little late this morning, but that’s OK, given the exciting week I’ve got lined up.

Rice and asparagus stir fry for breakfast. Because I Could. Leftovers for lunch.

The two bill-like pieces of mail that came in yesterday, were not in fact bills, so yay.

Yesterday also saw the delivery of another light tube/string. Once I get that up, I’ll have three rooms outfitted with LED strings — the living room, Steve’s Office, and my office. This is perhaps excessive. OTOH, the Dark is Rising.

Today’s plan is writing, glassworking, one’s duty to the cats, reading. Yeah, slacking off again. I’m thinking that I’m way overwriting this book, but — onward to (an) end, then rest, then Sumo Editing. The Writing Life.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Who else is slacking off today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Siouxsie and the Banshees, “Dear Prudence.”  (Yes, yes, written by Paul McCartney, thank you.)

Story glass

Good morning:

 

What went before ONE: The lost has been found.

I looked in the closet in Steve’s office that the cats like to bat springs under, and there were four springs — one each of red, yellow, green, and blue — and one somewhat furry wrist brace.

So! I now have a dedicated glassworking brace. Go, me.
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What went before TWO: So that’s 1,140ish new words, bringing the WIP to 98,770ish. Now, I need to do some picking up for Sara, who arrives V. Early tomorrow, eat a lateish lunch, and do as many picky little tasks as I can before it’s time to leave for glassworking class.
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What went before THREE: Always a shock, when years later you reread a story you had written that you had thought was . . . not up to standard — and realize that it’s a good story, after all, despite it wasn’t the story you had, perhaps, intended to write.

“Our Lady of Benevolence,” by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller.
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What went before FOUR: Wow, am I bad at cutting glass. Though, in my own defense, even the teacher thought there was a reason the glass I’d bought for sand was on sale. I am significantly better at cutting clear and pebbled glass, so — though it’s a poor workman and all like that — I’m blaming the glass.

Onward…
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Friday. Up earlier than I’d like, but the payoff is that Sara will be here in and in a couple hours I’ll have a clean house.

It is currently chilly down here in the shadowland, though sunny at treetop level.

Sigh.

The tea is really good this morning. Barkeep! Set me up another!

So, homework is to finish cutting out my glass, so the pieces are ready to be ground and — I dunno — next week. I’m having a lot of I Dunno moments, and while I recognize that this is in fact what learning a new thing is, it’s still … disconcerting. It probably doesn’t help that our teacher, who is very skilled and has been doing and teaching glass for A Long Time, occasionally forgets to articulate a step.

It was, for instance, only last night that I was finally able to understand why I needed “half a ceiling tile” and in fact, caught a glimmer of What Kind of ceiling tile. ANSWER: It’s to build the pattern on, after you’ve cut your glass. So! That would be a hard, as opposed to a fluffy asbestos, ceiling tile. Or perhaps a thin piece of board of the appropriate size. I’ll poke around downstairs and see what I have.

As I said last night, I have several kinds of glass to work with, and the … opaque glass is murder to cut. The several pieces of colored glass cut like a dream, and I suppose it’s a good thing that I started with the sky — which is clear orange glass — and cut my pieces with no problem.

Trouble started with the ocean — also opaque, swirls of blue and white that I had thought myself very fortunate to have found on sale — when I did a credible job of cutting several small pieces, but managed to break a bigger piece. Still, I have glass left over, so that can probably be salvaged.

Then I got to the swirly yellow, beige, tan part that was to be the sand. There are six? smallish pieces, and no matter how I leaned on my cutter, I couldn’t get a score deep enough to break properly. The instructor finally came by, looked at the carnage on my table and asked what my plan was. I said that I still did have several large pieces of the same glass leftover and that my plan was to start over. She took my cutter and a scrap, tried a score, shook her head and said, “Do you have the pattern pieces for all of this?” I handed them over. She fished the bigger pieces out of my scrap box and said, “I’ll do these. This glass isn’t easy.”

She didn’t have time to cut them before class let out, but she told me to bring them back next time and she’d cut them for me. So there’s that. And — lesson learned. I shall be working with clear glasses until I have something approaching a skill level there.

I suspect that my work was not made easier by having a cutter that leaks oil all over.

So! Not exactly a success, my first attempts. I thought I had prepared for screwing up, but, honestly? Largely due to ignorance regarding how many ways there were to screw up, I surprised myself.

Sara just texted to say that she’ll be a half-hour late, which gives me time to drink this cup and tea and make another before I retire to Steve’s office and open the WIP.

How’re y’all doing this morning?

Celebrating cats and poetry

Business first:  Today is Feral Cat Day and also Book Day for two charity anthologies to benefit Feral Cats.  Lots of good reading here, and!  You can donate to a worthy cause.  Read all about it
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I did sit with the WIP a bit this afternoon after lunch; wrote +/-560 new words, bringing total wordage to somewhere around 97,600.

Today’s deliveries included Calling: Selected Poems by Dorothea Neale.

Some of you may have heard Steve speak of his grandmother, the poet — and this would be her. She was the founder and director of the New York Poetry Forum for 30 years; taught drama and music, and wrote, directed, and produced the Children’s Play Shop, which aired on Saturday mornings on WBAL TV in Baltimore, for years. And she was also a prolific poet.

Steve was immensely proud of her, and often cited her example and support as the reason he became a writer.

After she died, Steve and his cousin Leith ter Meulen had talked about ways to make sure their grandmother’s work and legacy did not fade away, and Leith went on to see Calling published, featuring nearly 200 poems by Dorothea Neale.

Here’s a picture of Steve with his grandmother. The stamp on the back of the photo says MAR 78.

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Sigh. Files under Life With Cats.

So my right wrist has been painful and I’ve been wearing a wrist brace. I leave the braces, as a pair on the dining room table when I’m not wearing them, and did so last night. This morning, one is missing — the right one is missing. Of course. And if I have any hope of being able to cut glass tonight, it lies in having my right wrist braced.

I’ve looked in all the Cat Stash Places, and … nope. So I’ll be going to CVS after breakfast, which is only a couple blocks away, but not what I had planned to be doing this morning.
First cup of tea is brewed, and I’m thinking toast and cream cheese, with a side of grapes for breakfast.

How’s Thursday treating you?
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Back from CVS and heating milk for cocoa. What a terrible day outside. Grey and damp and cold. Ick.

The Good News is that I got two braces — a stretchy one to sleep in, which may help Current Conditions, and a working brace — and the “wellness wallet” paid for both, so — small victories. And somebody finally got a Clue and put a soft layer between skin and itchy velcro fasteners — upgrade!

In Cute Cat News, This is like the third time I’ve come home and seen Tali in the front window, Watching, and her eyes widen when she sees the car pull in. Apparently, she does miss me.

Speaking of Watching…a policeman?! Who could have been so careless? Or was it A Plan?

So! Off to drink my cocoa and then belatedly get to work.

Wednesday’s cat is full of woe

Didn’t take long to look lived in.

New project, for those who may be interested

Wednesday. Cloudy and damp.

Cleaning up my office before it’s time to go out for my haircut, and running a couple more errands while I’m out and about.

I have some more RL catchup to do after I get back home — or maybe I can push them onto tomorrow, and get some writing done. That would be nice.

I’m riding the edge of a lot of nervous energy and writing does help. Also, I really want to get a Compleat Draft by the end of November, so I can let it sit and cool before I have to go back in and Make Decisions. Yes, the book isn’t due until April. Yes, I have no co-author to do the cold read for me.

I think that’s all I’ve got this morning, with the exception of Rook being grumpy because I wouldn’t give him my cottage cheese this morning.

Hoping your cats aren’t grumpy this morning.

Woeful Rookie:

Come and take a walk with your sister, the Moon

The moon is gorgeous tonight, big and yellow.

So, now I have glass and the means to cut it, though I am strictly forbidden from doing so until next class. What I do have to do is finish cutting out my pattern and affixing the pieces to the appropriate pieces of glass so that I can begin cutting my glass next class.

Excuse me: “Seymour Glass. Do you See More Glass?” Thank you, J.D. Salinger. Honest to Ghod how long do I have to pay for that English project?

So! I’m feeling, actually, better about the glassworking after this evening’s class. Maybe because I have a better feel for how the moving parts fit together. Possibly because the instructor did not faint dead away when she saw my pattern, but said, “Oh, that’s nice, did you get that out of one of my books?” and then helped me modify that big swodge of “ocean” that some of y’all were so worried about.

I see that I’m going to have to be moving the portable radiators into The Foosball Room (so called because there was a Foosball table in that room when we looked at the house, and for a time it was a question whether or not we would be adopting), aka The Cold Room aka The Workshop, so I can cut glass (permission will apparently be given to cut glass at home eventually) without my supervisors getting paws on, not to mention glass in their fur.

For tonight, my glass and assorted Stuff is in the car. I’ll need to move it down to The Foosball Room before I head for the ocean tomorrow.

Fans of Firefly will wish to know that she is having the Zoomies. Apparently, she DID SO TELL the kids that I would be home and that I would feed them, first thing I got inside, and as this has come to pass, her stock has gone up.

That’s all I’ve got to report. The rest of my evening will be reading today’s chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October, and getting something to eat.

Everybody stay safe. Writer’s Day Off Tomorrow. I’ll check in as I can.

Oh, wait! My bats came:

Tonight’s blog post title brought to you by U2, “She Moves In Mysterious Ways“

Lukey’s boat’s got a fine fore cuddy

Shoulder dragon:

What went before: All righty, then! I have finished reading the page proofs for the Diviner’s Bow mass market. I’ll work a little later tonight to gather up the (very few) typos and send them along to Baen, so that‘s outta my hair.

This leaves me with the Top Sekrit Project, and completing the set-up and listings for Civilized Behavior, the November chapbook.

Today, the WIP broke 90,000 words, so that’s a thing.

Tomorrow is supposed to see a return to the 80sF, weatherwise. Someone had asked…somewhere, if it had been cool enough today to warrant wearing a hoodie. The answer being that today’s “hoodie” is a long-sleeved t-shirt that happens to have a hood. I don’t know why these design decisions are taken. I wanted a purple-striped t-shirt, and this one was on sale.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.
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So! Monday. Sunny and going to be Actually Warm. It is in fact 80F/27C in my office as of right now.

Got up early and hit the keyboard, wrote +/-1,425 new words. I want to get back to it. Maybe after I finish up the business portion of the day.

The really good news so far on the day (until the mail arrives and I see if my oval hoop was actually delivered, whereupon — new embroidery hoop!) is that the next door neighbor’s tree guy is willing to take my problem trees down while he’s doing the work next door. He’ll be by tomorrow to take a look IRL, give me quote, and — fingers crossed! — the trees will be taken care of in December.

The annoying news on the day is that the company through which I am financing the replacement doors in Steve’s office keeps texting me…things. I don’t want them texting me. Email. Email is the height of human communication, IMNSHO. Texting is an abomination, though I grant it’s useful in an emergency. I also don’t want medical entities texting me, but so far I haven’t made an impression there, either.

So! Trash and recycling are in the garage ready to be taken up to the curb tomorrow morning. And I have some email to answer, and at least one phone call to make.

Whhoooosssssshhhhh!

What’re you doing today?

Today’s blog post title from Great Big Sea, “Lukey’s Boat.”

Magic Glass Writing

What went before:

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What went before: Senior supervisor checking placement of juniors

 

 

 

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Wrote +/-900 words and needed a break to let the guys in the basement get in their beer order.

So, here’s my stained glass pattern, all color-coded and waiting for me to go to the glass store (on Thursday with the rest of my class) and buy some damn’ glass, Woman! I probably have too many colors, and it seems clear that the pattern, at least, wants Serious Art Glass for the sea and the starfish. I’ll see what’s on sale at the glass shop, pattern. No promises.

Who’s doin’ what today?

While I’m up and around…

Last night I went to the much-anticipated magic show — Magic Rocks, which is pronounced “Magic! Rocks!” and NOT “Magic rocks.” The reason for the sign prohibiting rabbits that I posted from the pre-show last night is because the illusionist, Leon Etienne, is IRL allergic to rabbits. So — no rabbits on stage or in the audience.

It was, yes, loud, because said illusionist is a rock ‘n roll enthusiast (thus “Magic! Rocks!), and there were bright lights and no lights at all at strategic moments.

The Lovely Assistants were, lovely, skilled pantomimists, and honestly, all-around good sports. The illusionist himself was personable, funny, and skilled.

There was a kind of camp feel to the show, aided and abetted by the Lovely Assistants, who seemed at times to be saying, “Yes, we all know this trick, right?” And yes, we all did know the trick, but seeing a woman cut in half live! on stage! is its own kind of magic.

I had, as I believe I said last evening, a really good time.

The tricks started big and showy, got small and intimate, then finished up big and showy.

The volunteers from the audience were uniformly good sports, and the expression on their faces when the magic happened multiplied the wonder in the room.

When the illusionists came down into the audience, I was close enough to hear him say to his first volunteer, “Ma’am, I’ve been looking at you all evening from up on stage, and it’s really been bothering me so I hope you won’t mind, but you’ve got a hair right here –” And I also heard her gasp “OH!” when he pulled the toy rabbit out of her ear.

I also want to call out the woman who went up on stage and surrendered her ring to the illusionist, who subsequently made it disappear — and then revealed that it had not transferred to the jewelry bag that had been set up to receive it. She was visibly tense, and got tenser, and tenser, as box after box after box was unlocked and opened, and her ring was still missing.

When it was finally found, her whole body shouted relief, her smile was to die for, and that one trick was a master class for any storyteller in the art of raising the stakes.

The kid volunteers were also terrific; I’m pretty sure I didn’t have that much sangfroid when I was seven.

Anyhow! If you have a chance to see Magic Rocks — do that.

Friday night roundup

What went before: Errands always take longer than you think they will. However! I have accomplished all my errands.

err. except going to the grocery store.

Which I will be doing! Just as soon as I finish eating the cottage cheese and pretzel that I’m calling by the pet name of “lunch” today.

The guy at SBS said that I was the third stained glass person in on the day, so — good to see we’re all on the case.

The creperie is … difficult for me to understand, and expensive. So I’ll try again some other time.

And that’s all the news that’s fit to print at the mom– Oh. I have an Informed Delivery note from the USPS — news of a package due four days out.

Rookie, by the way, doesn’t think that I need to go away for hours just to come home stinking of D.O.G. eeewwww! (SBS has two resident Big, Friendly Dogs, who were Very Interested in me and happy to provide Vitamin Dog, and we all know that it’s rude to turn down freely-offered Vitamin Dog.)

And that really is it.

Off to the grocery store I go!
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Helping me read:
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The day didn’t go exactly as planned, but! I wrote 545 new words, bringing the WIP entire to +/-89,500 words. And I did eventually do all my errands. And Sarah left the house nice and clean.

I was addressed as “sir” in Reny’s by a woman who was horrified and more apologetic than strictly necessary. She had just seen my hair, she said, and, and my shirt, and she had just made an assumption and ohmighod so very, very sorry MA’AM.

And one more argument against the proposition that you can just tell what people “are” by looking at them.

My “business desk” looks like a bomb hit it, but that’s at least partly the printout of the material that didn’t go through yesterday. I can apparently submit via paper, and I’m trying to decide if that will introduce more Room For Error. No HUGE rush, I guess, but I’d like to get it outta here.

I should probably come back after Happy Hour to put the desk into some kind of order. Or, yanno, not. I hate the feeling that I’m falling behind, and behinder. I’m pretty sure I’m not, but I depended on Steve to make those calibrations for me — really depended; I never learned how to do it for myself. I mean, I can — and do — write down the tasks in hand and their deadlines, look at them, and the calendar, and intellectually understand that I’ve got plenty of time, but the panic-maker never stops running around inside my head, yelling, “Holy freaking ghod, you’ve got So. Much. To. Do. You’re never going to get all this done, and then everything will fall apart, and what will happen to the cats, and, and, and. . . ”

Stoopid brain.

It just about is Happy Hour and I’ll at least be pouring myself a glass of wine in celebration of having gotten through today.

Tomorrow evening, I’m going to a magic show (Yes, I am. Stop it, Brain.), which I hope will be fun. I haven’t been to a magic show in ages. In fact, I think the last time was at Messalonskee High, approximately a hundred million years ago.

Before I go serve out Happy Hour, I want to share a photo. When Belle died Sara Oseasohn did a pastel portrait of her. Steve hung it on the wall in the living room, near the cat tree. Sara very kindly sent me a portrait of Trooper, which arrived today. I just hung it up. Pic below — not a good one, but the glass and the lighting kinda stretched my photography skills to the max.

And on that note! Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Forward to the fall

What went before: Back from needlework. Cats have had Happy Hour. I have two more business-like things to do before I can call it a day. Aside those two things, I think I did everything that needed doing (except writing) today, including reading 50 pages of proofs.

Tomorrow sees a return to the Write First Schedule.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

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I rate two supervisors this morning. Tali is taking her off-shift in the living room.

 

 

 

 

Wednesday. Chilly. Still working with the heat pumps, but if this keeps up, I might have to turn on the actual oil heat.

The morning writing session produced +/-1,755 new words, for a grand total-ish of 87,400.

Breaking early because End of Scene, and also? I’m starving. And given that I’m losing weight, but I’m not trying to lose weight, I figured I ought to Listen To My Body.

After lunch: one’s duty to the cats; walk; read page proofs; answer email — not necessarily in that order.

What’s everybody think of Snuff?

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Frost advisory this evening!  And my rose bush has a dozen (I counted) buds on it.

Soldier on, only you can do what must be done

Up betimes because there were pony races in the hall, followed by a sound that my sleeping mind identified as “That’s not right.”

And, indeed, it wasn’t right. Steve has a piece of burlap hanging in his office with various convention badges and buttons appended thereto. And Rookie Too-Smart had gotten one of the badges down with its lanyard and had run it down the hall to put by the bed, so I’d be sure to see it, first thing.

Sigh.

What a good boy.

Tea brewing. And look! I have an extra couple hours to write!

And how’s Monday starting out for you?
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Supervisors on duty:

 

 

 

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Small break to refill the Yeti with water and confuse the cats.

Not quite as focused on the writing this morning as I have been. I did write +/-865 words, and I intend to go back and at least plot out — I use this term both loosely and idiosyncratically — the scenes that are missing. Very few of those, now, which is — I have no idea how this book is happening, but it’s managing to come together, and, yanno — I’m only the writer. Nobody tells me anything.

I really want to just continue writing today, absent breaks for staging the trash, and doing my duty to the cats, and my brain is telling me I could just call in a veggie burger from Five Guys and that would be efficient, which suggestion is entered as evidence for why I don’t trust my brain.

As I said, I wasn’t laser-focused this morning. For instance, I bought a slip-proof mat for my keyboard, since Steve’s desk is VERY slidey. I also signed up for braiding and storytelling at First Friday, reasoning that, if I have something to actually attend on First Friday, the whole affair will make more sense to me.

The addition of the braiding made me realize that I suddenly have lots going on this week, For Values Of. Tomorrow evening, needlework; Thursday evening, my first stained glass class; Friday evening, the braiding thing; Saturday, Magic Rocks. I should also get (another!) blood test and a back xray. I can do the back xray tomorrow, but I’m a little leery about another blood test, even though this one isn’t fasting, and shouldn’t require more than one vial.

The above is also an illustration of why I don’t take every weekend “off” — I tend to decide to do things whenever, since writing is, to a certain point at least, malleable.

So, that. And I guess, while I’m up, I might as well perform my duty to the cats and get the trash and recycling into the garage for tomorrow.

So, I see that the Reimagined United States now has autodocs? And special hospitals that are only filled with autodocs — excuse me — “Med Beds” (gags), and there’s one with my name on it, probably in Solcintra, but, hey, it’s the thought…

How’s everybody at more or less midday (Eastern US) Monday?

Today’s blog post brought to you by John Parr, “St. Elmo’s Fire“