Tag: coon cat logic

Friday on the road

Friday. It’s an awfully nice day. Sunny and breezy. Warmer up inland where the Confusion Factory is located, than down Bath, where it was Right Cool at that nice little park of theirs. If I could snap my fingers and move this house as it is to Bath, I’d do that.

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah.

So, I saw my PCP, who’s looking well. I have my COVID shot, so that’s taken care of. I will also be traveling up and down Central and Coastal Maine for the next little bit — acupuncture at Rockport (not really acupuncture, but something to do with needles and reading nerve health and messaging); PT at Augusta; Audiology in this, mine own city. … I’m not sure where the bloodwork’s to be done. I’m hoping Thayer, but I need to check the portal.

We are in pursuit of a Better, Longer Term fix for the back, because it’s getting worse, and the poor chiropractor has worn out at least three hammers on me, to no real avail. He no sooner pronounces me Aligned, poor man, then my back goes out again for no reason, and I collapse to the floor, screaming. I mean, something’s not right when you hurt your back doing Tai Chi.

While in Bath, I went down to the park, obviously, and enjoyed a chocolate peppermint latte at Cafe Cream. It was wonderful, and now I’m sorry I didn’t allow myself a scone or a muffin, but! I found that just sitting in a busy cafe, sipping my latte and not doing much else, was … oddly restorative. I think it helped that everyone was having a reasonably good time; there were no angry voices, or people being nasty to the folks behind the counter, said folks being Genuinely Interested in you and your order (“Ooh, the Yorkie Latte? (this being the official blackboard name of my drink.) You’re gonna love that.” And she wasn’t wrong.)

After I drank my treat, I went across to Now Your Cooking and toured the premises. I bought a couple of gadgets — including a hook that will help me open pull-tab cans, which has become an issue — and a what ought to be a very nice red blend bottle of wine, which I plan on opening this evening, to reward myself for having gotten credibly through the morning.

The car’s GPS did this to me the last time I went to Bath, but I didn’t remember it soon enough to keep it from freaking me out. When you get off the expressway, there is Only One Way to merge with the state route. The GPS Strongly Disagrees with this, and starts screaming ROUTE RECALCULATING! ROUTE RECALCULATING! like a mad thing, and it really gets your heart racing. As I did the time before, I pulled off into the handy shopping center, whereupon the GPS recovered itself and agreed that I had been on the right road. Next time, I’m going to have to Steel Myself to ignore it.

On the way home, I stopped at the Harvest Moon Deli and bought way too much food — Tikka Marsala soup, which was good, and I ate it all; a roast beast of burden (they name their sandwiches after classic rock songs at the Harvest Moon) sandwich, which I ate a quarter of one half, the other 3/4s destined for the evening meal, and the remaining half either for tomorrow’s breakfast or lunch.

I still have paperwork sorting and portal-visiting to do relative to the medical part of the day, so that’s what I’ll be doing for the rest of the afternoon, with an eye toward hitting the writing space tomorrow and getting something useful done.

And how was your morning?

Before departure, Whatcha Doin’ Moms:

Thursday at a glance

Installment ONE:  So, I got up, had breakfast, carried my tea to Steve’s office, and was at work by 9:15. Surfaced at 11:55 to go down to do my duty to the cats and take a walk. Now need to figure out if I’m going to order in or just zap a Lean Cuisine.

I need to do a couple things in the business office, from which location I write to you. Those include finishing making a list for my PCP visit tomorrow, researching where the new office actually is, and downloading the Word Book from this computer to take back to the writing computer, which had redlined every other word in the manuscript because it hasn’t been brought up to date.

Firefly kept me company in the writing room all morning, and Rookie popped in and out. He was clearly a little concerned about me sitting in Steve’s chair — was I actually allowed to do that? Apparently, he went off and checked the paperwork, because he has clearly accepted that, yes, I can do that.

Hope everybody’s having a good day. It’s lovely and sunny here, warm, but not hot.

Installment TWO:  Everyone who asked after the keyboard. It is a Kinesis Advantage2 keyboard. I’ve been using them for at least 20 years; started when my wrists went bad and I bullheadedly refused to give up typing, because speech recognition did not work for me at all. This is what happens when what you actually do instead of pronouncing words correctly is fake people into thinking you talk good by a combination of inflection and body language, neither of which translates into computer programs.

The Kinesis Advantage2 helps because your wrists are in a neutral position and your fingers can hang down in a neutral position, rather than being Poised! To! Strike! as is the case with a standard flat keyboard.

Yes, the learning curve was vile. And, also yes, the trade off is that I now can’t type on a flat keyboard, so if I’m taking my laptop on a trip, I either have to also take a keyboard almost as big as the laptop, or Accept that I’m going to be reduced to two-fingering it for as long as I’m away.

This is always a difficult choice because typing is my mode of expression of choice, right after interpretive dance.

Installment THREE:  OK, fun game!

First question: Do the Liaden books have any “tropes”? Examples given “grumpy sunshine,” “found family,” “the chosen one”? (What on earth is “grumpy sunshine” and do people really push the “tropes” in their books?)

Second question: Can you give us a 1 sentence (30 words) quote form one of your books? (“Yes,” which is my go-to, is not in this case a Valid Answer.)

In other news, the Lean Cuisine won, because I made the mistake of checking my mail. My plan is to eat, and then go back and write for another couple hours.

Installment FOUR:  OK. I have written to the originators of the Survey which included the Fun Questions.

So far today, I have Scrutinized the chapter-by-chapter, identified holes in the narrative and sketched in a couple of ideas to fill them. I finished writing a scene, for a total of more-or-less 1250 new words, and did more research. At this point, I might as well open my own noodle shop (no, I haven’t watched the movie yet; I’m a little leery of spillage, since I’m actively working on this situation for the book). I hoped to write more today, but that’s probably not going to happen? Because mail, and also I really ought to wash the dishes so I can find the sink. And see if, one! more! time! I can find LibreOffice’s Word Book.

Tomorrow is the much-complained about trip to Bath and the PCP. I suppose I might as well declare a Writer’s Day Off at this point, hit the bakery and tour the kitchen store, and plan on getting back to work on Saturday.

It looks like next week, I have, with the exception of Tuesday evening needlework, nothing scheduled, so that’s like a whole uninterrupted week of work. Fingers crossed that nothing comes up to force a change of plans.

So, that’s it. I feel like I had a very successful test-drive of separating the mundane and the writing work spaces, and I hope this continues to prove out.

Everybody have a good evening; I’ll check in as I can.

 

Ain’tcha got no rhymes for me?

What went before ONE: Well, that wasn’t what I was going to be doing when I got home.

Splinter Universe got blasted out of the water (no, I don’t know Exactly How; we’ve been having some DoS fun over at my blog, and there may have been residual damage. Or it could’ve gotten targeted just for its own self.). Whatever the cause, I spent the last couple hours trying to put it back the way it was, and finally gave up on that in favor of getting the site online again, and there I may report success.

Splinter Universe is back on line, for those who may have missed it. All the Stuff is there, but it is much simpler in appearance.

Also? Yon writin’ woman is Some Corked Off.

Tomorrow: Early mammogram, just in case I needed another reason to be grumpy.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll check in tomorrow.

What went before TWO: So…I’m sorry; I have to share this or it will haunt me all night. AARP has shared A Tip of foods to limit if you have “prediabetes” (do not get me started on “prediabetes.” Arguably we all have “prediabetes,” it’s kind of like having “predeath.” See? You didn’t have to get me started; I’m self-powered.)

Anyway, this list of things to avoid have swap outs — you know the drill, instead of pasta, have some tasty spaghetti squash. Instead of rice, have some cauliflower. And — here’s the one that will haunt me for the length of my days —

Swap out wine for!

Vodka.

Yes, yes, I’ve gone and scared the cats, and on that note, I’m going to pour a glass of wine, which I have abSOfreakingLUTELY earned this afternoon.

Tuesday. Sunny and chill, but getting warmer fast.

Trash and recycling at the curb. Mammogram accomplished. Breakfast was vanilla Skyr. Drinking my second cup of tea with the last two cranberry-walnut-oatmeal cookies. You know what this means, of course?

Right. I need to bake more cookies.

. . .

Yanno? I think I have chocolate chips.

Another bad night of sleep, with the exception of the two! whole! hours! that Firefly tucked her compact little self into my stomach, and turned her purr box on High. I’ve gotta get me some more of that.

Firefly is currently off-duty, but that does not mean I’m unsupervised. Tali and Rook are both on guard at the right-side window, so I can feel certain They won’t get in That Way.

Needlework this evening. Between now and then, I have to perform my duty to the cats, and then I believe I will address the Cookie Situation.

Y’all have enough cookies?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Paul Simon, via Harper’s Bazaar (you may blame 60sGold on Sirius XM for this)  “59th Street Bridge Song.”

Photo of the Right Flank Guards at work:

Believe in me, I’m with the High Command

What went before: 42% of new ramen shops close within the year; 72% close within three years.

Good heavens; I had no idea (1) how many people want to open noodle/ramen shops or (2) what the fail rate is.

Yes, I’m researching noodle shops for the WIP.

Because! You should write what you know.

Which means: Do your research.

Edited to add:  No, I’m not looking for stats; I’m looking for what you need in the kitchen.  The stats were just … there.

What went before: So, wrote a scene kind of like the scene I had in my head, about 1,180 words.

I have a couple of things to set up for the rest of the week, which is just chock full of fun. Book club early tomorrow afternoon — that’s fun. Mammogram at 8 am on Tuesday — not so much fun — and needlework tomorrow evening. They’re going to start charging me rent at the library.

Wednesday and Thursday are clear, and on Friday morning, I get to drive to Bath to visit my PCP. Could be worse, I guess. At least Bath is interesting, and I can reward myself for my patience by visiting the bakery, after.

Speaking of fun, I suddenly, and almost without warning, decided that I was done with low-stakes cozies for the moment and on the advice of a friend have taken on Shards of Earth by Adrian Tchaikovsky. So far, so good. It’s good to see what the Iloheen got up to in their retirement. And it’s good to be reminded that we/I don’t write ambitious books.

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

***

Earlier that same Monday: So, I often listen to Alan Hunter on Classic Rewind on Sirius XM. He’s doing something interesting — send him your top ten favorite songs from the “Cassette Era” and he, or somebody, will tally them up and play the Most Favorite Top Ten of Everybody Everywhere sometime in October.

Of course, I don’t remember Alan’s email address, and he did allow as how this is the sort of list that changes daily, if not hourly, but it’s an interesting challenge of itself.

So! I Challenge You! List your Top Ten Songs from the so-called “Cassette Era of Rock and Roll” (late 1970s-early 1990s) as of — Right Now.

Go.

My Top Ten before I finish my first cup of tea are (in no particular order, because that would be TOO crazy):
1 Silent Running, Mike and the Mechanics
2 Don’t Pay the Ferryman, Chris de Burgh
3 Werewolves of London, Warren Zevon
4 Don’t Fear the Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult
5 Under Pressure, Queen/Bowie
6 Burn with Me, Modern English
7 Missionary Man, The Eurythmics
8 Be Good to Me, Tina Turner
9 Sultans of Swing, Dire Straits
10 Beast of Burden, Rolling Stones

#

Reading over a section I wrote a couple days ago. Made note: “Korval pilots do not SCURRY.” Sheesh. Who writes this stuff?

So, Monday. Sunny and pleasant. Been doodling around with mini-projects. Getting my needles ready for the next project. Making a pot of rice, doing some business correspondence. Need to go downstairs and clean the cat boxes in a few. Book Club at 1.

Last night, after I quit for the day, I sat down and handwrote another two pages. I really need to sit down, seriously, with the chapter-by-chapter and make a list of What’s Missing, ’cause I could write Good Scenes until the Heat Death of the Universe. Still looking at that title. It may have to do.

I keep forgetting to mention for the edification of Rookie’s Fan Club — for all his obvious charms, and they are many, Rookie has not really been very chatty. Given that he’s a Maine Coon, that made him practically silent. As a kitten, his purr was so loud, it sometimes knocked him over, which was — no, we don’t laugh at our kittens. We tell them they’re Very Special to have Thought of That. Now that he’s a Big Cat, though, his purr is extremely soft and puffy, and while I have once or twice heard him yell in frustration, his vocalizations were mostly quiet, and directed to the other cats.

That has changed, since, I’ll say, since Trooper left us. Rook has taken to meeping at me, making eye contact and Stating A Thing.  He’s still much more quiet-spoken than Trooper, or even Sprite, who spoke softly, but with Great Clarity — but he’s talking, and he clearly means to communicate. So, yanno, that’s exciting.

The kid’s still growing.

I don’t think I have anything else to report. As said, I’ve got a few chores to do before I head off for book club, but it’s not really a very crowded looking day.

How’s your Monday shaping up?

Today’s blog post title from Mike and the Mechanics, “Silent Running,” because how could I not?

Also, cat tax.  Tali is getting bold:

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.