Tag: coon cat logic

They’re rioting in Africa

Friday. Sun behind the clouds, coolish. Supposed to stay that way.

We here in Central Maine stand, battered, snow shovels in hand, beneath a Winter Storm Watch. Heavy snow with sleet predicted from this evening through tomorrow evening. The danger now, aside slick roads and travel surfaces, is ice coated limbs and wires coming down.

Today may be the day the heart monitor goes back in its box and goes home to Boston. It has been progressively losing its mind, but this morning, it wants to be charged. This despite having been charged all night. I moved it into my office and plugged it into another working plug, and still it cries out for life-giving electricity.

I am so done with this device.

I tried to call the cardiologist’s office, and got the It’s Too Early message, which was bemusing, because I’d slept long and hard, and got up late. And yet? It still lacks a few minutes til 8 am.

Well.

I s’pose I ought to get a kettle on for tea and go find some pants.

How’s your Friday starting out?

Following up.

It’s now very sunny in my office. I chose to put on one of Steve’s nice heavy Carhartt flannel shirts, which may prove to be overkill, but is comfy, anyway.

Breakfast was tomato and swiss cheese sandwich. Second cup of tea by my side. Possibly, I will call in lunch. If I order from Asian Cafe, I’ll have enough leftovers to last the weekend.

I did speak with the cardiologist’s office, and, as I was explaining the problem, the heart monitor decided that it was charged. I did some guided punching of buttons, and the device does seem to be working, for very flexible values of “working,” so I can’t get rid of it quite yet, more’s the pity.

The cardiologist’s receptionist wanted to let me know that they were *there* for me until May 28. I asked her what was going to happen after that, and she said, “Oh! You haven’t heard? The hospital –” No, I said, I had heard that. What I wanted to know was what was going to happen after May 28 when I had no cardiologist. “Oh! Call your PCP.” My PCP, says I, is also attached to the hospital. He’s going to be vanishing, too. “Yes. But he will be able to refer you to other doctors. The hospital is working on a plan, but it’s not solid yet.”

By reports, the hospital knew it was going to have to close two years. And yet! They announce a month ago that they’re closing in June, and it has no plan for its patients, for whom they apparently accept no responsibility. Shame on you, Inland/Northern Light. As for referring to “other doctors,” I believe I mentioned here that the Other Hospital is laying off doctors and staff because they, too, are bleeding $$s.

In view of the upcoming weather, I’m going to call the vet and see if I can get another scant jar of prednisone for Trooper. I’ve taken to mixing it in the gravy food, because he hates the syringe and he’s too strong for me to hold when he’s determined. The old system was that Steve would hold the cat and I would administer the drug, but that’s no longer playable.

So, aside from one’s duty the cats, and going out for meds and more of the cat gravy, my plan is to do ASL homework and write.

That’s it. Yes, it’s a boring plan, but it’s MY plan.

Today’s title brought to you by The Kingston Trio, “The Merry Minuet“

After-snow

What went before: So, there’s six inches of snow on the front step, and it’s still snowing. It did stop for a couple hours, and I thought the Big Storm was a bust, but it started to snow again just as the mailman came past and I trekked out to the curb to get my package, which was, indeed, delivered.

I spoke to Martin’s Point, which allowed me to know that neither 0 nor 45 was the correct number of dollars owed the clinic. That number is 35, which I didn’t even know was a choice. The check has been written, and we’ll hope the clinic is better informed than I am.

I made a few inroads into the next ASL lesson. Tomorrow, I fear I will have to go back and review the previous lesson. Though I did today, for two minutes, watch a conversation between two ASL speakers, and understood what they were saying — by which I mean, I wasn’t translating what they were saying into spoken words — so that gives me some hope for eventual adequacy.

I note that the Other — as in the remaining — Hospital serving this area (in Augusta) is laying off staff, citing financial problems.

The WIP — remember the WIP? — currently weighs in at +/-16,580 words, and at this point we’re not arguing if they’re good words, as long as we’re all heading in the same direction.

I have exchanged emails with the Techs of BaltiCon, and also with Mark Van Name, the toastmaster, and my issues in re the microphone have been revealed and are being addressed, which is a huge relief.

I have one more letter to write, then it’s time to relax. They say.

The Garmin watch and I continue to have very different ideas of what constitutes stress. Again, I would have told you that I had a fairly peaceful day. The watch is urging me to take some downtime after a Very Stressful Day. OTOH, its understanding of how well and how much I’m sleeping is much closer to my understanding of these things, so that’s good. And at some point, I’ll figure out how to tell it that I’m taking a walk. Or perhaps I’m simply not energetic enough for it. At least it counts the steps.

Slightly off-topic — how many folks who read here know who Paul Novak was?

#

Tuesday. Trash and recycling are at the curb.

I woke up slightly early, knowing that there was shoveling before me so I could get the trash to the curb. I was just pulling on my sweatshirt when the door camera jingled and I looked outside to see that the plowguy had arrived. Six inches of wet snow swept away like it was nothing. All hail the plowguy.

After that, it was easy enough to give the trash bags a ride in the toboggan to the top of the drive. Wheeling the recycling bin was a little tricky, but it got there.

Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts and a cup of Republic of Tea English Breakfast that came as a sample with my order. It’s … better than other English Breakfast teas I’ve sampled, but I’m still preferring the Irish. I think it’s the malt.

I thought I might forage today, but — maybe not. It’s supposed to get warm(ish) later, but I’m not really eager to go out in the slop and the mud.

Mostly, then, I’ll be ASLing and writing. I stripped the bed yesterday, so I can throw the bedclothes in the washer and get (slightly) ahead of the game, so that may be a plan.

A reader query has been received, which I paraphrase: Do I know that the world is falling apart, as I sit here and natter about nothing?

Answer: Yes. Yes, I do.

The cats at the moment are dispersed throughout the house: Rook among the toys in my office; Firefly on top of the bureau in the bedroom; Trooper on the rug between my office and the kitchen; Tali under the dining room table, taking up, I may say, most of available space. They make a compelling case for snuggling under a blanket, but maybe I’ll get the washer loaded, first.

What’s everybody got going today?

#

I Am Remiss.

I posed a Question last night and have failed to give the answer.

Paul Novak was the man who was, in his own words, “put on this earth to take care of Mae West.”

Mr. Novak was born Chester Ribowsky in Baltimore, Maryland. In WWII, he was a navy gunner. After the war, he took to the stage as “Mr. Baltimore,” a wrestler. Previous to joining Mae West’s nightclub act in the 1950s as part of the chorus line, he became Chester Krauser. Mr. Novak was 32; Ms West was 62.

They remained together until her death in 1980 at the age of 87. Mr. Novak died in 1999, at 76.

Poor man’s fertilizer

What went before: Oh, let’s see. Wrote +/- 800 new words, sketched in another scene, did Yet. Another. Timeline off the end of Salvage Right, and I have to ask, Who thought writing a sequel to Salvage Right was a good idea, because We? Gotta Talk.

Finished the laundry, put the sox away, brushed four out of a possible four coon cats, watched a couple How To Play Nice With Your Microphone tutorials, because I have never in all these years made peace with microphones. I have not done my ASL work, and … yeah, I’m not doing it now.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has happened. I’ll need to refill the bowls with dry food before I go to bed or there will be complaints to the Committeecat.

Tomorrow is Monday, and the weatherbeans are calling for 2-6 inches of snow to fall between 10am and 10pm. In Theory a guy is coming by to look at washing the windows and cleaning the rain gutters, but I’m not holding my breath.

Pretty much, I’m done for the day. Gonna make a sandwich, have a glass of wine and find something to read.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

#

Monday. Cloudy and on the road to snow.

Breakfast was the two steamed chicken buns from the freezer. They made a pretty good breakfast, and the orange was a good chaser for the spice. Second cup of tea is brewing. I’m defrosting a beanloaf to have someway or nother for lunch.

Informed Delivery informs me that a package that the vendor rescheduled delivery for twice is suddenly! and literally Without Warning! out for delivery today. This may be what brought the snow to us.

The morning started with tears. Seattle in 2025 Programming wrote to me yesterday reminding me that I hadn’t filled out my panelist information, and — I took a deep breath and let them know that I would not be attending. SunnyJim wrote back very graciously, and — I wanted to go, dammit. I even have enough Amtrak credit to fund half the trip, but reality suggests that the trip alone would unglue me for days, and it’s not much of a con if you’re huddling in your room (which is another Test I’m not ready to take; hotel reservations for Worldcons have become the stuff of nightmares). Steve would have made all this look easy, but that was Steve’s promise before we even moved in together — “I’ll make it easy for you.” Which, granting various definitions of “easy”, he did. (Cue Paul Novak).

I note, a year out, that this New Order still has some massive bugs.

So, that.

Today, aside from the possible arrival of the guy who needs to look at the windows and the gutters, is projected to be a quiet day of homework, writing, and watching the snow. I think I have enough milk left to make a mug of hot chocolate to sip while looking out the window.

What are your plans for the day?

*Today’s blog title brought to you by the Folk Wisdom that snow is the poor man’s fertilizer.  Why? you ask.  Because snow brings nitrogen down to earth and revitalizes the soil.

Here’s a picture of Trooper to light your way today.

Big wind, tiny void

Big wind tiny void
curls in safety, softly warm
Big wind dies, void sighs
–Haiku off the cuff, Sharon Lee

What went before ONE: And the bread’s out. Not a bad looking loaf, though I got a little carried away with the dusting.

Recipe here

TWO:  Big wind blowing. The Teeniest Void Kitten climbed into my lap when it started, and curled up into a knot the size of Rhode Island.

This of course makes it very easy to type.

Ren Zel and Anthora are an … interesting couple.

THREE:  What went before: So, I thought I was waiting for a box of bookmarks today, but it turns out that what I was really waiting for was a box full of Ribbon Dance mmps! Coming out on April 29!

In re BaltiCon: People are asking if there will be a Friends of Liad breakfast and/or a Teddy Bear Tea.

The Friends of Liad breakfast, which is not a con event, but a gathering of the clan to share a meal, and to catch up with each other, is definitely possible; the hotel restaurant is able to accommodate a group. I can’t tell you when, because I need to find what my schedule will be.

Teddy Bear Tea: is traditionally a con event, and therefore vulnerable, as all events, to the necessities of the program.

Bottom Line: I don’t have any information to share until I get together with BaltiCon Programming, and their schedule is finalized.

Summing Up: Watch the skies.

Saturday. Sunny and gonna get warm. Monday, say the weatherbeans, it will snow.

Breakfast was naan, hummus, and a mini-orange. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch is on the knees of Zao Shen.

This morning, I need to change the strip that keeps the heart monitor stuck to my chest. No, I am not happy about this.

After that — we’ll see. Maybe I’ll go for a ride, being as it’s gonna be so warm and all. I haven’t been to Belfast since forever. Maybe get lunch at the coop. That could work.

In other news, and in the spirit of saving the best for last — it comes about that the anniversary edition of I DARE will be published by Baen in December. Here’s the new cover; art by Sam Kennedy.

Updates and speeches, oh my

What went before (late morning edition): Have foraged. Came home, put away the perishables, made myself a cup of cocoa, and retired to the Command Chair to finish reading The Tomb of Dragons. I may need to go back to Witness for the Dead and reread all three in one go, but not right now. Right now, I believe I’ll move on to The Orb of Cairado.

I’m presently waiting for prospective lawn guy to show up to view the Long Back Yard and give me a price and a plan.

After that I’ll have lunch and see what I feel like doing.

I note that Informed Delivery tells me I have a personal letter from the SSA unit here in the city. Which isn’t terrifying at all.

Fans of the The Rookie will be pleased to know that he continues to come when he’s called, which is fine by me and convenient for him as well. I inadvertently shut him in the hall closet. A little later, as I was giving out treats, I noticed that there was no Rook present, which is highly unusual. I called out, as one does, “Rook? Where is that Rookie?” heard a loud AaaRW! from the foyer and went to let him out.

What went before (evening edition): So, I got involved in trying to update korval.com, which is one of those tasks that will never end, but I got some stuff brought into this year, and some other stuff brought into the current decade.

I also made a rough start on my acceptance speech, and added a little bit to a scene, so the WIP can’t complain that it’s been ignored.

Prospective lawn guy came, toured the Long Back Yard, and promises to send me a couple of plans with prices.

Tomorrow, I’m meeting a friend for lunch, and I should probably bake a loaf of bread either before or after. I still need to tinker with the directories on korval.com, but that may be all I’m up for.

The letter from the local SSA office that I was worried about was only the annual reminder that I have filed an Advanced Designation of Representation with them, so that was a relief.

Coon cat happy hour happened early so I could finish updating the webpage I was working on, and now it’s time for me to review my homework again (see what happens?), and then segue into the evening.

. . . onward . . .

Wednesday. Sunny and warm.

Breakfast was rice crackers and cream cheese and one of Those Little Oranges. Lunching at Portland Pie Company with a friend. Need to make a pot of rice so I’ll have it on-hand.

Tali and Rook are Working Something Out. The entails a lot of Tali smacking Rook in the head, lashing tails, and face-making. Occasionally, Rook will throw himself at Tali, using his extra weight to knock her over, but that’s not a Winning Strategy. Tali just wraps herself around him, latches into his sides with her front claws and kicks the heck out of him with her hind feet.

. . . I think she’s done this before.

Anyhow, this will either teach Rook Science, or not to mess with Tali. Or possibly both. I haven’t heard any bad words, so I am assuming that this has to do with the Feline Organizational Chart, and the eventual deployment of contractual tasks regarding the care and keeping of the thumbs, whose well-being is necessary to the comfort of cats.

Trooper is lazing in the sun. Firefly was on the back of the sofa, and available to receive pets and soft words of admiration, which were of course forthcoming.

I figured out that one of the reasons I like the Garmin watch is because it’s not … cute. Frequent readers will recall that I have a Limited Capacity for cute, most of which is used up by the birb and his adventures. The Garmin is friendly; it explains itself, but it’s not … huggy. Our relationship is well within my comfort zone.

Last night I read the teaser for Ministry of Time, which was — all right? I mean, if I had had the whole book, I would have kept on reading, but I don’t know that I’m motivated to go out and buy the rest of the story.

And that’s all I’ve got here in my very small and insular corner of the world.

What’s going on in your corner of the world?

Tali’s natal day, clockwork edition

What went before: Well. My watch is updating. I am not accustomed to the watch being my main point of information, so that will be a change. Also, some things that are I guess supposed to be intuitive — aren’t. Like, yanno, putting on the band. I did finally figure it out, but Jeez Louise as somebody once said.

I did get my reading of the WIP done, despite It All. It’s not Terrible, there are some things that are in the wrong place, but since I’m trying to match at least three separate timelines so that everybody can arrive at their meeting at the right times, that’s probably, oh, normal instead of evidence of a Descent into Dementia.

Yanno? When I was twenty, I never worried about a Descent into Dementia. Just sayin’.

I should probably go find some cheese to put on a piece of bread, brew a cup of chamomile tea, and take it and my book with me to bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow, which is!

Tali’s third birthday.

Sunday. Cloudy. Well. I suppose I can concede to the Weatherbeans in this. Foggy. I am led to believe that it will be foggy all day, which I suppose is possible, at the rate that the snow is sublimating. The Long Back Yard is more grass than snow. I was just watching a crow sorting through dead leaves and old grass and fly off with a beakful into the Really Tall Pine Tree, so I’ll guess I’ll have new neighbors.

Breakfast was biscuit with sausage and a slice of cheddar with black grapes. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will be — yeah, whatever. Maybe a scone.

As planned, I just put myself and my book into bed at 9, and read while I drank my tea. Firefly and Rook joined me in the bed. Tali took the overlook position at the top of the bookcase. The new watch says I had a “highly restorative” sleep of 7 hours and 40 minutes, with lots of Deep and REM, which have been in short supply lately, and probably why I’ve been feeling so tired.

I must say that I’m enjoying Mr. Harney’s Egyptian Chamomile tea. I’m alternating with the Republic of Tea Chamomile Lemon that a friend sent me, which I’m also enjoying. I’m trying to simplify my life, but I really do think that I’ll order in replacements of both.

I am not dizzy this morning, and I’m counting that a win. I am feeling rather meh (Note to Weatherbeans: Some sunshine would help over here), so, as advised by my new notepad, I made a list, and I do feel (a little) better. On the list is a blankie run, changing out the cat fountains, buying cpap supplies, homework, and writing.

Writing may only be working with the correx/additions I identified yesterday, but that still counts. And! one of the benefits of reading your WIP over (and over and over and…) is that engaging with the story produces more story (i.e. You know what’s missing here? Or, happier: You know what comes next?) I don’t know how writers who just start and flame through to the end of the first draft without ever stopping to read what they’ve already written do it, honestly.

As mentioned previously, today is Tali’s third birthday. She has been celebrating energetically, chasing spring, ball and her kid brother all over the house, so much in motion that I am not at this time able to offer a picture of the Birthday Cat. She did come by and check in with Trooper. He muttered at her, she cleaned his ears, then bolted off to discipline Rook.

The new watch is … interesting. It has a lot more functionality than the FitBit, and is much bigger — despite which, it’s lighter and more comfortable on my wrist. The FitBit and I had never had a warm relationship, even before Google decided to try to force me to buy a Google watch by driving the FitBit insane. By comparison, the Garmin (bear with me, people; we all have to work with the brain we have) is calm and friendly. I’m not used to having so much information on the watch but even so it’s easy to navigate, and I can of course add and subtract the information I want to see. I think I did the right thing.

I’m about halfway through Tomb of the Dragons, and having a good time with it. I had to stop and explain to Firefly that these were not Liaden dragons, because they lived in another book. It’s a hard concept, but I think she got it. At least, she blinked her eyes and went back to sleep.

And that’s it from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

So! Who has sunshine where they are?

Interesting Times

What went before:  Northern Light Hospital (a non-profit hospital), which is less than a mile from my house, and one of the several reasons we were so very pleased to find this house when we did, is closing on June 11.  My PCP, cardiologist, womens health, and other specialists are of course all attached to that hospital.  News story here.

Friday. Cold and cloudy-ish when I got up. The sun’s making some inroads now. The weatherbeans are putting their chips on 50F/10C.

First Breakfast was a cup of cottage cheese. Coffee and a scone for early Second Breakfast. If I do this right, I might be able to squeeze in Third Breakfast — and there’s lunch solved.

Trooper is back from the vet. We have mixed news. He was to have had his rabies vaccine and general wellness check today. Despite the fact that I see him eating, and his interest in All the Goodies at Coon Cat Happy Hour, he’s lost weight since I took him in for his anxiety, last month.

Here at home, I haven’t been able to alleviate (or identify a cause for) his ongoing anxiety. (I don’t think he’s reading the news, though I guess Firefly could be keeping him up to date.) His blood work from the previous visit was “normal” (Vet: “Because of course it is.”) His vet pronounces him “frail.” Because he’s a cat, and even more stoic than most cats, we can’t tell if he’s in pain. If he is, it’s generalized and not specific. All that considered, and being unwilling to put him under the systemic stress, the vet did not give him his rabies shot. She did give him a shot of Solensia, which is a pain reliever used for things like arthritis. I’m to watch him, of course, and report back next week.

So, that. Good thoughts for Trooper, if you have them to spare.

Now that I’m home, I intend to stay home for a couple days and spend some Quality Time with my manuscript. It’s possible I can sneak in a drive to the ocean on Sunday or Tuesday.

ASL class was fun and interesting. We are a motivated group, good-natured and easy-going. I have homework, including working out how to spell my parents’ names, which at least this time my security clearance is sufficient to allow access to that information. (In first grade, when Sister asked me what my father’s name was, I said, “Al.” There was a pause before she asked what my mother’s name was, and I said, perfectly confident, “Hon.” And that’s how I wound up standing in the front of the classroom with my hair stapled to the bulletin board.) Also, counting 1-20, and vocabulary words.

I may register for the second session, which starts immediately after this one ends, though I’ll have to miss the last class by reason of traveling to BaltiCon.

. . .and the sun is now sufficiently high in the sky that the frost on the deck has melted and is starting to evaporate.

I finished reading the 8th Lord Julian novel last night, which I think catches me up there, and started reading The Tomb of Dragons.

What are you reading?

Second Breakfast Cat Census:

How we make cat food

What went before: 960 new words, plus some throwing around of ideas, and bringing up to date of the Weird Word List.

I washed the towels. Now I need to fold them and put them away. Oh, and take the extra bread out of the freezer, which I never did, though I said I was going to.

Thursday. Grey and gloomy. Warm, but not as warm as yesterday.

Breakfast was PB&J on toast, first cup of tea is almost done. Lunch will be — um.

Errands this morning, homework review, and ASL class this evening. Those are what’s on the schedule. Oh — and I should call the cardiologist’s office. The phone’s need for constant reassurance is going to drive me bugs long before we hit Day 30.

Last night, I just went straight to bed after the evening meal. I took a Yeti cup of chamomile tea with me, and my tablet. I was immediately joined by Firefly and Rook, who stayed with me until I turned out the light about an hour later, so that was pleasant.

It occurs to me that last year, I was able to accomplish miracles on four hours’ sleep because I was driven by the energy that’s released when the world blows up. That energy has long since dissipated. Now, I’m tired all the time, and frequently confused in my purpose. And there’s twice as much to do — or at least, the same amount to do, but with half the staff. The cats are of course a comfort, but their advice in almost every stressful situation is to take a nap. They’re not necessarily wrong, but, then, they don’t have to pay bills, or even buy cat food.

Tali is now on my lap, purring, and bumping the keyboard away with her head. I have just repeated the “This is a keyboard; it’s how we make cat food” lecture for the umpth time. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t believe me.

And off she goes! I’ve put the kettle on to boil for my second cup of tea.

What’s for lunch at your place?

In which sleeping well is its own reward

What went before: So, I pulled the trigger on my Garmin watch this afternoon after I came home. After warning me that it could be Several Days before my package would be mailed, I have a shipping notice and the news that I should see my Item by March 17, so Happy Five Years Cancer Free to me.

I sat with the manuscript a bit, but got no new-word-writing done to speak of. Tomorrow, I have “nothing” on the schedule, so I will try to buckle down and actually get some work done.

I have one more thing to get out into the email lanes, then I’m done for the day.

Trooper, alas, has caught on to Spring Forward. He is even now positing that it is Coon Cat Happy Hour, which — it will be Old Time Coon Cat Happy Hour in just 1/2 hour.

That didn’t last long.

Chorus:  Now’s the time to preorder your signed copy of Diviner’s Bow from The Uncle.  Here’s how.

Wednesday. Sunny and cool. The ‘beans are calling for Cooler Than Yesterday.

Breakfast was homemade wheat toast with cream cheese and grapes. My first cup of tea is with me here at the desk.

The loaf of bread is almost gone, so one decision on the day is whether I’m making a new loaf today or defrosting the Extra. Lunch with be chicken patty on a roll with a slice of cheddar — a chickenburger! — and whatever veggies seem good at the time.

I didn’t go to bed last night as early as I had planned (mostly because Tali had actually come to my lap and gone to sleep while I was reading, and I didn’t want to leap right up and disrupt a Milestone), but I did sleep past 7 this morning, so, go me (and Firefly and Rookie who both slept with me), for 8 hours plus of sleep, and I feel much more The Thing today, with a noticeable lack of I ache all over, which is a relief all by itself.

So, the heart monitor is annoying, though not for the reasons you might think. It’s tiny and weighs pretty close to nothing. The phone part of the package runs Hot Pepper (Android 12), which isn’t that many generations back. I think the Pixel 9 in my other pocket runs Vanilla Ice Cream (Android 15).

However, the phone is desperate for attention, and it every so often gets up on its hind legs and triggers the alarm for Poor Skin Contact! Which is my cue to reboot, which mysteriously solves the problem for another three hours or so. Aside that, I do have to be careful about cats who want to sleep on my chest, and also Rookie, who thinks that Thing Two (the spare unit that’s kept on the charging cord on the night table) is some kind of weird cosmic spider that needs Serious Killing.

I have some letters to answer today, including a request for a “good” picture of Steve to be included on the page dedicated to the Steve Miller Memorial Poetry Contest. I have … a few … pictures of Steve, but none from his Performing Poet Period, that having predated my intrusion into his life. We may have to go with a paper plane, if I can find that one.

Other than that, I’m really wanting to do some work today, so maybe I’ll take the spare loaf out of the freezer, after all, in the spirit of limiting distractions.

What are you doing today that’s fun and/or interesting?

Ah.  Paper plane:

There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole

What went before: 1,266 new words — not too bad for a woman who thought she was going to sit down in the comfy office chair, open the laptop and — fall asleep.

I b’lieve I will be ordering in a Garmin tracker. The insurance may pay for it, and even if not, the stress of the sporadically working FitBit is — stressful. And it’s something I can do something about.

The insurance bill for the car and the house has landed, so I’ll be writing that check before I use the money for something foolish, like buying a dozen eggs. Couple other pieces of snail that I need to deal with came in, too, though nothing particularly urgent.

Tomorrow, I need to go visit the cardiologist so they can glue one of those heart monitors to my chest for 30 day. Yes, yes; I did do this before. The doctors are bored. Or fishing. It would be nice if they got bored of fishing.

I note that I am Out of Cookies. That was careless of me. OTOH, maybe I’ll make scones tomorrow morning, so I’ll have something nice to eat with my tea when I come home from the cardiologist.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Until. . .

Tuesday. Glowering and cold at the moment. Beans are calling for a high of 51F/11C. We’ll see.

In the meanwhile, breakfast was homemade wheat bread toast, cream cheese, grapes. As I remarked to Rook, who was sitting on my lap at the time, “These grapes ain’t nothin to write home about, so it’s a good thing we’re already here.’

I’ll take the trash and recycling to the curb as soon as I finish my first cup of tea and find my shoes.

Oven heating for scones.

My arm that received the booster shot hurts. I realize belatedly that it is my left arm. I’m usually more careful than that, but — can’t really get a re-do. And thinking about it — I kind of ache all over, which I ascribe in equal portion to the COVID shot and fifteen trips up and down the cellar stairs in service of getting things to where they needed to be.

After I put the trash out, get the scones in the oven, and do my duty to the cats, I’ll look over what I wrote yesterday, and add in all the names that I had forgotten since the last time I used them.

The cats felt that 5 hours and 10 minutes of not-particularly-restful sleep was enough for me. On the one hand, I would have liked more sleep. On the other, I was having some very anxious dreams, which makes me feel like that guy who complained the food wasn’t very good and the servings were too small.

All that said, I’m angling to go to bed early tonight, given that the Things I have to accomplish are inconveniently timed for fitting in a nap.

It’s good to have A Plan.

How much sleep did you get last night?

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Right before he started chewing on my head — that’s head, not hair — Trooper gave me to understand that There Was No Food In the Bowls. As we see here, Trooper was exaggerating slightly:

Oh, today’s blog post title brought to you by Odetta and Harry Belafonte, “There’s a Hole in the Bucket.”