Tag: coon cat logic

Proceeding in a Tuesdayish Direction

Tuesday. Trash and recycling set out and collected. The recycling bin is back in the garage. Breakfast was leftover leftover soup. Lunch will be … something.

Eleven hundred new words today, bringing the WIP to something approaching 53,490 words.

I was craven yesterday and did not attempt the Anthropic mess, so I have something to look forward to.

Tonight is needlework, and I’ll have to stop at the grocery on my way home — or perhaps I’ll do that tomorrow, since I have to be out early to a doctor’s appointment, anyway.

It occurs to me that it might be beneficial to find if there’s a sauna someplace near at hand. It might help with the ongoing aches and pains. I should also try to locate a reputable massage therapist. This is not a new thought, but every time I have it, I get overwhelmed by the “reputable” part. Well.

Oh. And I really do need to get a flu shot.

The cats are giving me a little more freedom today, so I’m guessing whatever it was that concerned them yesterday has passed off, so that’s good.

How’s everybody doing today?

Cats inna meeting:

 

One more thing . . .

So, a guy just rang the bell.

I didn’t recognize him, but he was looking kind of like he was lost, so I opened the door and asked if I could help him.

“Is this the Miller residence?”

“No,” I said.

He looked even more confused, looked around and said, “Where would that be, because I’ve got a package from — I dunno, dog food?”

And I said, “Oh. Yes, you have the right place.”

“Good,” he said, and fetched a much battered Chewy box out of the boot of his car and carried it inside for me.

I said, “The FedEx truck was in my driveway earlier today and left without leaving a package.”

And Howard — my benefactor’s name is Howard — said, “Well, I’ll tell you. That kid was in my driveway, an’ he was in no good mood. Pulled out in a hurry and that box fell right outta the door. I figured, y’know, dog food; the dogs’ll be wantin’ that, and the address was right there, so I brought it along.”

I thanked him profusely and he said he was just glad he could help me out.

So, that mystery solved.
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Also!  Rookie’s vet has texted that Rookie is cured of his temporary inconvenience, and I hope I’m not alone in saying, “Let’s not do that again.”

. . . OK — two things.

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

Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty

Finishing up on Monday:

And that’s 2,323 total new words outta the kid from Chicago, who has finally run out of steam. I’ll tuck it away for a couple days, if nothing else explosive happens. Jethri is getting a day off, and I? want a nap.

Yeah, that’s gonna happen.
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Well. Rookie suggested Guided Napping on the couch, and I took him up on it.

He’s really been working on his technique. Got a solid 45 minutes and feel human again. For values of “human” that include widowed writers beset by importunate characters.

I’ve got a few chores to do, but basically, I do believe I’m done for the day. I’ll read a few chapters of the bookclub book before it’s time to serve up Happy Hour.

Everybody have a good rest of the day. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Friday’s cat

This morning’s editor was paws-on:

Friday. Sunny, breezy and cool as I type here in Steve’s office, both sliders open to the day, and sleeping cats all around me.

Sarah has been and gone, leaving a clean house behind her.

I’ve written about 1,150 new words, but stalled because I have to Figure Something Out. The WIP right now stands a bare 170 words from 50,000. Well. Maybe I’ll Figure It Out and not only finish the scene, but cross over into Half Done, Optimists Edition.

For right now, and what will be a good assist in the Figuring Out Department, I need to put the house back together and decide whether or not I want to go to the grocery store. Actually, I don’t have to figure that out — I don’t want to go to the grocery store. What I have to decide is do I need to go to the grocery store.

First thing, though — put the house back together.

So. Are you going to the grocery store today?

People are strange

Editor Talizea Kennebec on duty:


Tuesday. Mizzling and cool. Trash and recycling are at the curb. The lawn guy arrived, did his thing, and vanished into the grey day.

Wrote a little over 900 new words, tweaked other words. The WIP Entire now weighs in at 46,275ish words, and it’s really feeling like A Thing, even while I feel like I’m channeling more than usual. I sit down at the keyboard thinking, “I got nothin‘,” and a thousand words later . . . Well. The fingers know, I guess. Or, like I said before, maybe Steve finally worked it out.

Regarding the genders and alikeness of numbers (yes, I’m still on this), someone at another place where I hang out said that when they were asked as part of an autism test how 7 and 9 are alike, their answer was “Seven and Nine are nothing alike” (implied, “as anyone over six can see). “Seven is (one color) and Nine is (another color). Seven is all angles and Nine is curvy, and they’re just not alike at all.” The suggestion being that this was, perhaps, a Bad Question for an autism test.

Frankly, I don’t think there are any Good Questions for an Autism Test, once someone has gotten to An Age, and made the accommodations that allow you to function Good Enough.

Honestly, if someone asked me, right now, in any context, how seven and nine are alike, I’d say that both are odd numbers. If I’d been asked when I was a kid, and before I knew the . . . I hesitate to say the “correct” answer, so let’s go with “the answer that would get me in the least amount of trouble”, I would probably have said that both were larger than five, or something along that line, this by way of trying to figure out what the adult wanted me to say. And to stay out of trouble. Kinda the driving force of my childhood, staying out of trouble. Not that I managed all that often.

I’ve managed to skin by in the Functioning Good Enough Competition by being an artist. People expect artists to be weird. Better, it’s seen as a Feature. Except by those people who haven’t thought it out, of which there are a surprising number, but even then, I have My Art to back me (as in, “You asked me here to give you a Creative Answer. Well, you got your wish, whether it ‘sounds crazy’ or not.”) Everyday Life is still an occasional challenge, but by this time in my life, I’ve had a lot of practice, and a Really Impressive Store of answers that will get me in the least possible trouble.

All that said–gotta do some chores.

How’s everybody feeling today?

Today’s blog post title loosely brought to you by The Doors, “People are Strange“

Sunday

Coon cats first:  The Breakfast Club

Sunday. Looking like it’s trying to make up its mind, is it going to rain.

About 1,000 new words on the morning, bringing the WIP to 44,150. Ish. May or may not write tomorrow, depending on how early I get up, I guess. Book club at 1; PT at 2:30. Lunch sometime or ‘nother.

The cats tried to tempt me back to bed after breakfast and I won’t say they weren’t persuasive, but — work to do. They finally came in to keep me company about the time I knocked off, and there they are all still.

Got mundane tasks to get rid of, some research to do, and some lunch to rustle up. Enough to keep me occupied, but not enough to be overwhelming. I’ll take it.

What’s doin’ at your place, today?
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Sigh. All the old war wounds are aching tonight, which is my cue to back slowly away from the keyboard and pour a Wine Venti.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. Remember to hug the people you love.

See you tomorrow.

Sleepy Tuesday

Tuesday. Sunny and warm. I’m exhausted, which has been a Running Theme since my last bad back episode. I’m really not sleeping well, and I recently recalled that, one of the gifts that Steve gave me was the ability to sleep. Before I met him, I slept, eh, maybe four hours a night? Because there was too much to be afraid of, and nobody to share the watch with me. Apparently, I’m reverting to type.

Well. that’s lowering.

One thousand six hundred and thirty-ish new words this morning, which brings the WIP to 41,900 words, total, which seems slightly surreal, but — onward.

The garbage truck just went by, so I’m for getting the recycling bin back to the garage, then doing my expanded duty to the cats, and — lunch.

Needlework this afternoon at the library, and I decided that, indeed I do need to be a member of Waterville Creates. I let the membership drop when Steve died, figuring it was an extraneous expense, but — apparently not. Which means that, while I’m downtown this afternoon, I need to drop by the Arts Center to pick up my membership packet.

I also remembered why “Coyote vs Acme” seemed so familiar to me — ‘way back in 2022 or so, there’d been word of this movie on the make, and in 2023, Warner Brothers decided the film would make them more money by being a Tax Break, and shelved it. The film makers went to war and only now, three years later, has WB allowed them the right to put the film into limited distribution. I remember saying to Steve at the time news of the Tax Break came down, “Are they nuts? That thing’s gonna earn the asking price on the next solar system.”

Sigh.

Hope everyone’s doing well on this fine Tuesday in August.

In which Monday is being Mondayish

So, no writing today, looks like. Got involved in disinfecting and suchlike, and am finally getting to lunch, which I made the Executive Decision to order in Drunken Noodles from the Asian Cafe. Should be here soon.

After Dunch, I figure I’ll find something to do, like, oh, the PT homework, which also went by the way while I was making the house Safe for Catkind.

I do have the Magic Dust, which is destined to be included in Happy Hour. I will note that, though I have Meds for All, only Rookie is looking at all under the weather. Still, a preventative dose for the girls can’t do any harm.

How’s the week starting out for y’all?

“Sir? Can we go?”

How the work day began:

All righty, then. Sunday. Sunny and warm, with a soft breeze.

Tali does good work. She got 1,020 new words outta me on behalf of the characters, and the WIP has broken 40,000 words.

I hereby declare this Good Progress.

There were exactly eight people in the audience at yesterday’s 4:30 show of Hadestown. I decided to do the thing right, and actually got a small bag of popcorn — buttered, of course — to go with my water. I haven’t had buttered popcorn for … probably decades. It was good.

I had, I thought, oversupplied myself with tissues, but it turned out that I had just enough.

Even though, yes — I know how it ends.

This time I was able to watch some of the stage work, which I really like to do, and also to admire the work of the chorus, and of the Fates — in particular the Fate who played the accordion. Good Ghod, that woman was menacing.

Also, the reason why Hades made that particular condition came home harder for me this time.

So! An afternoon well-spent. I stopped at the grocery on my way home and bought a frozen pizza to have with my wine. That was good, too.

Socks are currently drying, and I? Have had another brainstorm, which I will be acting on after lunch. Disposable litter pans complete with litter are A Thing, and if I take a few on, then I can make sure that the cats have clean facilities while the Magic Dust is working without having to Disinfect the World every day. I do believe my brain used to work faster than this, but I guess I ought to just be pleased that I got there, eventually.

The page magnifier arrived just a few minutes ago, and initial testing indicates that I made a good buy. For everyone who is trying to Help by suggesting that I get a Kindle or reading glasses —

1 I have a tablet with the Kindle app (among others), and it works swell. Only — Not All Books have electronic editions. And it happens that I have several of that class of book that I need to read.

2 I have reading glasses — all kinds of reading glasses! — and I agree that they Ought To Work. Only, they don’t. I have, honest, tried.

2A I had cataract surgery some time — a year, or more, I think — before Steve died.

I think that catches us up on the day. I’ll be going out after lunch, then coming home to work on stuff for my class. Tomorrow morning, I need to pick up the Magic Dust from the vet.

So! How are you spending the day?

Saturday on the run

Saturday. Raining.

It’s been a scrambling sort of a morning. I got a call from Rookie’s vet last night at just about their closing time. She wanted to tell me that Rookie has roundworms. (I thought this was a kitten thing, but apparently roundworms can stay dormant inside a cat for a long time. Who knew?)

Anyhoots, the vet was putting up some Magic Dust that I am to give to all three of the cats in their Happy Hour treats, starting Monday. This discovery means, among other things, that I’ll need to disinfect the existing litter boxes, and the best way for me and my back to accomplish this is just to change to new litter boxes, then clean the old ones thoroughly at my leisure, while they are locked away in the Goblin Room where No Cat May Come.

This meant that this morning I went to Chewy, as the path of least resistance (I only need one new litter box, as it happens; I have two that I can disinfect and make ready today), but Chewy can’t expedite, and — long story short, I’m hoping Fish Tails in town can accommodate me with an XL litter pan, and I’ll give them a call when they open at 10.

Also, it came forcefully to my attention last night that I really can’t read paper books anymore, so I need a page magnifier, which means? More shopping! Honestly, getting old is for the birds.

So, now having finished my shopping and my breakfast, I’m going to finally start my writing day.

How’s Saturday treating you — yes, you! — so far?
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I found a third, though smaller, “extra” litter pan, which I swapped out with one now in use, disinfected it with the other two “extra” XL litter pans, and so! All is in readiness for the Great Litter Pan Swap-Out, as soon as the first dose of the meds is administered.

I am at this point Completely Discombobulated, and have made the Executive Decision to Declare an Emergency Writer’s Day Off. I will be showering, eating lunch, and then going to see the 4:30 show of Hadestown.

Because I can.

. . . It comes to me that my current Smol Disagreement with the WIP is that I Wanna Know How It Ends, and guys in the basement aren’t forking over. Which, let it be said, they never do. Possibly, I’m a Tad Anxious because this is Steve’s Book, and I don’t wanna screw it up. OTOH, and in all fairness, we are presently on this road because Steve didn’t know how it ended, either.

Be a writer, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.