Tag: coon cat logic

Monday Evening

So, Rookie is at the vet. I stopped at the food store on the way back and took on supplies. Came home, put said supplies away (It had used to be, in the Beforetimes, when only one of us went to the store, that, when they returned, they would call, “Lucy! I’m home!” and thus gain assistance in the Putting Away, which also served to inform They Who Had Not Shopped what was new in inventory. Hard habit to break).

I have consulted with Firefly in her melant’i as Top Cat, confirming that staffing is reduced, but that I will be away for parts of the day, so the workload balance for those present will still be within the Union guidelines. I also confirmed that she is not required to redraw the Organizational Chart at this time.

Since I was at the store, I bought cookies, that being one of the necessities I was out of, and have performed a Quality Control test consisting of half a cookie (they’re big cookies), and will now proceed with Monday’s chores, of which the first is!

Writing to my physician.
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Sigh.

Meant to say that the perambulating package is on the truck to be delivered today.

Also meant to say that both Hummer Bars are enjoying good patronage.
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Home from bookclub. Our next book is Edison’s Eve by Gaby Wood. I have read this before, but it’s been a decade, so I’m looking forward to re-reading. I was Riveted when I first read it.

I have! An appointment for a haircut on Saturday at 9 am.

I have! One very damp and extremely cranky black Maine Coon Teenager, who reportedly sat in the vet’s back room and swore non-stop the entire time he was there, and growled at his vet.

The good news — there’s nothing wrong with his mouth or throat. He has a lot of gas, and theory at this point is that he has — a stomachache. Vet administered an anti-nausea, and I’m to report in tomorrow morning.

It’s hot out.

I should probably get a little something to eat…
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Who had “sent back to the sorting center” in the Perambulating Package Pool? If it was you, hold onto that ticket!

When last we heard from the package, it was inside my local post office, and this morning it was promised to be delivered by 9 pm.

However! In a shocking turn of events! When the mail arrived, the package was not among the pieces delivered.

I came back into the house, brought up Informed Delivery — and found that the package was on its way to Augusta — South, in other words.

I have spoken with a live human at the local post office, who has the tracking number, my name, and phone number and is going to be “monitoring” this delivery for me.

Whatever that means.

In other news, we’re to the chopping and freezing onions part of the festivities. Rookie came up to my lap on his own and let me dry him off. He’s still drooling but only a very tiny amount, so maybe the anti-nausea was what he needed.
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We were just having a conversation about home inspections for what was called when we moved to Skowhegan “town housing,” the direct descendant, as I believe I understand the matter, of the “town farm.”

In any case, housing inspections, and the things inspectors might look for — holes in the walls, garbage just lying around, too! much! stuff! imperiling foot traffic, dirty dishes in the sink…

All of which seems reasonable, except — I’m going to need to leave dirty dishes in the sink for the second day in a row — those being yesterday’s dishes — because my back wishes to register a complaint. I will therefore remake the bed, so I can sleep in it tonight, and then retire to a comfy chair with a heating pad, a book, and a glass of iced tea.

And remember to be grateful that I am not in a situation that means I have housing inspectors in my life.
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Evening wrap-up.

Fans of Rookie will be encouraged to learn that he has stopped drooling, his stomach is soft, and he had sweet words of flattery in his mouth when he came into my lap as I was reading. Apparently, I’m to be rewarded as a Hero for breaking him out of That Place. I was also allowed to comb the random sticky bits out of his mane. He and the girls have just finished a good happy hour and are now taking their ease in Steve’s office.

Back pain is slightly above the Ignorable Level, which is not what we prefer, and I’m kind of tired, so it will likely be an Early Night for This Hoomin.

The Perambulating Package is “processing” at the USPS in Augusta, 20 miles in a southwardly direction.

Tomorrow, I need to organize my reading. I have a little less than 100 pages left to read of Horngard before I may craft a quote that is a little more substantive than “Read this book, it’s good!” I also need to read the WIP to date and start (re)reading Edison’s Eve. Hopefully, I will be able to attend the craft meeting tomorrow evening. Oh. And I need to do the dishes.

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

Monday morning

Monday and sunny and starting to warm up for tomorrow’s run for the Coveted Dangerous Heat Rating.

I have a cup of tea with me here at the desk and in a couple minutes, I’ll be rustling up some oatmeal.

Many thanks to everyone who expressed concern about my back and yesterday’s blackberry removal. Two things about that:

(1) The bush really wasn’t rooted very deeply. I basically poked at it with the shovel (see mile-long thorns), and it fell over. I went back inside, got Steve’s leather gloves, came back out, gave it a very small tug, and it came out that easy. The root was long, but not torn or broken, so it may be that I’ve got it all, which would be very unlike Blackberries I Have Known, so I’ll Keep An Eye Out.

(2) My back is a crapshoot. Or possibly I mean an abuser. This is how it works: Mostly, it hurts. Mostly, because of my Superpower, I can, and do, ignore it. Sometimes a piece of Kryptonite comes along, and pain levels escalate to where I can’t ignore them, whereupon I am Utterly Undone and Complain Incessantly for, eh. Two or three days. The pain then subsides to the Baseline Ignorable Level and I get back down to business. I do try to plan and consider and not overtax my back, but really, nothing placates it, and there’s no observable reason for having one day where everything’s fine, for values thereof, and another day where it hurts my back if I blink. Back pain was Ignorable yesterday afternoon, so — business as usual. Mind, if the blackberry HADN’T fallen over when I poked it with the shovel, I wouldn’t have gone any further, because I’m not completely nuts, evidence aside.

THAT said, on to Important Issues, in fact — Rookie the Cookie. Rookie starting drooling last night, and he’s still doing so this morning. While my two ladies do drool when they’re VERY excited, this is is not at all Rookie’s Thing, and he just seems to be…dripping. I don’t see anything wrong with his mouth, but what do I know. So! Rookie has won a trip to the vet 4:15ish this afternoon, Just To Make Sure.

I have phone calls to make today, and I really do need to pick up some stuff at the grocery (which we, too, called the “food store” in my youth — someone said this yesterday. Also, my grandmother had an “ice box,” and I still default to that, to the bewilderment of Many, and even though I haven’t seen an actual ice box, nor ice man, for … most of my life, actually), so — probably no writing today, which as it happens is just as well, because I had a Thought this morning that I really need to talk over with Steve. Lacking that, I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm.

What’s your news?

This just in: Rookie’s physician wishes to have him dropped off by 10, rather than brought in at 4, for Observation.

Guess I’d better find that breakfast I was talking about.

She wants a car with a cupholder armrest

Saturday. Sunny and not going to be quite so hot.

Had a good sleep and a fine dream just before waking. Steve and I had been given the happy news that we were being given a permanent residence and needed to move out of our temporary apartment. We were in the process of this when something I don’t quite understand happened to divert our attention to what was perhaps a police action. However, by the time we had been called to assist in that, we had moved our stuff- we seemed to have a lot less stuff in the new situation- and located our cat, who was on the other side of the parking lot. Steve got the cat inside just as the call for our attention came in.

It was a puzzling dream but not particularly unhappy or fraught.

I woke up soon after and my back didn’t hurt, but that’s changed now. This is getting old.

I’ve sat longer in the window than I meant but I had Firefly’s attention for some time, and since she had quite a lot to say, I figured not to interrupt her.

I’m planning on scrambled eggs for breakfast and then going to write. I thought I was going to Oxford today for the gem show but I think that’s off the table.

For those following the Perambulations of the Package, as of this morning it had made its way from the Rochester NY sorting station to the Northwest Rochester sorting station (which seems to be the wrong direction, but perhaps it’s a matter of “North” trumping “West”), and the United States Post Office disavows any knowledge of when it may arrive… anywhere.

Firefly has cleared my lap, Tali has visited briefly, and also moved on.

My first cup of Russian caravan tea is gone. Sounds to me like I ought to go find breakfast.

How’s everybody doing today? See less
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So, that’s 1,130ish new words written, bringing the WIP to +/-25,525, finally breaking 25,000 words, something I’d thought I’d see much earlier in the week.

I need to do my duty to the cats and then, I believe I shall, oh. Eat something. And then sit in the window and read my book.
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I have progress to report!

I ate lunch, for definitions of lunch. I unloaded the dishwasher and put the dishes away! I reloaded the dishwasher from the sink full of dirty dishes! And! I did the dishes that can’t go into the dishwasher.

Now, of course I’m exhausted, but that’s what my book is for.

When I sat down in the comfy chair in Steve’s office, Rookie immediately threw himself into my lap so I guess I’m here for awhile.

Today’s blog post title is from Cake: “Short skirt, long jacket“.  Yes, again.

Diary of a challenging few days

I have, apparently, been having too much fun, and my back decided to take revenge.

Deets below, but first — have some day lilies:

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Wednesday:
And today’s snippet to live by, from Diviner’s Bow: A contract negotiation between a master trader and a trader. The master trader has just asked if the trader has reviewed the proposed contract and found it sufficient. She replies that she wishes to change one thing.

“You astound me,” [the master trader murmured]. “Expose, I pray, the contract’s deficiency.”

“I found no deficiency. Merely, I wish to amend the initial period to three Standards, rather than six.”

“Six Standards is our usual term,” Shan said, sternly.

Padi opened her eyes wide.

“Is it, indeed?” she asked wonderingly.

Shan laughed. “I taught you that,” he said.
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Thursday. Sunny and going to be hot.

Yesterday afternoon fell apart in a big way because my back started hurting, and it all went downhill from there.

On top of the pain, or because of the pain, I have had a very dicey stomach and today seems to be more of the same. Sitting in the window right now with Kelly on my lap and a cup of well honeyed ginger tea. Pretty soon I’m going to have to figure out something to eat.

Hope everybody is feeling better than I am. I’ll check in as can.
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Friday:
Business first: “Kelly” cited in yesterday’s posting to the internets, is actually Tali. Speech to text is not always very smart.

Well. Friday. Sunny, though the weather beans insist that it’s cloudy.

Woke up this morning pain-free! I immediately started making plans more fool I, though I did manage to eat food for breakfast before my back started in again. So win, I guess, and I really do need to eat, before I get to the point where I just don’t bother, a known danger which needs to be avoided at all costs.

To be fair, my back still doesn’t hurt as much right now as it did yesterday, even yesterday evening when I convinced myself to eat an apple tart with ice cream, on the theory that even dessert is better than no food at all.

I had hoped that I would be able to write today and I’m still trying to figure out how to make that happen. On the one hand, it doesn’t do anyone any good to just sit at the desk and stare, so the first assessment should be: Is my brain clear enough to allow me to write? And I guess the first test for that is sitting in the office chair and seeing if it hurts so much that I can’t think.

What fun.

I should report that Tali is very much in favor of the sitting/ lying around doing nothing schedule. She’s been my more or less constant companion in this. The other two have given up in fustration, and I really can’t blame them for that.

I did yesterday finish listening to Neogenesis, and I must report a notable lack of “AI technobabble.” Also? Boy, does a lot happen in that book! It’s a trilogy all by itself.

I’ll be taking a break from Liaden books for the next while to read Hornguard by Elizabeth Moon, which I’m looking forward to.

And now that my teacup is empty and Tali has gotten up to have a wee snack, I guess I’ll go back and see how the desk chair likes me.

I hope everyone is having a lovely Friday.

PS. Apologies in advance for typos (voice-os?) that may appear in the above.
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Later that same day:  Sat with the manuscript and added about 500 words.

I’ve been alternating ice and heat every hour and a half, I guess, to try to help get my back to normal.

I have eaten lunch!

There are many chores that I should be doing– clearing the dishwasher, reloading it, putting things away and etc. That’ll happen later, by I which I mean–oh, tomorrow, or maybe even Sunday.

For now, I have dared a Tylenol against increasing pain, and hoping it won’t make me sick.

My plans for the afternoon are taking my book to a comfy chair, turning on the heating pad, and reading.

This is even more boring than writing all day. My apologies.
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This is one of Rook’s whiskers. It is four-and-three-quarters inches long.

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Sigh. So, I was warned a couple days ago to expect delivery of a package via USnail, which was not delivered and in addition vanished from Informed Delivery.  It showed up in the timeline again today as an expected delivery, so I went to look at it on the Informed Delivery page.

The package under question left Maryland on July 7, and made it all the way to the Southern Maine sorting center, from whence it was sent on to the Essex MA sorting center–which is to say in the Completely Wrong Direction. Essex decided to send the package to Rochester, NY, where it languished for a day or so before this morning hopping on a mail truck going north.

The package is still listed as Going to be Delivered by 9 pm today, which probably means to the local post office, and not my house, but even so.

Even so–it still needs to get through at least one, and probably two, sorting centers in Mass, then the Southern Maine sorting center, which is the center that sent it back to Mass in the first place.

I wonder if I should start a betting pool…
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And that’s what’s been going on at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory. Fingers crossed that this will all be History tomorrow.

The angels have stolen my red shoes

What went before: Sunday. Sunny, breezy, and … seasonal. Hopefully, the heat wave has broken. We’re not built for heat waves up here in the northlands.

At the end of today’s writing session, I can report that! (1) I wrote 1590 new words, and! (2) the WIP has broken 100 pages, standing at +/-23,700 words.

Time to eat lunch, do my duty to the cats and some housetending.

I was surprised at the relatively low fireworks action last night. There was a display at Rummel’s Field, a couple blocks over, which I could hear, and also see some of the sky displays out the front window. Next year, the trees will be tall enough to block them.

Rookie sat on the cat tree in that window, and watched the show. Firefly retreated to Steve’s office, and Tali valiantly stayed with me on the couch, pressed against my leg, ears twitching at each boom! Every so often, she looked at me with a kind of “Are you sure about this?” expression. I would squint my eyes, and she would sigh and put her head down again.

So, there’s that.

Tomorrow, I may go to the lavender farm in the morning. Or not. I am fluid as to timing. I do need to find particulars of the boat tour of the Messalonskee on Saturday, but I can’t call the Adult Ed office until tomorrow.

I hope everyone is having a relaxing day.
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Forgot I was out of bread. Guess I’ll make this box of Scottish Toasting Bread.
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A notable day. Not only did George RR Martin (if that really was you, George–thanks) write to praise Diviner’s Bow and the entire Liaden Universe, but Steve’s In Memoriam on the SFWA site lists as his co-author/wife some woman named Sharon Lee Miller.

OTOH, the bread’s out, and it’s being very hard to resist, and I’m working toward a solution for all the photographs Steve just pitched willy-nilly into paper boxes and shoved into the back of his closet. I had had a go at straightening them out a couple years ago, and gave up, but this time, I have A Plan of Attack, so maybe the photos can at least get ordered by Where/When Was This Taken, which will do for a rough first sort, and if I want to fine it down, I can do that later.

All that said, I’m kind of tired, so — shutting down for the evening.

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

Today’s blog post title comes to you from Elvis Costello, “Red Shoes.”

Saturday at the Cat Farm

Saturday. Sunny and not quite so hot as previous days.

I’m trying to up my daily word count, at least for this bit right here, where I really feel like I know all of our old friends Who, What, Where, and Why. So! The goal is 1,000 words for each writing session.

I do have some more Writer’s Days Off upcoming. Monday or Tuesday, for instance, I wish to visit the lavender farm in Appleton. And on Saturday, the boat tour of the Messalonskee I signed up for in Coldest January, will finally take place. Also, there’s the gem show in Oxford on Sunday. Which is almost looking like Too Much Fun, but! Summer is short and Winter is long.

Speaking of word count, today’s efforts produced 1,098 new words, for a WIP total of 22,110. Ish.

After lunch, which is up realsoonnow, I need to change out the cat fountains, feed the cats, scoop the boxes, and do some bookkeeping. A Theme!

Tomorrow, I may be able to return to writing after lunch, if I’m very ambitious this afternoon.

So! box lunch out of the freezer today. Yesterday’s hot dog from FiveGuys hit the spot, and the vanilla milkshake, too, so I should be good on the radioactive poison front for the next few months.

The cats all joined me in Steve’s office for my writing session, and they’re all still there, napping in sun puddles, and living their best lives. Or so I hope.

How’re you doing today?

Then I am the King of the Cats!

Nonsense first.  Back when, I collected retellings of “The King of the Cats.”  This one came across my FB feed last night.  I’m not sure the link will work, but on the off-chance:  The King of the Cats
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I’ve been needing a lot of extra therapy sessions lately.  Happily, my counselor is flexible:

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Monday. Sunny and starting to warm up toward our climactic Unsafe Heat Event, scheduled for Thursday.

Plans for the day include calling the peach ripe, cutting it up and having it for breakfast with cottage cheese. Because I can. After, I’ll go on back to Steve’s office and do some writing.

Yesterday afternoon went pear-shaped. I threw the bedclothes in to wash and the washing machine lost its mind — it entered the spin cycle, and then would start over with a rinse, over and over and over (the water district sent me a message last night that my water use was 2.5X over the average, and I might have a leak). I finally managed to get a half-spin, and dragged the soggy sheets out to the wooden laundry dryer I’d gotten out of the basement and set up on the (sunny at that point) deck, and — long story short; everything worked out, but I always feel like it’s somehow my fault when stoopid technical stuff happens, and that if Steve were here, it wouldn’t have happened.

Which! Is patently wrong, and I can very vividly remember several times when Technology Struck and Steve was standing Right There.

Given the above, I did not attempt to double-string my mobile, but settled down with my ice tea and a book, and then there was the non-thunderstorm, and from there it just all spiraled into an unhappy evening.

Hoping for better today.

I’m about 230 pages into Alliance of Equals, which I recall many people complaining about. So far, I’m finding it much better written than Dragon in Exile, which surprises me, and not at all off-putting. Of course, I don’t mind books that jump around, so long as the author makes clear where we are, and so far the author has done so. Well. Maybe it all falls apart at the end. We’ll see.

And all that said? I’d best get breakfast and start the day.

What’s the weather where you are?

And, for those who are still with me — here’s the rest of the story:

Half-a-Sunday

Sunday. Sunny and warmer than latter days.

This morning’s work was going through Kin Right in search of those errors and fixing them. I herewith report progress: One was not an error, merely the time has not yet arrived. The other two … can be explained, in-world, and therefore are not errors.

The last load of towels is drying and the bedclothes are washing.

I have retired the trade station while Further Thoughts are Thunk.

I believe that I shall, as they say, Take The Rest of the Day Off. Perhaps I shall descend to The Studio and have a go at double-stringing my stars. After that, maybe I’ll make a big glass of iced tea and read a book.

Decadence, thy name is Rolanni.

The cats are distributed thusly — Tali is in the box on the corner of Steve’s desk; Firefly is in her Usual Position at the top of Mount Circular Logic, also in Steve’s office. Both are napping.

Rookie is curled up on top of the cedar chest in my office. He is — surprise! — napping.

They may be on to something.

What are you doing today?

Addendum: Sigh.

<complaint> I am getting Deeply Tired of the folks who are convinced that every piece of writing that’s come out since Steve died is a “wrap up,” or “the final.” We’re not at The Final yet, right? I’ll tell you when.</complaint>

Of puffins, whales, and the futility of doing good

So, yesterday, I finally went and booked myself into a combo whale watch/puffin cruise.  That will be next Thursday, and I’m under orders to present myself to Cap’n Fish at crack o’dawn thirty so we can get underway.

Which brings us to — today!

Friday. Raining for a change. Sarah’s due in a couple minutes, and the generator guy is supposed to stop by to do his annual inspection of Station Systems.

Breakfast was cream cheese on toast with a side of cherries. Lunch will be leftover lentil-and-sweet potato stew that I managed to screw up when I was making it (put in twice too many lentils, and no, I’m not really sure how that happened). Still, it can be recovered, and so it shall at lunchtime.

So, the blood pressure med returned an amazing result for, eh? four days? And I’m back into alt. Stress is a remarkable force.

I found just recently that a person of known ill repute is seeking to align with my life’s work in order to make themselves seem legitimate and lovable. Said person has a history of harassing me, and the problem with the current tactic is that the target can’t even talk about it without sounding crazy, which is quite apart from the damage that can’t be blocked. Because the way these things work is that my lustre will not bestow grace, but will in turn be tarnished by this person’s actions.

I’m also in receipt of a contract for an interview, and my first reaction on reading it was “I wouldn’t sign this if it was a contract for a story.” Which, in essence, it is. So, that’s set aside for another reading in a day or two, in case the words rearrange themselves.

Also! I realized last night that I have made two errors — possibly three errors — in Kin Right that I ought to fix if I can, so have written to Baen Traffic with a query. And lucky I am that the book’s scheduled so far out.

Let’s see, what else?

Ah. The birds who nest in the rain gutter have returned, and Rookie is climbing the screen. Rookie being much bigger than he was last year this time, I expect the screen to shortly be in ribbons, so! New screen on the list.

Plans for the day include — writing! At least I know what the next scene is in the WIP, so there is that.

What’s the cat doing at your house, today?

Speaking of cats — yesterday, I had to call in my counselor, who was able to get me settled enough to write.  I may be making another call this morning.  Thank goodness I can pay her in tummy rubs.

 

City Livin’

Yesterday, I set up an Impromptu Crow Feeding Station, complete with a plateful of peanuts and a shiny Canadian dime.
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Impromptu Station, Thursday 6:30 am. I suspect squirrels.

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This is a cat whisker; it is five inches long. It was donated either by Firefly or Tali. Rook’s whiskers are black.


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Thursday. Sunny and going to be warm.

The Rule of Three is barely restraining me this morning.

Moving on.

An inspection of Impromptu Station finds that the peanuts are gone, and the dime remains. Having no better ideas at the moment, I have replenished the station, though at this point I’m doubtless just feeding squirrels. I’ve also entertained several requests from house finches for PEANUTS! so I shelled some and scattered them about. Turns out that aggressively shelling peanuts is a good outlet for anger.

And now, having been both put out, and put off schedule, I’m going to go get myself a piece of toast and go to — nope. I’m not. There’s another wasp in the house, so wasp removal first. That’s the third since last night. I wish I knew how they were getting in.

And how’s Thursday at your place?