Proof of Life. Writing this morning, movie this afternoon. Movie is Hadestown.
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So that’s 1,085ish new words for a WIP total of 31,220ish.
Someone asked the other day if Trade Lanes had “ever been written.” I’m writing it now.
Now to do my duty the cats, call for a haircut, catch-up the blogs, and see about a pre-movie snack.
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Came around the corner to find that Rookie has made an art installation.
Sunday.
So I figured I was hale enough to do the shopping, which I was. I bought two different kinds of protein shake (so I can perform a taste-test), along with other needed supplies, along with Sanpelligrino Lime, and so-called ginger ale. Didn’t ginger ale used to Actually Have ginger in it, rather than “ginger flavoring”?
Though I was fit enough to get the shopping done, I am now, I suppose predictably, exhausted. Had some pudding after I got everything put away, and listened to a couple chapters of Salvage Right, which — writing a character with PTSD isn’t easy, but I think we did a credible job. Also? I do so love Seignur Veeoni.
In a couple, I’ll start the oven to heat lunch, and then I think I’ll concentrate on bookkeeping and mundane desk work, and correspondence.
The cats think I should take a nap, and they may be right, but, if that’s found to be the case, it will be after lunch, not instead of lunch.
How’s everybody doing?
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I see I forgot to update yesterday. Herewith, the cold news from Saturday:
A break for PT homework and to throw a load of towels into the washer.
This morning, I have been in the comfy chair in my office, Sitting With The Big Ideas. I have Notes. I have an inclination toward More Notes, so I’ll head back to the comfy chair after I finish this note and collect a cookie as my reward for doing my homework.
I’m working with notes that go back to 2022, at least, trying to identify recurring themes. I wish to honor Steve’s vision for what were his character and story, far more than it was mine. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds.
I had early cat assistance, but just before I broke for homework, Tali and Rook decided that I was well in hand, and took themselves off to Steve’s office to recharge. I know they’re recharging because they’re curled up in the plentiful sunspots.
On the health front, I have this morning decided not to take naproxen, which is really not something you want to be taking all the time, even given anti-nausea meds. So far, I’m maintaining at a whisker over ignorable levels, so that’s Good. Naproxen does have a long half-life, so I’m guessing any increased discomfort will start showing up this evening.
Interestingly, for values thereof, while I can concentrate on the WIP, and am doing good, sharp work there, for anything else, it’s an extremely fuzzy day in the neighborhood. I hate feeling stupid, OTOH, pay copy is being written and/or plotted, so — onward.
Looking at next week — The 1:45 showing of Hadestown on Monday, needlework, and on Friday, which would have been Steve’s 76th birthday, a morning nature cruise on the Messalonskee, if it doesn’t rain. Maybe, if I can keep to current levels, I’ll actually be able to get my hair cut by a professional some day next week, and before I take a pair of kitchen shears to it.
How’s Saturday treating you?
Saturday’s editor:
Well, that didn’t go exactly as planned. I of course did my duty the cats, took a smol, ungraceful walk, and ate lunch, but! When I reclined on the sofa, cocooned in the the second electric throw, pad and pen to hand, the fluffy warmth felt soooooo good that — I fell asleep. Awoke sometime later with a coon cat lounging down one hip and leg, a coon cat tucked against my chest, and a coon cat with her head on my head. Apparently we all needed a nap.
Got up and made pudding. Pudding is a good idea, go me. Washed such pots ‘n pans as there were, served up Happy Hour, and will in the sweet bye-n-bye return to the couch and — make a grocery list. I will tomorrow decide how that list will be accomplished, but a list is the first order of business.
Everybody have a good night. Stay safe. I’ll check in as can, tomorrow.
Today’s blog post title comes courtesy of Nathan W. Pyle’s Strange Planet. Link, which may or may not work.
For those who may not know the reference, another link
Friday.
Watched the 2010 Swan Lake last night (aka “the Swan Lake for our times”), after I decided that the production I was offered–The Velveteen Rabbit– was taking too much of my limited store of patience. My state of mind might have come over to Swan Lake, which was … not riveting, but certainly watchable, and I did watch it. I did not at all like the man who danced Prince Siegfried, and found the Black Swan much more compelling than the milquetoast–ahem–White Swan. Still, it took my mind off my problems for a while, so that was a thing.
Had a bad night, despite the best effort of cats, and only this morning realized that I have an answer to the problem of wanting to put heat on my back during the night. I have two heated throws, one of which now joins the bed furnishings.
Got grumpy on an email list, did PT homework, ate breakfast.
Wrote +/-660 new words, bringing the WIP entire to 30,145ish words. I’m still subscribing to the Write What You Know then fill in the scenes that are left mode of writing, and this morning I did leave a space for a chapter that has to be there, but the guys in the cellar haven’t gotten me the deets yet, and went on to write a scene I didn’t know I needed, until I looked at what my fingers were typing.
The cats were Very Pleased that I decided to join them at work, and they are still in Steve’s office, taking in the air from the sliders. I’m increasingly glad that I had the French windows replaced with the Andersen sliders. Yes, they were heart-stoppingly expensive, but the entire household is made glad by their presence.
I need to do my duty to the cats, then find something to eat. After, I intend to find someplace comfortable to sit-or-lie-down and try to work out some of the WIP’s future bits. I’m really enjoying the daily writing momentum. I’d like to preserve it, if I can, and give the whole Descent into the Slough of Despond a miss this time.
It’s a good plan.
How’s your Friday shaping up?
So, I’ve been seeing clips forever from the Royal Ballet Company’s production of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” and really enjoyed every one. It occurred to me yesterday that there must be a Whole Ballet streaming Out There Somewhere, so I went looking, finally finding it on Marquee, which I was able to subscribe to through Prime, and get seven! free days. Since “Alice” was leaving the service in 11 days, this seemed like a message from Euterpe, and I signed up.
I watched it last night, with Tali and Rook’s interested support.
Rookie’s Interested Support:
It was? Amazing. The very first ballet I’d ever seen. Since I still have six days, I’m inspired to watch more.
And that? Brings us to!
Wednesday
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail
And pour the waters of the Nile
From every golden scale.
How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spread his claws
As he welcomes little fishes in
Through gently smiling jaws.
–Lewis Carroll
Someone yesterday had said they’d never read Alice, and my wonder is, how did you manage to avoid it? And what did you make of the metaphors that, in my childhood at least were Everywhere.
I don’t think it was assigned school reading, though we were surely tasked with memorizing poems from the text. I particularly remember a poster of Alice talking with the Caterpillar, Your Viewpoint is looking over the Caterpillar’s shoulder, as he sits tall on his mushroom, hookah at his side, looking down at the girl who has grabbed onto the edges of the mushroom, trying to pull herself up — with a certain amount of success, as her shoes are slightly off the ground. I’m not sure what that poster was telling us to do, though I remember another, of the Cheshire Cat’s head and the word IMAGINE! beneath.
For my Ballet Conscious people — a question. How broad is the vernacular in the Royal Ballet’s “Alice?” I could follow it easily, but I know the story. How lost would I be, do you think, if I attempted a ballet wherein I didn‘t know the story?
. . .though, while I have this seven days of grace, I may well view “Swan Lake,” of which I’ve only seen bits. And, again, I know the story, and the music.
All that said — Frequent auditors of this space will recall that I swore off superhero movies, but last night I broke my word. That woman danced for two hours with only two intervals, which were certainly not long enough to count as “rest.” Eeep.
And now to find something to eat for breakfast.
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And in the realm of We Live in a Random Universe, the judge approving the Anthropic judgement is named Araceli Martinez-Olquin.
Back when I met Steve, he and his friend Drew had just started a business called Araceli Kari. As far as I ever knew, these were coined words meant to be easy to remember and also alien-seeming without being difficult to say. (Araceli Kari’s primary mission was to produce a newspaper — The Starswarm News — which reported from the Alterverse (fiction. Mostly.) and also featured New Science (fact). Steve roped me in to help him write classified ads from said Alterverse, which is where we found out that we could, and willingly did, collaborate.
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I wrote about 550 words, and may get back to it later.
Broke for PT homework and changing the water filter in the fridge, which has only been begging attention from the householder for the last two weeks.
Am trying to build a modified pillow fort on the couch, which may make it … less painful to watch television, and possibly even to write. Or at least be able to read. I really want to finish reading Horngard.
I do need to find something to eat, which is being annoyingly difficult to come to terms with.
I am going to buy a ticket to “Hadestown” — Monday coming. All that remains is to decide which show. If I have to stand at the back, it won’t be the first time.
And I think that’s the news — a little sparse, but some days are like that.
Hope everybody’s having a pleasant Wednesday.
I wrote new words. Eleven hundred new words, in fact, bringing the WIP entire to 27,888. So that’s a thing.
Yesterday’s visit to the walk-in clinic was both lowering and interesting. Interesting: The walk-in clinic Does Not Prescribe pain relief medication. They do prescribe muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.
The PA sent me to the hospital for an x-ray of my back, just to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently broken something since the last time my back was x-rayed. As I had not broken anything, I was given a prescription for muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.
Since one is strongly discouraged from taking T3 and muscle relaxants, I have broken into the (still in date) naproxen left over from last year (because now I have anti-nausea medication, in case naproxen turns ugly), and took the first dose this morning. The muscle relaxants are to be taken at bedtime, and I perhaps have seen a slight lessening of the pain — well. I was able to write new words today, and do all of the PT homework, instead of just the Good Parts, so, yes, muscle relaxants had an effect.
I have also unearthed a crazy little hand massager (a big plastic marble in a holder) that I’ve been running firmly over the hurtin’ bits, and also still with the lidocaine roll-on (yes, I know about lidocaine patches. Have you ever tried to put a goopy, floppy, patch on your own back? Sticks to itself. Sticks to your hands. Sticks to your clothes. To your back? Not so much. And that’s without mentioning the necessity to twist around with an aching, spasming back, trying to get the fool thing in place.)
The clinic’s diagnosis (this is the “lowering” part of the program) is bone spurs, aka “small anterior osteophytes” and “mild mid thoracic spine spondylosis,” which is age-related, degenerative arthritis, and therefore nothing to be done, save what I’ve been doing, and wait for the flare to ease up or I manage to increase my ability to ignore pain.
(Aortic atherosclerosis was also noted, as an aside. This is not New news, and aside from being separate from the reason I was at the clinic, I’m thinking it wasn’t mentioned verbally because the plaque level hasn’t reached the Magic Number yet.)
Onward.
Ellen Richmond is yesterday’s hero. She brought me to the clinic, the hospital, CVS, and picked up the prescriptions. Later in the day, Beth and Steve Symonds stopped by to replenish the cookie supply, which was much appreciated.
I now need to figure out something that looks like lunch, and whether or not I’m going to take a nap, after.
Rookie is clinging like a clingy coon kitten, which–he really is too big to curl up between my cheek and my shoulder, but he’s doing it anyway.
So, there’s my news.
What’s your news?
Tuesday. Raining half-heartedly. ‘beans are still calling for “near record high” heat, with indexes “near 100,” with bonus Violent Thunderstorms with damaging winds and hail, and perhaps a surprise appearance of a tornado, for the overnight.
Trash and recycling are at the curb.
Slow getting started today, despite a long sleep fully supervised by Coon Cats. Both ladies piled in immediately I had pulled the covers up, and Firefly tucked up against my stomach, which she never does, purring to shake the bed, while Tali made her very solid presence felt at my back. I woke up a couple times and they were still in place. Firefly, apparently noticing the change in my breathing, started purring again in a blatant effort to make me go back to sleep.
It worked.
Rookie seems to have spent a peaceful nightshift in his basket on the edge of Steve’s desk.
Rookie is not drooling this morning–his fur is dry and his eye is bright–and I have called his physician to report this.
I have a note from my physician, agreeing that the arrangements I have made with lisinopril dosing times and lifestyle adjustments have, indeed, produced a more seemly sustained level of BP readings, and has given his permission to stay the course. Which means I get to stick with 10mg rather than leaping into a double dose. So, that’s good.
Once I have dispatched this note to the internets, I will be doing the dishes and performing my duty to the cats.
Unless the fog in my head melts, I foresee a day of chores before heading out to crafting. Which means the house will be straight, and I can concentrate on writing Wed-Thurs-Fri.
That’s also good.
Back pain is at the Ignorable Level–three goods in a row. Not really very interested in eating food, despite the effort I made to have tasty things in-house, so that’s — worrisome, but not particularly novel.
The Perambulating Package is still being “assessed” in Augusta, and nobody’s committing to a delivery date.
And all that said — Onward.
What’s the weather where you are?
And! A picture of Rookie from last evening, post Happy Hour
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 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.
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.