Tag: coon cat logic

The cat wants to sleep with Anthony, not with me

Supervisors be supervisin’

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Not a very satisfactory afternoon, alas.

Back and knees hurt from PT, which meant that it was hard to concentrate, and though I did write a scene, I fear it is the wrong scene, but I’ll look at it tomorrow.

I clipped Tali’s front claws, but when I tried to do the same for Rook, he hissed at me, which was very lowering. For both of us, apparently. He’s now trying to pretend that it never happened, but his claws still need to be clipped. Tomorrow, I’m thinking.

Speaking of tomorrow — the ‘beans are calling for mid-50sF and rain, with an overnight low of 23F, so that‘s going to be a fun 6am drive on Saturday morning.

I believe I will be having an Early Night and a sleep-til-I-wake morning.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by! “Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day,” written by Judith Viorst, illustrated by Ray Cruz.

Tuesday updatery

Tali wants everybody to know that I was properly supervised this morning as I wrote:

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Tuesday. I have new glasses. Except for a change in color — the old glasses were blue, these are a silvery pink — they look pretty much the same. Titanium frames. The prescription pulls the right eye into line, as it continues its descent back into nearsightedness.

Regarding the read-along — thanks to everyone who chimed in to say that their idea of reading along matched mine, and we will hope that those who were afraid they’d miss something unless recorded due to their work schedules and whatnot are now relieved to know that we’re text-based, and they can check in whenever they have time.

So! People of the Read-Along, I ask your input. Do you prefer order or chaos? Which is to say, shall we commit to reading, eh, 50 pages a week, and look for an update on Monday afternoon? Or do you prefer that I just comment as I go along, and you’ll catch up with me?

Please state your preference in comments.

 

In which the author nips the bud

Monday evening. Book club was fun, though we were down a member, due to Life, and we did not chose another book.

Came home and had about an hour to spend with the WIP, but! Absent taking out the trash first thing, I don’t have to be anywhere or do anything until 5 pm, so tomorrow morning is Bidness as Usual.

I? Think I’ve figured out why so many people are wanting in on my Liaden Universe® read-along, and I am going to nip this in the bud right now.

Ready?

BUD-NIPPING ANNOUNCEMENT: No, I am not reading 27 Liaden novels outloud. If this is what “read-along” means to the Greater Internet, I apologize, and will now explain what I mean when I say “read-along.” I take as my model in this, Humpty Dumpty from Alice.

What I am going to do is read — read — the existing Liaden Universe® novels, starting with Agent of Change and going through to Diviner’s Bow, in Publication Order. I will post my thoughts as I go along, and those who had decided to read along with me may comment on my comments.

I am not (that’s NOT) reading them aloud, live or to a recording. Why not? Because reading aloud is a performance, and I don’t want to perform, I want to read for understanding, and hopefully, pleasure.

I haven’t set it up yet, but my reading notes will most likely appear on Splinter Universe. I haven’t gotten much further in my considerations than the vague idea that I’ll post a link whenever I’ve made a new post.

I’m looking at a start date of January 1 2026, and I will, as above, be starting with Agent of Change, first published as a Del Rey Books Mass Market Original, with a cover by Stephen Hickman, in February 1988. I was 35; Steve was 37.  It was our first novel, but not our first collaboration, and it hit the bookstores in December 1987, where it could be purchased for a whopping! three dollars and fifty cents, US.

Here endeth the Bud-Nipping Segment of Tonight’s Entertainment.

Everybody have a good evening; stay safe. I’ll look in tomorrow.

Here, have a picture from my annual review:

Sunday evening 5 pm

All righty, then! Sunday. Cold and grey with snow showers.

Breakfast was — all together now! — hummus, naan, and grapes. Lunch will be a box of something, on account I’m lazy, and also because I’ve got a buncha RL stuff to cope with on my desk.

I also feel kinda pillow fort-ish. No particular reason, except that Steve has now been dead longer than he’s ever been dead before and I am Not Preferring this narrative.

Writing is over for the day — 1,377 new words, bringing the entire WIP to something around 104,110. Caught myself being unkind to same, which is too easy to do when it’s Just You. It is of course, not just me, and I would like to recognize Tali’s support — she came over and cleaned my eyebrows for me, which was … strange, but well-intentioned, and I did feel better for it.

Tried to watch Miss Scarlet last night, and didn’t quite make it through the first episode. Maybe I’ll try Bridgerton.

What else? Oh, the plaque sellers are out in force. Honestly, I’ve never understood why I need a plaque to commemorate the publication of a book when, yanno, I have the book?

There are an Incredible Number of People who are counting themselves IN on the Liaden Readalong. We probably need a theme song. I’ll try to draft some Rules of the Read today, or tomorrow, so people can take a look and offer fine-tuning, if any.

And that’s all I’ve got at — well, lunchtime.

Speaking of which — oughta go do that.

How’s your Sunday going?
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OK, so that’s it for the day. I didn’t get everything done, but really, when does that happen?

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

The Late Wednesday Report

As previously advertised, it’s snowing. I asked Google what the snow accumulation was going to be and it said, “One-point-three-seven inches,” and I know it’s just messing with me.

The WIP now weighs in at +/-100,700 total words, with more words yet to be written. Despite my having removed manymany words, this is still going to be a long book, as we here in the Liaden Universe(R) count book length. I apologize in advance.

The name of the belly dancer whose clip I shared on FB the other day is Rachid Alexander and at least one 10-minute performance is on youtube. In case anybody might be interested.

In other news, I’m out of cookies. I’m not sure how this keeps happening. Probably the cats eat them when I’m out running errands.

Michael Carbonaro, a magician, is coming to the Waterville Opera House in March and I wanna go see him, because — Magic! Show! OTOH, I’m looking at the prices and — eep. Well. He’ll prolly sell out without any help from me.

I am going to have to call the lawyers handling the Anthropic business and get myself to a humanbean. It transpires that my affairs are not straightforward, what a surprise, and I’m running out phucks to give, which — it would be smart to continue with the giving of phucks for a little while longer.

So! Since I’m done writing early today, and the lawyers are in Seattle, where it’s just after lunchtime, I s’pose I’ll get on the phone.

Bah.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow as can.

Oh, Firefly was caught on camera, Helping:

Story time

So, I spent an hour, or maybe a little more than an hour this morning in my writing space, looking for the place where Talizea yos’Phelium is born (Ghost Ship, as it happens, first published in August 2011, and if the Liaden Universe® ran on Real World time, Lizzie’d be cabin boy, or maybe at Scout Academy, instead of walking, now, except when she don’t.)

One of the things that my search convinced me of is that I really should sit down and read All the Liaden Books, which I’ve never had time to do.  I still don’t have time, unless I want to dedicate my free-time reading in 2026 to the Liaden Universe®.

Anyway, what with looking for Lizzie’s birth, and checking another couple of pertinent events, I only wrote about 700 new words.  However!  I did write, and I have the supervisors to prove it:

Lunch was broccoli cheese soup, riffing off of a recipe in the insurance company’s newsletter.  Then I had correspondence to tend to and real life chores, plus PT homework.  I went downstairs eventually to do my duty to the cats, and take a walk.

Then before going back upstairs and maybe getting some more words written, I peeked into My Studio to look at my project, and said, “Oh, I’ll just cut one piece,” which — you know how this goes, right?  Right.  I cut out all the rest of the pieces.  The next step is grinding, but that really does need to wait until I get this draft done.  This will be easier to police than the cutting, since I don’t have a grinder here at home, but will need to rent a studio-with-tools at the glass shop in Manchester.

Tomorrow, now free of driving back and forth to Brunswick, is a Writing Day, and I have lots of leftover soup, so I won’t actually have to stop for more time than it takes to heat up a bowl and cut a piece of bread. I have two scenes sketched in, so I’m hopeful of a productive day.

For this evening, Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served — and appears to have been consumed — I’m all caught up on everything  (except calling for a haircut, which for some reason I keep forgetting to do) so!  I believe I’ll pour myself a glass of wine and go read for a bit.

Everybody have a good evening.

 

Out and About

Wednesday. Grey and looking cold outside. I have not yet been outside by reason of the plowguy (All Hail, the Plowguy!) came by when I was still  snuggled in bed under a pile of blankets and three coon cats, to plow the drive and clear the steps.

Looking out over the Long Back Yard, it does seem like we might have gotten another couple/four inches after I threw the towel in last night, so the weatherbeans have redeemed themselves. A Long Slllloooowwww Snow.

PT at 8:00, then the grocery. I need gas before I go to Brunswick, but that doesn’t have to happen today.

Let the calendar show that today was the First Official Donning of The (short) Snow Boots, and the winter jacket (not to be confused with the Big Coat).

And that’s all I got for the moment.

Hope everybody’s having a good morning.
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Aaaaand back.

It is now sunny and bright and the snow is melting off of Surfaces, which is all good until it freezes up this evening.

PT was PT — did a couple laps on the sit-down elliptical (it has a name — NuStep? — but it wasn’t important and I don’t remember it), had tutoring in at-home exercises. I do have an appointment next week, oh! and the week after. So, not so bad with the timing as I had imagined. That’s good.

After PT, I went to the grocery store, where I bought more than was on the list, though not a wreath, because really, Hannaford? Those are some flea-bitten wreaths y’all are wantin’ the earth for. Instead, I brought the groceries home, put them away, and went over to the Agway in Winslow, and bought a on-clearance wreath, then, since I was out and spacing around anyway, I put gas in the car.

Let the record show that I used the Google Wallet for the first time to pay for my wreath at Agway.

Came home and had a mug of hot chocolate and a cookie (I see cookie-making in the future), which maybe could spoil my lunch, if I had any idea what lunch was gonna be, but since I don’t, that’s not an issue.

The cats and I will decorate the wreath this evening.

Speaking of cats:

Easing back into RL

I hate to waste a Buzz Lightyear stamp on the quarterlies (yes, I pay my fourth quarter in December), but that’s all I seem to have.

Also, it’s almost 11 hours from here to North Towinda NY, which — I’m trying to remember how we did that? Surely we didn’t go through Canada? I mean, we might — Oh. Wait.

We went via Pittsburgh.

Maine to Pittsburgh for Guest of Honor gig at CONfluence, then to North Towinda to the Herschell Museum, then to Niagra Falls, late, because that museum is awesome and we got lost for hours, and if you’re ever near enough for it to be even a tiny bit feasible, Do. It.

I remember coming home via Saratoga Springs, so that would have been 90 to 295.

Well. I’m glad I got that straightened out.

Looks to be more snow than mix outside, so, yeah, that’s still happening.

Maybe a cup of hot chocolate before I go down to cut some glass…

Firefly shared her blanket with me, even though I did not share my hot chocolate with her.
So that’s today’s fun with glass. I’d like to say I’m getting better, but what I’m actually doing is less “man that was awful” and more “that was a good cut.”

It’s now raining, and I’m thinking I should investigate the theory of lunch.

 

 

 

 

 

I think I’ve had enough fun for one day. I’m going to sign off, watch the last installment of Magriet, serve up Happy Hour when it’s time, read and go to bed on time. Tomorrow — is tomorrow.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. Watch out for black ice.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

There are stars in the southern sky

Monday. Bright and cold.

Breakfast was two eggs scrambled with leftover cauliflower and broccoli, with sausage, and a piece of whole wheat toast. A Big breakfast, but it’s a biggish morning.

Trash and recycling are in the garage, preparing themselves for tomorrow’s journey to the curb. Dishwasher is doing its thing. Cats suspect that Something Is Up.

I’ll be getting on the road to the cancer center and my chat with the Survivalist as soon as I finish my second mug of tea. I’ll be early, but I don’t have Steve’s genius for split-second timing, so better early than late.

I’m having a lot of fun with the Thursday Murder Club, and having never seen the show, only read complaints about how it “did not live up” to the books, despite the excellent cast — I have Some Thoughts About that.

The voice of the book — aka “the narrator” — is hysterical and unless the show (again, never seen it) has a voice over telling you what, oh, Ian’s thinking, and how he’s thinking it, viewers are missing an important facet of the story, and expecting the actors to carry the whole weight themselves isn’t really fair.

. . . and that’s my second mug empty, so I’m off.

I hope everyone’s having a good morning. I’ll see you on the flip side.

Back, having gone the long way home — through Bar Harbor. I had somehow expected the town to be open. I mean, people live on the island. To be fair, some things were open, for instance the Village Green Cafe, where I got my lunch (grilled ham and cheddar on multigrain with blueberry ice tea), but I hadn’t expected the relative emptiness.

Also, I had not come dressed for ocean-side chill, so my window shopping was limited. However, I’m glad I did not just go Straight Home like a Good Do-Bee. And, besides, I need to keep in practice with driving longish distances (that was, eh, 220 miles on the day). She said virtuously.

The Survivalist is a dream. We have a yearly check-in plan in place, as well as an agreement that I may call upon her for various things, and reassurance that I had NOT screwed up by wearing my compression gloves when my hands hurt. And I got points for asking a good question.

I believe I have all my Stuff for Thursday in-house (well, except flowers. I forgot flowers. Oh, well.), so that’s good. I haven’t gotten a wreath, either, because I just can’t make myself buy a wreath before Thanksgiving. It’s just … wrong.

The cats inform me that I missed three — or possibly four — check-ins today and that they are not disposed to be lenient. I was immediately tasked with rubbing Tali’s ears, and scrubbling Rook’s belly, and picking up Firefly for an All-Grown-Up Hug. I draw the line, however, at moving Happy Hour up by an hour and a half.

What did y’all do today?

Today’s blog post title comes from The Eagles, “Seven Bridges Road,” which I can never resist singing along with the acapella parts, though I really ought to always resist singing.