Now it’s Monday morning

What went before: I may have straightened out the timeline. Maybe.

In other news, I wrote about 1,000 words, recasting a scene impacted by the timeline kinks.

The cats are *not* demanding Happy Hour, and I’m wondering if I just out to let it run out to new-8:00. Hmm.

Also — I re-re-re-&c-read The Thirteen Clocks, which is every bit as silly and beautiful as I remembered.

Monday. Snowing.  Of course, it’s snowing.

Breakfast is oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts, with tea. Lunch will have to take care of itself.

COVID shot at 10:30, followed by foraging, since I’ll be in the grocery store, followed by We’ll See How It Goes.

Nothing really more to report.

What’re you doing today?

Cat pictures in lieu of content:

Monday morning you sure look fine

What Went Before: Aaaaaand back from ASL class. I remember a little bit of finger-spelling and some signs, but I’m sloppy, and need to clean up my act. Fun doing something that’s not writing, in any case.

My package from the Royal Mail arrived, however, the Royal Mail thought I was gonna sign for it, and sent me instructions to be on-hand. Our local carrier wasn’t interested in getting out of his jeep in the wet, so he just tossed it in the mailbox. No harm done, and the package is in the drawer.

The cats were in post-Happy Hour places when I came home and were initially startled. Then Trooper got with the program and started demanding to be fed.

I have a glass of wine, and ought to look around for something to feed myself.

Friday. Cloudy and cold. Snowed on the overnight. (All together now, with feeling: Will this torment never end?)  Dry ingredients for today’s loaf of oatmeal/wheat bread mixed and coming up to room temperature, while I gird myself to meet the day, and set the kettle to boil.

…continuing…

We here in Central Maine are under an Active Wind Advisory. Hopefully, it will blow the snow off the driveway. OTOH, I’m not going anywhere today. One of the news feeds would have me to know that many folks in York County have already lost power.

Breakfast was one egg yolk (because I need the egg white to stick the oatmeal to the bread crust) and a whole egg, scrambled with leftover tomato, onions, rice, with the last piece of bread from last week’s loaf, toasted. Finishing up my first cup of tea, with Trooper on my lap, purring. Lunch will be fish and something. I’ve fallen off the fish wagon, which is all too easy to do without Steve around to remind me.

There are eleven in the ASL class, plus the teacher. I have homework — practice my ABCs, count from 1-10, which isn’t as easy as you’d think, work out how to fingerspell my last name — *cough* — and the name of the town I live in. Also, there’s a website and I’m to do Lesson One. I may have to teach Firefly how to Sign, because here’s the thing — you not only need to learn how to make the sign; you need to learn how to read the sign when somebody else is talking. Which is Every. Bit. As. Hard as trying to follow a conversation between two native speakers of, oh, Spanish, after having aced your Spanish 101 vocabulary test.

The classroom we’re in has … character. Also, a line of rubber duckies on a ledge above a bulletin board. There’s a podium with stickers all over it — colleges, coffee, sports teams. And a sign up with the duckies that says, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM WHINING. I’m not doing the room justice, really. For me, it’s Just This Side of Sensory Overload, and I have to force myself to focus on the teacher and my fellow students, instead of spacing around to study the Things.

So, that. As reported elsewhere, today I bake bread, ref “last piece” and “toast” above, and also the ASL homework. What else I do — depends.

What’cha all doin’ today?

Today’s blog post is brought to you by Fleetwood Mac, “Monday Morning,” not because it’s Monday morning, but because, in order to pass my very first sign course, 50 years or so ago, I had to sing a song in Sign, and for some reason I chose “Monday Morning.”  Yes, I got my certificate.

Oh, I had a debriefing when I got home last night:

Dancin’ in the dark

What went before: So, today’s work revealed to me that the niggling feeling that I had regarding something being off about the timing was, indeed correct. I need to recast a few scenes, but thank ghod I caught it this early in the process. If I’d written half a book incorporating this error, fixing it would have been a Nightmare.

I spoke with Eileen Stevens again this evening; she plans on beginning her narration of Diviner’s Bow this weekend.

Onward.

Oh, let’s see. Thursday?

Thursday. Dim and! It’s going to snow! Bah. BAH, I say.

Breakfast was oatmeal with inclusions of dried cranberry and walnuts. Lunch will be — I took some of that ham and pea soup out to defrost. If it’s gonna snow…

Today’s plans are to make the last of Steve’s bread kits that he squirreled away. This one is for a multigrain loaf. The flours and seeds are all premixed. I’ll be using my own yeast, rather than trust the little packet that came with. So, that should be good.

I have some PR to do, and a couple letters to write. Also, writing. I left myself a V. Cranky Note last night, to wit: WHAT TIME IS IT ON TINSORI LIGHT? Which — wow, talk about a head-scratcher.

Tonight is supposed to be my first ASL class, which is in-person at the high school. I’m hoping the snow just blows out to sea and leaves us to it. That would be nice.

The cats would have me believe that they are Out of Food. This is almost true, and they’ll be due for a refill about lunchtime.

I am still like The Plan that has me driving to Balticon, then stopping at Corning on the way home to do the glass museum for a couple days before coming home. If it still seems good tomorrow, I’ll have some reservations to make.

For those playing along at home: my ears have not fallen off, or turned red or black. I’m cleaning them three times a day, like it says on this sheet of paper here, and turning them per likewise.

This morning so far, Firefly and Tali have played a game of tag; Tali and Rook have played a game of tag; and Firefly has smacked Rook repeatedly on the head. Trooper is napping in the copilot’s chair.

And so it goes. Time to start the bread.

What’s the weather where you are today?

Today’s title brought to you by Bruce Springsteen, “Dancin’ in the Dark.”

He had a nasty reputation as a cruel dude

What Went Before: Yesterday, I changed out the cat boxes, vacuumed the basement, made bread, and wrote, all against a background of snow, then sleet. The plowguy came by in the late afternoon to plow the accumulation, leaving a skin of snow for the sleet to fall on, rather than taking it down to the asphalt and turning the driveway into an ice skating rink.

I also posted a snippet, which is reproduced below. Before we go there, however — A Word About Snippets: I often snippet from the WIP. I do this to share the joy of the work. In my mind, it’s analogous to my having baked a batch of cookies and offering you one. I am aware (sigh) that some people are … offended by snippets for various reasons that seem Good To Them. If you are one of those folks, and you see SNIPPET in one of my blog posts — skip over that part. You don’t need to write to me to explain how offended you are; I’m fine with not knowing. Both of our blood pressures will thank you.

SNIPPET: He sighed, and tapped the screen, swearing to himself that if it was anything less than news that the twelfth quadrant had disappeared, he would allow it to languish unopened until he had – and froze, staring at what was assuredly one of the rarest items in all the universe.

He had a letter from Theo.

Rarity though it was, he made no move to open it. Such things ought to be treated with respect, if not active alarm.

Monday. Windy and V. cold. Right now, it’s 17F-feels-like-7 (-8C-feels-like-minus-13). Avalanche warning for the White Mountains (in New Hampshire, about 120 miles from the Cat Farm) through Tuesday mid-morning.

Trooper is sitting on my lap helping me write this.

It snowed another inch or two on the overnight. Somebody was kind enough to plow out the berm at the end of the driveway last night. I know it was last night because a fresh-plowed pile would be dirty, and this one is white, so it was snowed upon after it was created. Dunno if the plowguy will be by for the last couple inches; time will tell, and as previously advertised, I’m not going anywhere.

I hereby declare that the trash and recycling will not be going out to the curb tomorrow. I cleared the trash containers in the house Saturday before it started snowing, so we’re all good here.

Breakfast was oatmeal with walnuts and raisins. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will definitely be leftover stew.

Last night, I again tried the reading-in-bed thing, eventually joined by Tali, and then Firefly. Rook did a check-in, but it was too early for him to go to bed. Trooper was in the big cat ring, and I don’t blame him for not wanting to leave it — that thing is cozy.

I was not particularly restful after I turned off the light, and even after Trooper joined me. He finally grumped, got down — and about five minutes later came back with Firefly, talking all the way. They both got on the bed, Firefly took up her position on my hip, Trooper on my ankle, and that did the trick. I slept until the late, luxurious hour of 6:15am. Cat magic FTW.

Dishwasher is doing its thing; I have my duty to the cats, a few pieces of correspondence, and some banking on the to-do list, but mostly, I’m free to write. I’m very interested to see where these letters lead us.

Apparently, I’m expecting a UPS delivery, but no mail — oh, wait. It is, in the US, President’s Day. No mail delivery. That’s fine.

How’s Monday treating everybody so far?

Today’s title brought to you by The Eagles, “Life in the Fast Lane

Yesterday’s bread — this is a Pullman loaf, swiped by the US train chefs from the French pain de mie.  Its chief attraction is that it makes a uniform square loaf that’s good for same-sized sandwiches, with very little waste.  Mine is whole wheat; the original is a white bread loaf.

 

And go-kart Mozart was checkin’ out the weather chart

What Went Before: I returned to the keyboard after serving up Happy Hour. Trooper is calling foul and is trying to get Tali to fill out the form in triplicate to the Committee Cat. Tali is not interested in getting carbon on her toes, so I’m not sure that complaint’s going to be filed any time soon.

956-ish new words on the WIP, which brings it a whisper short of 5,000 total words. I’m pleased with the day’s progress, and look forward to making more progress, tomorrow.

I would like to report that the portable deadbolts I bought from Amazon really do work well, but I had reckoned without the Resident Void, who can quite easily stand up on his back feet and dork around with the chain — not a particularly safe situation. Cats, man…

I have received a Very, Very Dangerous Email from Vacassa offering almost-affordable places to stay oceanfront in Old Orchard Beach. I tried to avert my eyes — well, no, I didn’t. I opened the dern thing right up and started clicking. It’s a little unnerving to find that I know where most of these places are, including the one in Ocean Park, which is, yes, Just A Walk from the Beach, but it’s a Rather Stern Walk.

The ‘beans are clinging to this upcoming Weather Event like it’s their firstborn child. I’m not going anywhere, myself, and the generator is ready on standby, but I could honestly do without a Weather Event. I’m ready to be done with winter. Witness my explorations at the beach, above.

I think I’d better be done at the desk for the day, before I get into even more Dutch with the coon cats. I do still have to pair socks and clear the dishwasher, and by that time Trooper may have decided to file the report himself.

SNIPPET: “Treachery is always possible,” his former master reminded him in memory. “Honor is always possible. It is our task as traders to nurture honor while being alert for treachery.”
OR: “Trust in Allah, but tie your camel.”

Onward.

Sunday.  Snowed a couple inches on the overnight. Looks to be taking a breather right now, then we’re supposed to be treated to more snow and the ever-popular wintry mix.

Breakfast will be scrambled eggs. Lunch will be — dunno. Maybe leftover stew. Maybe a grilled cheese sandwich. We’ll see.

Today’s plans include changing out the cat boxes, baking a loaf of bread, writing, and contemplating the precipitation when and how it chooses to fall from the sky. Surely, that’s enough for one day.

So! Those who attended — how’s Boskone?

Everybody else — how’s the weekend been treating you?

Today’s title brought to you by Bruce Springsteen and Manfred Mann.  Yes I do realize this is a Religious Thing that’s just as heat-inducing as Oxford Commas, and How Many Spaces After a Period.  That being so:
Blinded by the Light,” Manfred Mann
Blinded by the Light,” Bruce Springsteen

Sunday morning photo shoot:

In which lunch is uncertain, and the snow is very near

What went before+/-750 new words on the WIP. Yeah, Gordy’s in a pickle. Note to self: Start a Weird Words List.

Saturday. Diffused sunlight; cold: 7F/-14C when I woke up. 10F/-12C as I type this. Weatherbeans are calling for Snowpocalypse, starting late tonight, and continuing through very early Monday morning.

Breakfast was toast with cream cheese and grapes. Finishing up my first mug of tea. Lunch is uncertain. I want stew. I have chicken tenders. Maybe I can make chicken stew? Hmm.

Today is change out the cat fountains day. I should probably get the cat litter into the house before Snowpocalypse, but I’ll let it warm up a little bit (which, trust me, is all it’s going to warm up). I’ll probably throw a load of laundry in, so as not to get behind, and get the desk set up for the mundane parts of next week, but mostly I want to spend some Serious Time with the WIP.

Last night, as I was sitting in my corner of the couch, snuggled under a blanket and reading, Tali jumped up, did some of her frantic-kneading; suddenly stopped, sighed, and chose a spot next to my knee to stretch out and purr quietly to herself. A few minutes later, Firefly jumped up on Her Particular Spot, started to knead, *saw that other cat* and approached. Tali turned her head upside down, Firefly sniffed her nose, then came back to Her Spot and snuggled against my hip. Both girls purred for a bit until they went to sleep, and I returned to my book.

Previous to that, we had a very nice, four-corner cat dance. Rook still needs to learn some game manners, but everybody got a chance to show off their moves.

I saw a few people yesterday wondering if Rook was being an aggressor, trying to take the desk box from Tali. What I think is — Rook’s still a kitten and has no boundaries. He flops on top of Trooper and goes to sleep; he’s not contesting the space, necessarily, merely being comfy and warm. Also, Rook has No Idea how big he is, so crowding Tali out might not have been his strategy. If it was — it didn’t work, because Tali gave not an inch. It’s worth taking a moment here to remember that Tali was previously in kitten production. By policy, she does not take nonsense from upstart kittens.

So! That’s my day planned, pre-snowstorm. What’s the weather where you are?

Today’s blog title courtesy of The Doors, with apologies to Jim Morrison.  “Roadhouse Blues

Below, Rook, helping me get the laundry sorted.  What a worker that kid is.

Go on, take the money and run

What went before: On behalf of the new novel, I got my reading done, and did some planning. Wrote about 600 words. Set up the three-ring binder so I can put all the Shan bits together, all the Jen Sin bits together, and so on, until it’s time to piece them together. If that’s how it’s gonna be, then I might as well be organized about it.  I also received Tali’s updated TICA registration.

Oh, let’s see. Friday/Big Commercial Holiday in the US. Sunny and windy and C-O-L-D.

Before-appointment breakfast was a KIND bar and a cup of tea. Fly-by second breakfast was a carton of vanilla skyr. Water is on to boil the macaroni fated to go under my spaghetti and meatballs that I didn’t eat for lunch yesterday.

I have new sneakers. Holy Hoots! Have you seen the cost of sneakers? Especially the sneakers recommended by your podiatrist? I wish I could say that they’re pretty, but they’re not. I don’t often score pretty shoes, being, as I am, guy-sized, and for some reason Hoka did not see fit to make lavender sneakers in guy-size. They are comfy, so maybe worth the price. And, even though I know that the new card from the insurance company would have paid for them, I forgot that at the Crucial Moment. I’ll learn the ways.

Extra order of cat litter has been delivered to the inside of the garage, and there it can remain until the wind dies down. I have been told that my repaired wireless keyboard has commenced its return journey from Washington State. On my way home from Augusta, where I took on the above-referenced moderately ugly but very comfy sneakers, I stopped at Hannaford for milk (it won’t do to run out of the means to make hot chocolate this weekend), cheese, macaroni, chicken tenders, more Snyder bits because man those things are good, and, err, something else. Ah. Wine. All food groups covered.

After lunch, I hope to get with Gordy as the boys in the basement thanked me for the beer by explaining why it is that Gordy is late, and depending on how that goes, I may watch John Carter, which I do have. I’d been convinced that I’d traded it in.

And that’s my accounting of adventure on the day.

What’ve you guys been doing that’s fun?

BTW, this is what I came home to:

Today’s blog title brought to you by the Steve Miller Band, because I happened to hear it on the radio this morning.  “Take the Money and Run.”

They don’t give a damn about any trumpet playing band

What went before:  Hired somebody to maintain korval.com, which is an enormous load off my shoulders.

Waiting in my email this morning was a note from NESFA (New England Science Fiction Association); Tony Lewis has left us.  Tony and Suford let Steve and me park our car at their house for a week and took us to the train station so we could attend our first convention as Guests of Honor, Silicon, in 1998. Chatting with him and Suford was always a high point at Boskone.

Thursday. Frizzling (freezing drizzle, looks like). Once again the Big Storm wore itself out before it got to us.

Breakfast was PB&J on English muffin. Second cup of tea is brewing. Lunch will be — eh. No, wait. I got spaghetti and meatballs out of the freezer last night. Ta-da! Lunch.

So, I was flattened by the time I’d finished eating the evening meal, so I just took my book and a mug of tea and went to bed, where I was immediately joined by four cats, who immediately went to sleep. I read for a while, then shoved the propping pillow to one side, and joined them. So that was good. Next lesson: I’m going to have to stop thinking that 6:00 is early if I go to sleep at 10.

First up today is sitting by the window, watching the … frizzle frizz … and sketching in some scenes (y’all know that when I say things like “doodling” and “sketching” it means making notes and hand-drafting scenes, not actually doing art? Just wanted to clear that up.) This may actually be the only thing, aside one’s duty to the cats, and feeding myself lunch, that actually gets accomplished today, and if so, sobeit.

So, that’s it for me. Over to you.

Below the requested photos of the classy new cat bowls, provided by a Mystery Friend.

Today’s blog post title comes to you from Dire Straits, “The Sultans of Swing.”  Historical note:  I was on my way to Steve’s house, and this song “previewed” on the radio, so that almost the first thing I said to Steve after he let me in was, “I just heard this incredible song!  Sultans of –”  And Steve turned to his record player, picked up an album cover (Steve having been a music reviewer, he got free albums) and handed it to me.  “I was just listening to it, when you knocked.”  I happened to hear it on the radio this morning during breakfast.

Sitting by the window, watching the snow fall

What went before: I cleared all the backed up paperwork.  fingers crossed

Wednesday. Sunny and cold. The three youngers are having Da Zooms. Trooper is asleep in his copilot’s chair; he’s exhausted from having to wake me at 3:30, 4:30, and 5:15. I don’t blame him; I slept in after he gave up.

Breakfast was cottage cheese, grapes, and toast. Yeah, I was lazy. Lunch may be a salad ( ref “lazy”).

We here in Central Maine are looking for Severe Weather in the form of ice-and-snow from midnight through tomorrow afternoon. I suppose the Path of Wisdom is to reschedule Tali’s meet ‘n greet. She still doesn’t reliably let me pick her up, believing, as she apparently does, that I’m going to be putting her in a cat carrier and Taking Her Somewhere (nor would she, in the case, be wrong), and adding in the weather just puts too much angst on all concerned.

As above, Tali is still a bit unsettled. She wants to sit on my lap, but then she remembers that I could be working for the Other Side, and jumps down. She leapt up onto the couch last night to join Firefly and me. Firefly was very courteous; they touched noses like civilized felines, then Tali began to knead. This process went on far too long for Firefly’s nerves and she left. Whereupon Tali left, and though she visited me several times during the evening, she would no sooner sit on my lap than need to leap up and Go See. i didn’t see Firefly again until I went to bed, and found her curled up against my pillow. I slipped in beside her; she purred, and I went to sleep.

What else? Ah. Video chat with the cyber-pro this afternoon. One’s duty to the cats, and perhaps a short walk.

I have taken the decision to doodle in the scenes as they occur to me for the next bit, then move them around until they all snap into the right place. Frequent readers of this space will recall that this is the technique I used to write Salvage Right, though at the time I wasn’t thinking it would be necessary to write ALL Jen Sin books in the same way.

There were calls in various places for photos! of the cats’ elegant new dishes. I’m not ignoring these requests, but the dishes are currently in the dishwasher, getting washed. Watch the skies.

I think that’s everything. I’m awaiting Friday with interest, to see if my SSA payout arrives in the bank, and I’m trying not to look ahead to next Thursday.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm.

What’s your news?

Cats at work:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today’s blog post also brought to you by Laurie Anderson, backed up by Peter Gabriel.  “Excellent Birds,” or, if you prefer, “This is the Picture.”  Link.

Snow Date

What went before:  Yesterday was not a good day.  Nuff said.

Monday, grey and cold. Snow showers in the forecast.

Went to bed early; got up to the 6:45 alarm. Breakfast was a blueberry muffin and some English Cheddar. First cup of tea is to hand.

Today’s Plan insomuch as it can be said to be a plan is to finish my cup of tea, do my duty to the cats, fill a Yeti with yet more hot tea and go camp out at the Verizon store until it’s time to go to the dentist. I do have to let an InfoDump out into the cyberlanes today, but that will be AD — After Dentist.

So, do I understand this correctly — there’s another John Carter movie (cleverly titled JOHN CARTER 2)? Thirteen years after the original “mega-flop”? The ways of The Mouse are mysterious, indeed.

What’s your Plan for Monday?