everybody talks about the weather – Page 10

Rites of Spring

What went before: So, I’ve read 108 out of a possible 197 manuscript pages. Will finish that tomorrow.

Otherwise, a Very Quiet day here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory (except Now, because Trooper is yelling for Happy Hour NEOW!). I am for some reason Just Exhausted, so it will be an early night hereabouts.

I watched “Rogue” last night from Dr. Who. The Doctor did look ever-so-tasty in his Regency duds, though I’m going to be very disappointed in him if he doesn’t find the lad.

Hope everyone has had an enjoyable Friday.

Stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Saturday. Cloudy and cooler.

Slept late. Thinking about sleeping some more, but! Today is change-the-cat-boxes day, so — duty first, then nap, if I’m still So Inclined.

It rained last night — a lot — and the ‘beans are calling for more, off and on, during the day.

Tali and Rook did engage me before breakfast in a vigorous game of Spring, which presently goes like this:

1 Rook and Tali Gather Round, looking up at me Expectantly.

2 I Produce a Spring and show it to them.

3 They wriggle.

4 I throw the spring.

5 They chase it at turnpike speeds (Tali runs faster than Rook, but this isn’t an advantage, as she often over-shoots the target).

6 Rook (usually) recovers the spring (if Tali manages to get to it first, he takes it away from her), and brings it back to me, so I can throw it again.

6a If Tali retains the spring, she bats it around until she loses it, then comes back to me, eyes wide, waiting for me to Produce a Spring. However!

6b The game ends when the spring is lost.

7 VARY: Rook hides the spring and then comes back to me, eyes wide. I go find it and throw it again. This Variation has a three-throw limit or ends when 6b is invoked.

So, that’s the news from the Cat Farm. I note that this time last Saturday, I was driving twisty little roads through tidy Vermont towns in the Pouring! Down! Rain! and wondering if it just made more sense to pull over, buy a house, and never drive anywhere again.

What’re y’all doing that’s interesting, today?

Sunday clean-up

What went before: So Ron Currie’s presentation at the library was interesting. He spoke and read to a Very Full Room of appreciative readers. He chose to talk about culture, history, what motivated him to write the book, and to set it in Waterville’s South End, which was at the time the book is set, largely French. It was a good talk; I learned things. So! An afternoon well-spent.

Came home to answer some correspondence, and now? I’m kinda beat for some reason, so I believe I will leave the form that arrived in today’s mail for a Sunday activity, perhaps with my second mug of tea — flips through questionnaire. Ah. My second and third mugs of tea.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Rainy and cool. Argh.

Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts, second cup of tea in process. Lunch will be a fish sammich with, um — grapes.

First thing on the day’s agenda is Basement Cleanup and Cat Box Change Out. After, I can look forward to a lovely hot shower, a pair of soft old jeans, a sweatshirt, and! A lengthy medical form to fill out. I think I have enough milk to make a mug of hot chocolate, if I really want to get decadent.

I also want to finish getting the laptop updated and the duffel bag with my Corning Adventure Clothes packed (the overnight bag for Cooperstown is all set to go). That will leave the Big Wheeled Convention Bag to be sorted out, and a cooler to pack. I should maybe run the car through the car wash, too, just for fun.

All four cats visited me at the breakfast table, as I sipped my first mug of tea and redecorated Perry Wink’s house in Finch. Perry and the pig will be finishing up their tour of the Rain Forest tomorrow, which is the day the pig becomes an adult. I need to decide which “pet” to bring to adult next, or if I’m just going to grab one of the cats send Perry to New York City.

The “pets” in this game, I just … I got a PILE OF ROCKS for a “pet.” I don’t know who needs to hear this, but a PILE OF ROCKS is not a “pet.” It is either a pile of rocks, a portal to another space/time location, or a conduit for magic. That’s it; those are your choices, and you seek to make any of those into a pet at your very great peril.

Yeah, I gave the rocks back.

So, I’m reading The Elusive Earl and Everyone Here Spoke Sign Language. Everyone… continues to fascinate, but I’m getting a little Impatient with the Earl. I liked The Mysterious Marquess, despite the, um, airiness. The chemistry between Lucian and Penelope, the charm of the family that had worked out how to go on even with the head of the household long absent produced a comfortable feel-good air. I was happy while I was reading it, and that’s all we ask of any book.

The Earl, however — not nearly as charming in the telling; I don’t feel the frisson between the leads. It broods, this book. Also, there seems to be an actual murder, if not several murders, to be balanced. Perhaps it’s Scotland. Macbeth has a lot to answer for.

And — fair being fair — I had somewhat assumed that this book would bestow some well-earned good fortune upon our friend the Heir Finder, and I’m somewhat disappointed to learn that this will probably not be happening, at least in this book. I suppose there are still more heirs to find.

I think that’s all I’ve got for the moment; my tea is gone; the skies have opened, and I? have a basement to clean.

What’re you doing today?

Damp and Dim for the Win

What went before: Had a lovely and informative chat with Alex Picard, the narrator for the Ribbon Dance audiobook (coming to you in August!). She was kind enough to suggest the title of a nonfiction book about the deaf communities on Martha’s Vineyard, backaways — Everyone here spoke sign language: Heredity deafness on Martha’s Vineyard, by Nora Ellen Groce — I’m on page 6 and already fascinated.

I also remembered that when we were going on a long road trip, Steve used to take on those tuna lunch packs — which just about saved our lives on two separate train trips over the years — when the train was so late, the various on-board provisioners not only ran out of food, they ran out of booze — so I went out and grabbed some of the tuna things, because Murphy is real, and his Law is the great leveler.

Losing Steve really did tear my brain in half. My memory has never been my most robust mental function, and it’s just gone to wood shavings on some stuff. I’m glad I decided to pack slow, because the act of getting things together to go to a convention is kicking Old Habits to the surface. I guess I should also say, if I don’t immediately remember you at the con — it’s me, not you, and the Ghods of Conventions in Their infinite wisdom give us name tags for a reason.

Tomorrow, I’m taking a break in the early afternoon to go to the library and listen to Ron Currie read from The Savage Noble Death of Babs Dionne. Before and after, I’ll continue to do those chores that will make coming home easier, putter at my packing, study the maps/routes. And not freak out. That’s very important. I even wrote it on the to-do list.

Right now, the first 194 pages of the current WIP is printing out, so I’ll have that ready to read and get back into the right headspace.

It got Quite Warm today; tomorrow is supposed to be significantly cooler, though still springlike.

The coon cats have had their Happy Hour, and are each sitting in an open window, admiring the evening breeze (not the bathroom window — they’re using the Considerably Safer crank windows, in my office).

And that’s the news from the Cat Farm.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Saturday. Damp and dim. Which really ought to be the name of my next band. Or — I dunno. Maybe Damp and Dim reported on those Sites that Wu and Fabricant deemed not worth their time? Though if Wu and Fabricant wrote an entry on Star Well…

… and now you know why writers stare out of windows.

All righty, then! Breakfast was sausage patty and cheese on a buttermilk biscuit, with grapes. I Regret Nothing. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch is in question, because of the timing of the reading at the library. I will not starve, and honestly? This opens up the possibility of ice cream.

Quitting time got a little extended last night due to Shenanigans on the part of Steve’s printer. By the time I was done clearing paper jams, I was, frankly, beat. Firefly put in a Very Clear Request for reading in bed, so we read read The Elusive Earl until I fell asleep.

Speaking of updates from the road! I will of course have my laptop with me, and I’ll be able to update to Facebook, but I won’t be able to update my blog at sharonleewriter, which is where I point people to for daily updates.

The Plan at the moment is to post to Patreon and set access to Public. This would be easiest for me, and I’ll test the proposition today, to see if Public is, indeed, accessible to anyone who wanders by, and if said merry wanderers of the internets may leave comments.

UPDATE: Only PAID members may comment on public posts, says Patreon, which may actually be the best path, as the moderator will be engaging in Other Activities.

So! Who has Plans today?

Damp and Dim cat census:

Speed bonny boat, like a bird on the wing

What went before: And, the first Steve Miller’s death has killed the Liaden Universe®; the latest book is filler: boring, stupid, and includes icky girl stuff¹ commentary has landed. I’m kind of surprised it took this long. And, no, I did not seek it out.

Closing up shop for the day. Dr. Who up in 3…2…1…

Everybody stay safe.

¹<fe>Assuredly the first Liaden book ever to include icky girl stuff</fe>

* * *

So. Did he bring her to that desolate Welsh hilltop on purpose?

Tuesday. Sunny and already kind of warm, pardoning the slight, cool breeze. The ‘beans are looking for 70F/21C, so I might actually be able to sit out on the deck for a little while this afternoon in Actual Sunshine.

Trash is at the curb, but not recycling, since there’s no recycling pickup this week, those trucks being needed to haul in the junk for the City Cleanup.

Breakfast was — don’t judge me — leftover mashed potatoes with egg, onions, and cheese. Lunch will be a burger and … something. Or, yanno, not.

I have a letter from the hospital that’s closing next week. It appears that I can fill out a form to see if my PCP will accept me into his new practice — in Bath. I’m required to fill the form in and fax it to the practice, which is going to be a challenge. I note that Bath is, eh, an hour away, maybe?

However, in Actual Good News, the Walk-In Clinic is not closing. At least, not yet.

The letter is dense — in layout and in information, so I’ll be reading it again. I also have a bill from the plumber for the Installation Fiasco, and it is less — even much less — than I had feared. So — qualified good news there.

I’ve some other this, that, and t’other things to look after, and tonight is the second meeting of the fiber craft group at the library.

“My life makes perfect sense: drugs and booze, and violence.” Possibly my least favorite Dire Straits song.

Thanks to everyone for the outpouring of love for our writing, and for Diviner’s Bow. I should perhaps have given a paraphrase warning, and I now let the world know that “icky girl stuff” is romance/relationship content. Which, yes, the Liaden Universe® has embraced — cough — from the beginning, and it always amazes me that people who preface their Disappointed Remarks on our Sudden Wokeness with “I’ve been reading this series from the beginning,” managed to miss this for nearly 40 years. I can only believe that reading is very difficult for them, and I admire their perseverance.

The windows are open — only not the bathroom window, which will have to do penance for a while yet — and the cats are strategically deployed to take advantage of the Smells Of Outdoors.

Do you know where your cats are?

Today’s blog post title comes to you via Dr. Who (“Kiss-Kiss”), “Skye Boat Song,” the linked performance from Celtic Thunder.

Adventuring for the faint of heart

Convention Business: The BaltiCon Program is now live. Word is that it’s still being tweaked. I was, for instance, double booked for Saturday evening, and have been moved from the panel discussion of how to make your characters relatable. Here’s the link. Note that you can search the schedule by day, and by person, and you can create your own list of things to do and see.

What went before: So, that’s 636 new words on the day, along with some retrofitting of old words. The WIP Entire now weighs in at +/-39,597 words.
For a book that has quite a large cast of characters, Salvage Right is amazingly tight, and I have to keep going back and refreshing myself on what happened when and to whom, as well as what was left over.

Also, prep for BaltiCon, including the travel details, and speeches, and reservations at Corning — not to mention the stupidity with the insurance company and! something else that landed on my desk today — is all kind of borking my concentration on the story. Well. Maybe I’ll have time to write at the con.

Yeah, who am I kidding?

The rain has stopped and the wind has come up. Word is that tomorrow will be sunny and beautiful.

We’ll see, she said darkly.

In the meantime, everybody stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday In Two Parts

ONE
Oh, my gods and goddesses.

Rookie fell out of the bathroom window.

SPOILER: He’s OK; I’m — a little stressed, and so very VERY pleased that he didn’t run away, but just sat in the garden under the window and YELLED. Firefly and Tali came to get me, both looking very worried, and I had heard a cat calling, but thought it was Trooper singing the song of his people downstairs, as is his habit.

But Trooper was on the copilot’s chair. I ran to the bathroom; the screen was awry and I could hear a cat YELLING. I closed the bathroom door, ran outside — and there was Rook, staring up at the window and YELLING. I called him and he came to me, just like the spoiled kid he is, and I picked him up and told him how brave and smart he was, and brought him back into the house, where we both collapsed onto the couch. He’s only just gotten up to grab a snack.

I pushed the screen all the way out, closed and locked the window. I’ll figure out how to put it back in later.

Offerings to Bast are in order.

TWO
Sunday. Sunny and still a little chilly, though warm enough that I opened the bathroom window for the edification of coon cats.

Breakfast was … eggs scrambled with tomato and onion and rice. I guess I ate about half of it before Adventure overtook me. I hate cold eggs. I did finish my toast and jam. Lunch will be chicken tender and mashed potatoes out of a bag and, oh, peas, why not?

I have a letter to write, but mostly I want to write. I really hope that isn’t too much to ask.

I … am still a little shaky, and so glad that Firefly and Tali came to get me instead of following Rook out the window. I might’ve talked Firefly in, but Tali’d be halfway to the mall in Augusta by now. Fans of Trooper will be pleased to hear that he slept through the entire thing.

So! Who’s up for Adventure today?

Picture of Rook after the fall:

I thought that I heard you laughing

What went before: Bookmarks for Balticon just landed!
Today has been a frustrating day. As much as I declared that it would be a writing day — well. It was a writing day.

Unfortunately, it was a writing day where I realized that I had made a wrong turn, and spent hours trying to figure out (1) where I had gone wrong and (2) how to fix it. I briefly considered chucking the entire manuscript into the recycling bin and deleting all the files.

Then I realized that I was dealing with a crew of rogues and scoundrels and that Seignur Veeoni is, to put it as baldly as possible — Seignur Veeoni.

Which in the present case, is a GOOD thing.

So! 265 new words written today, but the way is clear for tomorrow.

I had salmon on a bed of salad greens for lunch, and there’s broccoli cheese soup left over for tomorrow.

The cats have just finished Happy Hour; I have some dishes to wash, and my own evening meal to forage.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Saturday. Why, look; it’s raining.

I’ve taken to setting an alarm for 7am, as a compromise to getting up at 5am because I woke up, and feeling Aggrieved for the rest of the day. If I know I have an alarm set for 7, when I wake up at 5, I say, “Oh, no, you still have two hours to sleep,” and — that works. Psychology, man.

So, this morning when I arose, dewy and pink, from my couch (I know, I know — terrible image, but who am I to contradict a poet?), I was starving. I was in fact So Hungry that my brain immediately said, “You’re too hungry to eat.”

Have I mentioned recently that my brain periodically tries to kill me?

Yeah, so. Breakfast was naan and hummus, and a handful of dried apricots, because it was quick and could pretend to be nutritious. For lunch, there is that bowl of broccoli cheese soup that I ordered yesterday for lunch, but didn’t want after I ate the salad.

Today is — dare I say it? Yes! flaran cha’menthi, and all like that — a writing day. Seignur Veeoni is on deck. This ought to be Fun. For those values of Fun that apply to writers who are actively writing.

I was visited, serially, at breakfast by Rook and by Tali. Firefly stopped by my chair to have her back stroked, which is Firefly’s schtick; and Trooper is already on duty in the copilot’s chair.

So! What’s the weather at your house?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by REM, “Losing my religion“

In which dragons rule

What went before ONE: Plot twist! A folder has been opened for me at the Legal Aid for the Elderly. I am promised a call from a lawyer, perhaps today.

It is now cloudy here at the Cat Farm, though we’re not supposed to get rain until this evening. One’s duty to the cats has been dispatched; and I took a small walk. Laundry is being washed. Moving on to checking off Even More things from the to-do list.

What went before TWO: The credit card bill just came in and I had one of those HOLY FREAKING GHU! How much cat food did I BUY? moments.

Scrolling madly down the list —

Breathe, breathe. You bought a washer and dryer, remember? It’s OK, you planned for this…

What went before THREE: Window washer/gutter clean-and-repair guy still here. The sweet potato for lunch was good. The top rack of my dishwasher has decided to get out of alignment. Of course, it’s full of dishes. I manged to finagle it back to where it’s supposed to go, will wash the dishes tonight, empty it tomorrow and try to figure out what’s going on.

In the meantime, I have heard from the lawyer. She needs to speak with a colleague, and will call me back.

I spent an hour watching a comedy/poetry show called Biology with Alok. I’m assuming that I am, as always, late to the party, but if you haven’t seen this video, I … give it a qualified recommend. The poems are difficult, especially the segment about Alok’s grandfather, which is part of a long riff on why love is dangerous.

It seems like part of the intent of the show is to create a balance of high and low. The aside into made up words is hysterical, and I really liked the segments where the subject is straight/straight white people, where Alok is pretending that the audience are unfamiliar with the subculture. Kind of like Peter Grant, who only mentions a person’s race if they’re white.

I also liked the bit where Alok and friends are walking down the street and a guy yells, “GAYS!” “Give me something I can make poetry from, not comedy!” has got to be a classic line.

Anyhoots, for those who may be interested — it’s an hour and I spaced it out into three segments — here’s the link

What went before FOUR: One of my ASL classmates made this for me:

Business first: Ribbon Dance mass market debuts on the Bookscan Bestseller List of new releases at Number 35!

Friday. Mizzling and chilly. sigh

Breakfast was rice crackers, cream cheese, and the last strawberries. Lunch… Yeah. I’ll think of something.

ASL class was a little chaotic last night; all of us, including the instructor, were one step off of center. Next week is my last week, by reason of Balticon, and I’ll also have to miss two fabric craft meetings. Thus! the price of fame. And of wanting to have a vacation.

Also next week — Monday, in fact — I have an appointment to get my haircut, which I have mixed feelings about. On the one hand, my hair’s grown long enough that, if we just chopped off a few points and got my bangs out of my eyes, I’d let it keep on doing its thing. On the other hand, I ought to at least look respectful. And on the gripping hand — who even looks at old scifi writers?

Is that DAVE BROMBERG on Classic Rewind? Oh. No. Ice Cream Man. Van Halen. That’s actually something of a relief.

Today, she says in a Determined Auctorial Voice, is a Writing Day. That may mean that lunch is solved by takeout.

. . . Back when I was a young writer, newly partnered and feeling completely safe for possibly the first time in my life, I could drop into story space and stay there for — hours and hours; half a day — or night. Sandwiches and glasses of ice tea would magically appear and I’d eat them without ever coming out of my fugue. I wrote several stories, start to finish, that way. Even as a older writer, I could drop into fugue for at least a few hours, knowing I had back-up. Nowadays, I have to keep one ear cocked and one eye open, and I — kinda resent that.

In other news, my dentist wants me to come to an Exclusive Event! An Invisalign Screening! And? If I sign On The Day, I can get $1100 OFF of Invisaligns.

While I’m the first person to agree that my teeth are crooked and have always been crooked, I take leave to doubt that the Invisaligns can be made to fit around the rocks in my mouth. So — recycling bin.

Spectrum Generations — aka the Senior Center(s) — have a newsletter called Wicked Aging. Make of that what you will.

And that’s what I’ve got on a gloomy Friday.

Who has weekend plans?

Oh, the new dragon is making friends.

Sunshine!

What went before, short form: So, yesterday morning I discovered a new and disturbing discoloration on the back of my calf, about the size of my palm. I spent some time thinking about that, my inclination being to Just Ignore It. Had it be Steve, now, I would have nagged him to go to the clinic, or at least call his doctor, and finally I decided that — in all fairness and in the spirit of While One Stands Both Live — I should do the same for me, so! to the clinic I went.

Examination, measurements, conversation, and ultrasound later — nobody knows what caused the broken blood vessels, but the discoloration is not a sign of a DVT — that’s a blood clot — and that’s really all that interests me. Oh, and the disturbed area may be treated with warm compresses, elevation, and Tylenol.

It was not a very productive day, otherwise. I rewarded myself with ice cream and going to the local Reny’s to buy socks. Because buying socks is always in order.

Thursday. Sunny! Going to be warm(ish), though not so warm as it eventually got to be, yesterday. The windows are open. For now.

Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries (a fat free food! it says on the package) and walnuts. Lunch with be a sweet potato.

Consumers for Affordable Health Care called me back as I was at breakfast and they too! gave me the number for Legal Aid for the Elderly, which is on my list to call as soon as I have my second cup of tea to fortify me. I can’t wait to hear how they can’t help me, either.

I have more things to do than I have time to accomplish, but I’ll see what I can make happen.

Window wash/gutter cleaning scheduled for noon. ASL at 5:30. Cat bowls have been refreshed.

Rookie came up into my lap after I finished my oatmeal — we have this thing where he visits me after breakfast (and after lunch, if his schedule allow), and this morning, Tali came by, saw the lap was occupied and jumped up anyway. She snuffled Rook’s ears; he snuffled her cheek. She stood there on my knees, a little uncertain, but unwilling to get down — so Rook got down and strolled off to have a bite of cat food. Tali turned around a couple times, bumped my chin with her head, tried to eat the blood pressure cuff while it was doing its thing, then bumped me again and jumped down.

So — progress.

What’s progressing in your vicinity?

Oh — Proof of sunshine, and! How many cats are in this picture?

In which the writer is v. tired

What went before: So, sewing group was fun, though perhaps a little short. I got to meet Carty McFly, a utility cart complete with wheels and enormous googly eyes. The official start time is 5:30 and the library closes at 7, so clean up was happening 6:30ish. However! We had a good group, especially for a first time. Two crocheters, two knitters, one quilter, and yours truly on the needle and hoop.

The cats were trying to get the Northeast Committee Cat on the phone when I got home, but technically Happy Hour was not late. In point of Actual Fact, it was Exactly on Time.

Still raining. And cold. Too cold.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Wednesday. Raining. In case anybody cares, I’m really tired of rain. And? I accept no responsibility; the weather gods are NOT jealous of my lovely new sun chair.

Breakfast was cottage cheese and toast. Waiting for my second cup of tea to brew. Lunch — I bought some chicken tenders which need to be baked and then parceled out into the freezer, so I’m guessing chicken and veggie will do.

I? Am a Very Tired Woman.

I have a Generated Letter from Maximus, which is charged by the Federal Government to make sure that Medicare is Following The Rules. Maximus makes it Very Clear that they are only interested in The Rules. Which means they’re ignoring the substance of my appeal, as Martin’s Point before them. So, I’ll be calling the state insurance bureau today and see about getting an advocate. If there is no advocate, then I guess it’s the papers.

<grumble>Just what I wanted to be doing with my time</grumble>

The gentleman I spoke to about painting my garage is supposed to stop by today and stare at the project under discussion.

I need to renew my library card, which if I’d known, I coulda done that yesterday.

There are three cats sleeping in my office, and one cat on the back of the couch, attempting to influence the flow of random event.

And that’s what’s happening here.

What’s happening there?

when the world is puddle-wonderful

What went before: 707 new words today, bringing the WIP total word count to 35,147.

I printed out Blays and Majel’s Excellent Adventure, and will now have to time it.

Trooper is insisting that it is Coon Cat Happy Hour neeOW!, and he is, alas, wrong. I will therefore torment him by straightening up my desk and staring into the abyss of next week, which starts off with a bang! — a 7am appointment at the car dealership to get the Subaru ready for hitting the road. And! I need to remember to take the backway, because the ramp off the expressway to the dealership is closed (again) for repairs.

Sixteen people have committed to the Friends of Liad Breakfast at BaltiCon, which is certainly enough to warrant making a reservation.

It’s started to rain again; apparently, this is expected to continue through tomorrow night.

And Firefly has just come by to remind me about watching Dr. Who tonight…

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Raining. I’m chilly, but I don’t think it’s actually chilly. Anyhoot, sweatshirt on, and the dishwasher is doing its thing.

Breakfast was a cup of cottage cheese with a spoon of blueberry/ginger jam stirred in, this being the compromise after I informed myself that “I’ll just skip breakfast” was Not Acceptable. Lunch is easier. I have some tomato soup left over from the other day, into which I shall place a meatball or two and maybe some lentils, and, hey-presto! — rainy day soup.

<aside>I managed last year by riding the wave of Habit. But the wave has struck, and broken, and it’s becoming noticeably harder for me to keep on track. I haven’t lived by myself for nearly 50 years, and I’m finding I’m not very good at it. OTOH, I don’t really want to live with anybody else. Honestly, there’s no pleasing the woman.</aside>

So, last night, we watched Dr. Who. Firefly watched most of the Space Babies from the top of the cat tree, with Tali, but she came down when the bogeyman almost got Eric, and cuddled up with me, so we went on and watched the Music Thief, which I quite liked. (Apologies for not recalling the official titles of these episodes.)

Today, I need to time my (proposed) reading, and do some writing. Also, I need to make rice to have against need; it seems I’ve been eating a lot of rice, somehow, and remember to set the alarm for Omighod so I can be in Augusta (going the back way) by 7 am. I may grab breakfast at Lisa’s, after, and forage on the way home.

Looking out over the Long Back Yard — it’s amazing how quickly the leaves and flowers get on with it, once they’ve decided the time is right. I swear that two weeks ago, I had skeleton trees…

How’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by e.e. cummings, “In Just-“