everybody talks about the weather – Page 11

In which the writer is not a cinephile

First things first: This is for the purposes of planning the Friends of Liad Breakfast on Saturday morning of Balticon at 8:45 am

If you are planning to attend the breakfast (you do not need to be a member of the con to come to breakfast): say “Yes” in comments.

Things you need to know about the Friends of Liad Breakfast: (1) This is a family gathering to catch up with each other and news. Everybody pays for their own breakfast. (2) It is not a con event.

Go!

What went before ONE: Old/new snippet: “Was that too long?” Theo snapped, worry sublimating into temper by a process he understood intimately. “You smashed the rack-and-tile array with a starbar. The doc had to do repairs at the cellular level! You should be dead, except you got lucky.”

Lucky. Of course, he had gotten lucky.

What went before TWO: So, lost +/-230 words on the day, bringing the total WIP to 34,440, more or less. And! I have a follow to a new scene that did not appear in Salvage Right, and which will address something that we glossed over in Salvage Right because deadline and if we kept on going we’d have written a 200,000 word book and, just — no.

There are already /1/0 15 people who say they’ll be attending the Saturday morning Friends of Liad breakfast at BaltiCon. Hoping the in-house restaurant is more amenable to reservations than the Boskone hotel, which, the last time Steve and I hosted a FOL breakfast, adamantly refused to take a reservation, and therefore doomed themselves to constantly rearranging the room for two hours, as folks kept arriving.

I am scheduled to be interviewed at 11:30 on Saturday at the con, according to the Less Drafty Schedule, so that’s something else to bear in mind.

Trooper was unfortunately messily ill this morning, which means that there will be no Happy Hour this evening. Because explaining to cats that they need to not gorge on gooshy food because it will make them sick isn’t exactly an Easy Sell, I think I will be on the couch watching Dr. Who and ignoring the protests of felines whose throats have been cut, rather than trying to read, or write, or do ASL homework.

And that’s all I’ve got on the day.

Saturday. The ‘beans claim it’s raining. The weather over the Long Back Yard is mostly sunny and a trifle cool. I’ve set the Awesome Chair up on the deck.

Breakfast was a ham and cheese sandwich (which finishes the ham, which I am now tired of, so it will be easier — for a while, anyway — to resist temptation) and veggie chips. Yes, that does sound like lunch. Actual lunch will be quiche and salad.

Thanks to everyone who pitched in on the name of the movie. Kill Bill it was. Nasty piece of work. Bearing in mind that I also did not think Thelma and Louise was “funny.” I think I may have mentioned that I am not the person they make movies for.

Speaking of movies, I watched The Church on Ruby Road, and the difference between now and 1997 is … wow. The cats all joined me, and we had a lovely viewing. Firefly has already asked that we do it again this evening, so I’ve got that inked in.

I stayed up a bit late last night, to finish The Teller of Small Fortunes. I also made the executive decision not to finish the book club book. This is slightly awkward, because I’m going to listen to the author read from this book in a week or two. OTOH, there always exists the possibility that I’m reading it wrong — reading protocols are A Thing, after all — and that the author’s performance will inform me.

Having gone to bed late, I slept late, and woke up to the realization that I need to start Making Lists for my upcoming perambulations, and for my duties to the con. Since I will apparently not be doing itinerant readings, I think I will read Blays and Majel’s Excellent Adventure officially, and perhaps carry with me “The Last Train to Clarkesville,” in case there’s another opportunity to just sit and read for an hour (it’s a long story).

This still leaves me with packing (1) the big suitcase full of con stuff and (2) the duffel bag, for my mini-vacay on the way home. I have engaged one of those apartmenty things, with a kitchen, and there’s a Wegman’s somewhere in Corning which I’ll try to hit before I check in. I have my tickets for two days at the museum, and two classes booked — one at the museum, and one at a studio in-town.

I still need to come to terms with how to get out of Baltimore. I’m thinking that Steve and I left BaltiCon 50 at, like, 4 o’clock in the morning and just shot out the Jones Falls well ahead of rush hour. That may be my best plan.

Today, I intend, mostly, to write. I have a few chores, as per usual, and one’s duty to the cats, and I will honor Firefly’s request for Moar Dr. Who. Oh, and I have to find something to read. I think I have the most recent Sebastian St. Cyr in the electronic TBR pile, the second Bad Heirs, a couple of cozies, and a Celia Lake to test drive. Yeah, I won’t starve.

What’s everybody reading today?

Oh. There are four cats in my office.

All the vampires walkin’ through the valley

Today is Book Day for the mmP edition of Ribbon Dance!

What went before ONE: Yeah, that’s no good. Steve yelled at me for weeding for good reason. Weeding does not pay the bills, OTOH, the garden needs upkeep. I b’lieve I will call the nice young man who installed the present garden and see if he has someone on his crew who may be hired to weed, or if he knows of some such person.

It is gorgeous out there today.

What went before TWO: Have my appointment at Hands On Glass in Corning to make a paperweight (my class at the Corning Museum is to make an ornament), and had a lovely chat with Rodi, the owner. Cat boxes scooped, various minor chores accomplished, and now! lunch, with a side of naproxen and muscle relaxants. At the risk of having too much of a good thing, today’s lunch is a grilled ham and cheese.

After all that, it’s back with the crew of the good ship Chandra Marudas. With a little cooperation from the writing brain, and hoping that the muscle relaxants will jolly along the hands, knee, and back (I’m reminded of Gene Wolfe, who was asked what he did when the writing wasn’t flowing. He promptly said, “When I can’t write, I go out to the garden.” Pause. “And after about ten minutes, I remember that I hate to garden and go back inside to write.”)

And on that note..

What went before THREE: Working late…

1,206 new words, closing out the prologue. Not the best prologue every written, but we can fix that, now. WIP total words +/-32,825.

I am V. Tired and hope that the helpful kitties will let me sleep as long as necessary.

Intermission: A kind friend shared this with me the other day: Dr. Who learns BSL (BSL=British Sign Language ASL=American Sign Language)

Wednesday. Sunny and breezy. A little too breezy at the moment to deploy the Awesome New Chair, which I folded up and stuck in the windless corner of the deck last night. The windows are open in my office even though it’s still a little cool, so I’m currently wearing a sweatshirt that I’ll probably be taking off within the hour.

. . . and I have just learned “power ballad,” thanks to Tommy London, who consistently comes from way back outta my left field, and more often than not leaves me saying, “Do what, now?”

So Power Ballad, according to the internets: “The hard rock power ballad typically expresses love or heartache through its lyrics, shifting into wordless intensity and emotional transcendence with heavy drumming and a distorted electric guitar solo representing the ‘power’ in the power ballad.” Examples are Nilsson’s “Without You” (holding place as the grandfather of the form); “November Rain,” from Guns ‘n Roses; and Tina Turner’s “We don’t need another hero.”

You’re welcome.

Today’s to-do includes changing the bed, including finding a lighter weight blanket. I think we’re out of the wool-and-fleece blanket nights now. I have at least two letters to answer; also one’s duty to the cats, ASL review, writing, and assembling and testing the new Lasko space heater that took the long way to Maine and only just arrived yesterday.

For those who Worry, breakfast was a warm rosemary roll with cream cheese and the last of the grapes. Lunch will be fish and a veggie to be named later.

I haven’t begged for reviews for a couple days now, so! If you’ve read a Lee, Miller, or Lee and Miller title lately, please review it in the venue of your choice. Thank you so much.

Well. What’s the weather at your house today?

Today’s blog post brought to you by Mr. Tom Petty, “Free Fallin‘”

. . . and whether pigs have wings

What went before: Sigh.

No fewer than three people have wished me to know that Amazon is holding its Really Big Sale this year during Independent Booksellers Week.

Thank you all for your concern. I am aware that the Large Waterway is scum. I am aware that there is nothing to stop them from having their sale whenever they want to have their sale, even if they’re knowingly playing dirty pool.

However.

Why do writers write? *shrugs* Probably there are as many reasons as there are writers, though I suspect we all share two reasons: We want people to BUY our books and! We want people to READ our books. Note the order of those two items.

Like lesser mortals, writers need money to pay for food, for heat, for rent, for meds, for cat food, and all like that. They therefore put their books on sale everywhere that will pay them a percentage of each sale — big markets, little markets, libraries…wherever.

As a private person, I can deplore a market’s morals. As a writer, am I going to pull my books from said market, so long as they pay me? I am not. Am I a Bad Person, my pool cue as dirty as said market’s table? No. I’m not.

And why is that? Here you go —

I can put my books on sale wherever I please. But I can’t make you buy them from any particular market. Witness the folks who would rather buy books from Enormous River rather than from the Uncle. The point here is not so much author choice (sell books widely; maybe make the rent this month) as it is buyer’s choice (Big Market Bad; I shall buy from a market that is more pleasing to myself).

Asking me to pull my books from a market that accounts for 90+% of my sales is asking me to live outdoors, or starve my cats, and I won’t willingly do either of those things. Buy my books someplace else — your favorite indie bookstore, for an example. You Have the Power!

End of this lecture in Writer Economics 101.

Sunday. Raining and chilly. Steve’s good, heavy, red-and-black flannel shirt is once again pressed into use. This garment has been endlessly useful.

Breakfast was refried grilled veggies with cheese. Lunch will be a salad and soup.

Rook’s tail was following him around and he decided to blame it on Tali, so they’ve been wrasslin’ through three rooms. Firefly is acting as ref. Trooper is visiting Steve in his office.

Did some plotting yesterday. Today I hope for new words.

From the mailbag: Do I have my BaltiCon schedule yet?

Short Answer: Er. No. I received a draft schedule, which was … inadequate … mostly due to the fact that I had not been given a login to the scheduling program, and so couldn’t choose faces. I thought that was straightened out, but I haven’t heard anything else.

Expansion: I would sort of like to have a schedule ahead of arrival, since I like to, oh, prepare. And, also, this is very likely the last time I’ll in-person at a convention, and I also know from the mailbag that there are people who are coming only to see me, or waiting to see the schedule before deciding (which is flattering, but BaltiCon’s a good con; lots more things to do than hang out with an aging, taciturn SciFi writer, so you should definitely come, if you’re thinking about it at all).

In regard to planning ahead, I’m thinking that, if I turn out to be basically on my own, I could wander about the convention doing pop-up readings. My memory of the space isn’t great, but there must be corners, nooks, back tables in the consuite where people could gather and I could read for a bit.

So, here’s the place where you guys can help me out: If you have a favorite scene or story that you would like to hear read aloud, let me know in comments.

Other than all of that — what’s going on with you today?

Today’s blog post from Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland, “The Walrus and the Carpenter.” Yes, I do quote from Alice rather a lot.

Photograph from last night’s special Hall Blocker’s Meeting, in which Hall Blocker Emeritus Kelimcoons Sooper Trooper tutors the club’s youngers in Basic Short Hall Technique.

Suddenly, it’s summer

What went before: I will today condense yesterday, rather than simply cut’n pasting from Facebook as the thing unfolded.

Shortest Form: Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. (And if you have not read this classic by Judith Viorst, do it now.)

Abridged Form: The appliance installers arrived around 10:00, much earlier than I had anticipated, but they failed to call in advance, so the cats were still at large. I managed to get Firefly, Trooper, and Tali into the basement, and closed the door, but Rook had taken shelter — in the laundry room, as I discovered when I escorted the team leader — henceforthly referred to as Installer A — there to show him what he had to work with.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to catch Rook, and then — he disappeared, which was Very Worrisome.

More worrisome was the discovery by Installer A that the water cut-off switch only cut off the hot water, and the cold water was free-flowing. He decided to go forward with the install, after requesting a few towels, to handle the spillage.

SPOILER: A few towels wasn’t enough.

Installers A and B got the old machine out and the new machine in, and this is where it went bad. Water began to spurt EVERYwhere. Flooding ensued, including a vast rainstorm into the basement (yes, where I had cleverly sequestered three out of possible four cats).

Installer A ran downstairs and began flipping cutoffs. I, of course, did not know where the main water cutoff was, because Steve knew, and while he might have told me once, I didn’t remember.

Leaping forward — a plumber was called in. He replaced the faulty cut-off switch, and then, at my request, took me on a tour of the basement, telling me what the various cut-off switches where, and resetting them as we went, and where the main water cutoff was and which direction to turn it in order to shut everything down. While he was here, the plumber also repaired the bathtub faucet. Yes, I expect a bill in excess of what I saved on the appliances on “really good sale.”

So, the laundry room, which includes a closet, with things that sit on the floor of the closet, was flooded; the basement was flooded, the cats were traumatized, and Rook was still missing.

Eventually, everybody left, and I began to clean up the mess.

Whereupon Rook reappeared, and there was much rejoicing.

Everything is dry now, with the exception of an area rug in the basement, which I have the space heater on the case, because the rug is too heavy for me to get outside into the lovely warm sunshine.

And that? Brings you up-to-date.

Onward.

Thursday. Sunny, warm, bird song coming in the open windows OR!

Suddenly, It’s Summer. Girls in shorts running; motorcycles roaring up and down the road, two-by-two. I turned off the oil heat; we’ll let the heat pumps handle it from here.

I did accomplish two accomplishments yesterday in the Midst of It All. I found the name of the Scout captain and first mate on Chandra Marudas, and! that Bechimo was the first modern smartship to come out of the Carresens Yards, built in response to Trader Jethri Gobelyn’s release of the Envidaria.

Last night after I signed off, found those two pieces of information, and treated a nosebleed, I sat down with a glass of wine and realized that, indeed, I was too tired to think straight, much less read either of my books, so I went to bed, put on my fancy wireless headphones, and listened to All Conditions Red while dozing, and eventually falling asleep.

Breakfast was a toasted English muffin with cream cheese and blueberry/ginger jam. Finishing up my first cup of tea.

Today, I am waiting for the pest control guy to come and put back the things that fell in the process of his inspection.

Speaking of Things That Fell, one of Steve’s brilliant kludges gave up its work yesterday, among All the rest of It All. This means I will need to produce a kludge of mine own. Since I don’t approach Steve’s skills in free-balancing large objects (small-object balancing is my skill-set), I will need to make a web, which means buying some rope and some eyelets. If the pest control tech gets here on the 10:00 side of his window, maybe I’ll do that this morning, as well as swing by the grocery.

For those keeping score at home, the new washer and dryer are doing splendidly, much to be preferred over the old.

Oh. Fans of Rookie the Cookie will be pleased to know that — no, he did not destroy my chair in order to shelter from the Invasion of the Appliance People. The chair in question has a foot-rest that folds into the chair, and there’s a space between where the foot-rest folds under and the underneath of the chair, like a little shelf. And that’s apparently where he was hiding.

Anyhoots. ASL tonight. Cats are around and about. Hoping for an Extremely Low Key Day here.

What’s going on with you?

Many pics below. Click on the thumbnail for a bigger view.

Well, how did I get here?

What went before ONE: Aaaand, back. Home Despot only had part of what I wanted, but I did not go to Augusta. Instead I went to the new Reny’s, which is awesome. I bought a plastic folding table for less than $10, which I can sit out on the deck with my chair and have a place to put my tea or my glass of wine, or even my sandwich. I bought olives and soup, and a pair of summer-weight Carhartt utility jeans. But that’s not the Exciting Part.

The Exciting Part is that Reny’s Heard Me and now has a Reny’s Passport! You have to visit all nineteen Reny’s in Maine, and get your passport stamped at each one, then submit it for a chance at the Grand Prize! They’ll even return your passport after the contest is over.

I got my passport stamped at Waterville today — only 18 more to go!

What went before TWO: And, I now need a Big Umbrella, because the little open-sided tent took two of us to put up — and it wasn’t easy, even with. So! I have something to shop for at the next Reny’s on my list.

What went before THREE: I just spent some time breaking down a few of Winter’s Boxes and getting them into the open recycling bin for delivery to the curb tomorrow. I do not think there is a movie on my schedule this evening. I have an Idea about What Happens Next in the WIP.

Time to fix lunch, eh?

What went before FOUR: Writing consisted of Staring into Space, and trying to figure out how to get lightly through a convoluted piece of business without boring myself to death. I think I’ve got it. Of course, I thought that earlier, too.

And, that? Is the afternoon/early evening report.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Damp, but they say no rain. Trash and recycling, including the boxes I broke down yesterday, are at the curb.

Today’s music is one of my favorites, “Once in a Lifetime,” Talking Heads. One of the two major songs that Agent of Change was written to. There was a mini-commentary from one of the band members before Mr. Hunter put on the music, speaking to why this song was Talking Heads first Number One. Said bandmate’s opinion was it had been the line, “How did I get here?” that sold it to the millions, and he may be right. All I know is that the line that sold it to me, for Val Con, was “My god. What have I done?” And — bonus — the muttering at the end about “and now a twister comes…”

I see the signs of a feline decorating aesthetic on and around my desk. Why, yes, that pen does look better under the adding machine; and the Kleenex box on the floor, angled against the wheels of my chair. Why didn’t I think of this?

Breakfast coming up soon — pb&j on a whole wheat English muffin. I have leftover pork, so I guess that’s lunch in some form.

Today is partially about Moving Things for the Grand Arrival of the Washer and Dryer, tomorrow at an as-yet undetermined time. Also, I want to get some writing done.

I don’t know if it works this way for anybody else, and, indeed, it only works this way for me some of the time — but I have to hit a certain Mass of Narrative before I understand the structure that has to be imposed in order to have All of This, err, make sense. I know they tell you in English/Writing class that structure is one of the first things you determine. Bear in mind that, in class, they also tell you that you have to know the POV’s motivation before writing Word One. Yes, if I roll my eyes any harder they will roll right out of my head, thank you.

So! Breakfast for me, coming right up.

What’s coming right up for you?

Today’s blog title brought to you, naturally, from The Talking Heads, “Once in a Lifetime”

EDITED TO ADD, because someone did ask: The other song Agent of Change was written to is was also from The Talking Heads, and it is, of course, “Life During Wartime,” which is basically the plot of Agent of Change...

The wheel in the sky keeps on turning

What went before ONE: And back from dancing. I was the New Kid. It was interesting and everyone was good-natured and very kind. I may have been the only one in the room who had never had theater or dance in my background, and I include the two Littles who were part of our group.

I notice a cross-over between ASL and some of the “body-speak” going on in dance. I suppose if I pursue it, I’ll have yet another physical language under my belt.

I got to interact, very briefly, with the bowli ball’s older, bigger, and more sullen brother. It was too big and goopy to perform the antics of an actual bowli ball. Instead of a gyroscope heart, it had a — what? bag of mud — that made for interesting shifts of velocity, weight, and … squishiness. Not good for tournament play, but an interesting item nonetheless.

After class, I went down Main Street a bit, stopped at Incense and Peppermints to see what they’re doing with the increased space, then Smitty’s Book Cellar to introduce myself and give out a couple cards.

I grabbed some pretzels when I got in, but I think that’s not quite lunch, so a salad it is.

The temperature has cracked 60F/16C; still cloudy and mizzling, off and on.

I hear through the dance class that next Saturday is World Tai Chi Day. Who’s participating?

What went before TWO: 830ish new words, which means! The WIP has cracked 30,000! +/-30,250. Pretty good for a day when I thought I wouldn’t be writing.

Defrosting some Smithfield boneless pork chops for tomorrow’s making-ahead, and also lunch.

The cats have had Happy Hour and Trooper wished to Take Exception to my coming back to the keyboard to finish the scene, so we had to have That Discussion again — the one that makes no sense? About how the clackity-clack on the keys makes cat food? Yeah, that one. He did lay down and go to sleep though, and I finished my scene. So there is that.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Intermittently cloudy and not. Breezy with gusts. Weatherbeans have put out a fire caution; calling for a high temp of 50F/10C. It rained on the overnight.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs with potato and onion, and a side of toast with blueberry-ginger jam, which was actually a bigger breakfast than I usually indulge in, so lunch plans may be adjusted accordingly.

This is Easter Sunday for those who celebrate. When Steve and I first got together, we celebrated by going to BaltiCon. Afteryears, Easter usually snuck up on us. We had the Convention Calendar in our heads and could mostly tell you which cons were on any given weekend, but Easter? Eh–a moveable lay (i.e. non-SF) feast that didn’t have much to do with us.

For those who are interested in cat placement, Trooper is at the moment sitting upright on my lap, purring, and making it easy for me to type. Rook is sprawled at the end of the desk, apparently chewing on the philosophical conversation we had this morning, when he found Tali already in my lap when he wanted to be there. How is it possible that I love him for being The Best Rookie AND Tali for being The Best Tali? This wants Thinking Over.

Second cup of tea brewing.

After I finish my morning letter to the internets, I have some stuff to do downstairs, and then I intend to catch up on all those things I failed to do last week by reason, I guess, of doing other things instead. And do my first pass through the ASL homework.

Directing my gaze into next week — there’s another movie-and-learned-discourse on Monday night; the movie is “Brick.” I may or may not attend. The movie looks interesting, but I have a limited capacity for leaned discourse on the Metaphors of Violence in Cinema.

On Wednesday, my new washer-and-dryer will be delivered, and the sales rep directed me to save up my dirty clothes and start washing the minute the delivery van cleared the driveway, because there’s a 48-hour, if-it’s-wrong-we’ll-make-it-right-today LG policy IF the wrong is reported within 48 hours. So! Laundry Party at Rolanni’s House! Bring snacks.

Thursday evening is of course ASL class. Before that is the Return of the Pest Control Guy, who will be replacing the things he knocked down during his inspection two weeks ago.

I have started reading The Savage, Noble Death of Babs Dionne (by Ron Currie, a Maine author) and in-between am re-reading Sea Wrack and Changewind (by Sharon Lee, another Maine author). Not sure why I got started on that, except it was at my place when I sat down to eat lunch a couple days ago, and one must read something.

My redecorated office door looks very nice in the sunshine. Very glad I decided to take that on.

And that? Is what’s doing at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s doing at your place?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Journey, “Wheel in the Sky”

Cat census and redecorated office door:

Accomplishments in Housekeeping

What went before: I put privacy film on the window in the door that opens onto the deck from my office, and also on the front bathroom window, replacing old film that was tired and curling at the corners.

Saturday. Cloudy and damp. The ‘beans are calling for a high temp of 72F/22C, so apparently spring is going to come in like a fire sprite.

Breakfast was rice crackers and cream cheese, with a side of strawberries. Second mug of tea to hand. Lunch will likely be a salad, but — we’ll see.

I Inspected yesterday’s work and still find it good. I have Corresponded with Balticon. I’m still for dancing, which is a Who are you and what have you done with Sharon Lee? moment, but, hey.

I last night finished Check and Mate (YA), which I — had problems with, and almost metaphorically threw it against the wall Chapter 23ish. I wound up skipping a few chapters and reading the end, which I still had problems with. I have also read by the same author a sample of The Love Hypothesis, which is one of her adult novels, and I have the Exact Same Problems with it, so clearly this author’s books are not My Sort. This is not a denigration of her legions of fans, or indeed of her; it is a statement of personal preference — thank you for understanding the difference between the two.

Insofar as Check and Mate, and the question of is the Chess World accurately portrayed, as I said, and as far as I know — yes. The author herself says that she had to take liberties and invent shortcuts, in order to make a process that in Real Life would be years of slow effort, in order to fit it inside of a short novel that people would actually want to read.

And I think that’s all that’s shakin’ here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory at the moment. As you can see from the previous post on my wall, the cats are anti-shake.

What’s the weather where you are today?

Your feet are going to be on the ground, your head is there to move you around

What went before ONE: Well. that was fun. And also? It looks like I need a new washer and dryer. And somebody to install them and take away the old ones. So, I guess I’ll be going to Agren tomorrow and see what they can do for me.

I sketched in a small scene, but I thought I was going to have time for a larger one, too. Man proposes and god disposes. Something like that. I wonder who the god of washing machines is.

It was not, I should say a Catastrophic Failure. A little bit of water on the floor, easily mopped up, and the machine unplugged because, yeah. Not seeking catastrophe.

And, now, I think I’ll swap out the cat fountains, while I’m playing with water…

What went before TWO: And apparently I have not been having my full quota of fun, because I just found ants around the cats’ feeding station. This is new. And unwelcome. Rook isn’t sure I should be deploying orange stuff, and he’s right to be concerned; it says “pet safe,” but that doesn’t mean I want them eating the stuff. Of course, I don’t want them eating ants, either.

What went before THREE: Cat feeding area de-antified, and rearranged so if the ants are coming in through the wall from the deck (not impossible though not a route they’ve every tried before), they’ll hit the Water Hazard before actual food. I have orange sprayed and cinnamoned. The feeding area is cinnamoned, and directly after I got everything back together there, Trooper walked over and had a drink, so, yeah, the cinnamon doesn’t seem to be a problem.

I’ve vacuumed the whole area, the rug, and under the rug, because — ants, and now?

I believe I will pour a glass of wine to unload the dishwasher with. It’s early, but I’ve earned it.

I therefore say, good-night; everybody stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Oh. I need to find out when Agren opens.

waves

* * *

Monday. Cloudy and breezy. Beans calling for dern near 60F by the end of the day.

Breakfast was cream cheese on rice crackers and applesauce. Lunch may be Out.

Today has become unexpected — yeah, I think I can stop there. First! The Washer/Dryer Hunt. Then to Agway to see if diatomaceous earth is in their repertoire. And! for two hundred dollars and the convertible — this evening, Waterville Creates is sponsoring a free showing (for which I paid a $5 donation, because at the moment I can) of Laurie Anderson’s Heart of a Dog, with Learned Comments from a Colby professor preceding.

In good news, I see no ants around the cat bowls, and I also see evidence that cats have been snacking out of those bowls, so! Win-win. So far.

As soon as my tea’s done, I’ll be on the road.

Who else is having an unexpected day?

Well, that was a Lightning Tour.

Home Depot will be delivering a matched set of LG Washer/Dryer next Wednesday. They will install the new machines, and will make the old machines go away. $600 off the pair, and a $50 rebate from Efficiency Maine for having bought a Energy Star Certified Washer. Bought the protection plan for both. In case you’re wondering, even at six large off, washers and dryers are still spendy.

While I was in Home Depot, I bought window privacy film for the bathroom window, since the film Steve installed seven years ago is rolling up.

Agway did not have food-grade diatomaceous earth, but Aubuchon did. They get it in, so the nice floorman told me, because it’s Chick Season.

I decided to do my grocery shopping at Shaw’s, which was looking like a lost-our-lease sale. Thought about getting the car washed, but judged I had Accomplished Enough if I was also going to the movies tonight.

The groceries are mostly put away. I’ll tend to the rest of it as soon as I’ve finished my cookie. This afternoon, I may do arts and crafts with the bathroom window. I do need to get the trash into the garage for tomorrow’s Formal Progress to the curb, and figure out lunch. Um. Maybe a sweet potato? That could work.

Home Depot was full of helpful people in orange vests bustling around, helping customers, telling them good morning, sweeping the floors and such like. It was almost like Olden Times.

So, that’s my story so far.

Change of plans. I’ll do arts and crafts with the bathroom window on a day when my knee is happier with me. And! Lunch was Progresso lentil and veggie soup with added spices and spinach, bread and cheese on the side.

I Had An Idea about the WIP as I was racing around Waterville like a chicken with my head cut off, so I’d better immortalize that in a sketch before I forget. And, I’ll want to leave early for the movie — ref unhappy knee.

I have the windows in my office open and have put out one set of windchimes. Sounds like summer…

Today’s blog title brought to you by REM, “Stand“

An’ I don’t give a damn ’bout my bad reputation

What went before: OK, then. I’m shutting down the internet for the rest of the day, good people. I am quite apparently at the end of my rope.

Also, yes, there are typos in all of our books. As there are no perfect humans, there are no perfect books. We do our best.

Everybody have a good rest of the day. Feel free to hang out. Drinks are in the fridge; snacks in the cabinet over the sink.

Sunday. Cloudy and — I’m not sure what it’s doing out there. Precipitating. Looks thick — ah, there we are. The garage roof tells the tale — sleet, snow, and rain. What fun.

Breakfast was PB&J on an English muffin. Finishing up my first mug of tea. Lunch can go hang itself. Oh, wait. Mac ‘n cheese with a meatball cut up in it. A little light on veggies, but if we’re in Rebellion against the Tyranny of Food, any food counts.

Towels are washing. I need to change the tablecloth today. Otherwise, I have another scene to hand-draft, and I need to at least look at the ASL homework. In and around one’s duty to the cats, of course.

I did draft a substantial scene yesterday, which I’m very pleased with. Also Had A Notion, and Made A Note. Will consider that further today.

Other than that, yesterday was . . . not very pleasant. It’s lowering to realize that, at — counts on fingers — 72, I’m still so inept at people. You’d think I’d’ve learned something. Well — scary thought — I probably did learn something. Just not enough. And of course I no longer have an Emotional Support Steve, and while the cats do their best, cats are, umm. Yeah. “Rend” and “nap” are good coping mechanisms, honestly. But there’s a vast middle ground that “run” doesn’t completely address.

Speaking of cats, Trooper has two days in a row refused to eat the gravy with meds in it. He’s still eating food, except when he forgets where the food bowls are, and last night, for the first time in a long time, he engaged with the red dot, and chased it all over the living room until he he lost interest, or energy, and let the kids have at it. He sleeps a lot (yes, yes; he’s a cat, but still), and yells at me at lot when he’s awake, but I don’t know why. I don’t think he’s in pain (ref “cat”), but nothing I do, or don’t do, seems to be It. So, that continues to be worrisome, and I’ll be having a chat with the vet this week.

The book club is going to start up again in mid-May, now that people are coming back from overwintering in the warm worlds. Our first book is The Savage Noble Death of Babs Dionne, by Ron Currie, and I’ve gotten that onto my tablet to read.

I finished The Dangerous Duke last night, and started Check and Mate; …Babs Dionne and The Mysterious Marquis are on deck.

And I think that’s it from the Cat Farm this morning.

What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Ms Joan Jett, “Bad Reputation” — the referenced video is also a history lesson, for those who are interested in the creative process, thinking outside the box, and believing in yourself.

And she could hear the highway breathing

What went before: I have had a Very Trying Afternoon. I had to yell. And then I had to drop everything and rush. And now I’m exhausted, but at least the fix is in. Or may be in. Apparently, I was supposed to have known something by telepathy, and then understand that the reason none of my questions were being answered was because — telepathy.

The pest guy dropped by in the Midst of It All, and while I transcribed/expanded/edited the scene I wrote yesterday, I didn’t get a chance to do anything new or noteworthy and I’m exhausted, did I say? Also, I want to throw things.

On the plus side, the cat’s new stainless steel fountain arrived, and I was able to wash it and set it up. The old gravity waterer is still there, to let the cats know they’re in the right place, but I intend to move it the next time it needs to be refilled.

So. It hasn’t started raining or snowing or whatever yet, that’s tomorrow. Which is another day. Possibly even a better day.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Saturday. Raining; the ‘beans say snow is possible, but only to decorate the grass and make driving interesting.

Breakfast was the last of the little potatoes fried with onion and a chopped up meatball. I made a Tactical Error some time back and bought a bag of meatballs, thinking, “But we would always eat spaghetti!” Which we would, but spaghetti for one is just too sad, so the meatballs have kind of been huddling in the back of the freezer, which is Unfair of Me, so I’m going to just add them to Things, until they’re gone, and! Lesson learned.

Oh, look, there’s snow mixed in the rain now. I hope the ‘beans are happy.

On the Fashionista Front, I am today wearing one of Steve’s toasty warm Carhartt flannel shirts with the usual jeans-of-many-pockets, and! Silver hoops in my ears. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve worn hoops in my ears.

I am hoping today for … quiet. Just — I want to sit in a comfy chair somewhere in this house with a pad of paper and a pen and sketch scenes and throw ideas around, and I really don’t think that’s too much to ask. *glares at universe*

What are your hopes for the day?

Today’s blog title brought to you by The Talking Heads, “And She Was”

Saturday morning cat census, and the Long Back Yard this morning: