everybody talks about the weather – Page 13

Big wind, tiny void

Big wind tiny void
curls in safety, softly warm
Big wind dies, void sighs
–Haiku off the cuff, Sharon Lee

What went before ONE: And the bread’s out. Not a bad looking loaf, though I got a little carried away with the dusting.

Recipe here

TWO: Big wind blowing. The Teeniest Void Kitten climbed into my lap when it started, and curled up into a knot the size of Rhode Island.

This of course makes it very easy to type.

Ren Zel and Anthora are an … interesting couple.

THREE: What went before: So, I thought I was waiting for a box of bookmarks today, but it turns out that what I was really waiting for was a box full of Ribbon Dance mmps! Coming out on April 29!

In re BaltiCon: People are asking if there will be a Friends of Liad breakfast and/or a Teddy Bear Tea.

The Friends of Liad breakfast, which is not a con event, but a gathering of the clan to share a meal, and to catch up with each other, is definitely possible; the hotel restaurant is able to accommodate a group. I can’t tell you when, because I need to find what my schedule will be.

Teddy Bear Tea: is traditionally a con event, and therefore vulnerable, as all events, to the necessities of the program.

Bottom Line: I don’t have any information to share until I get together with BaltiCon Programming, and their schedule is finalized.

Summing Up: Watch the skies.

Saturday. Sunny and gonna get warm. Monday, say the weatherbeans, it will snow.

Breakfast was naan, hummus, and a mini-orange. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch is on the knees of Zao Shen.

This morning, I need to change the strip that keeps the heart monitor stuck to my chest. No, I am not happy about this.

After that — we’ll see. Maybe I’ll go for a ride, being as it’s gonna be so warm and all. I haven’t been to Belfast since forever. Maybe get lunch at the coop. That could work.

In other news, and in the spirit of saving the best for last — it comes about that the anniversary edition of I DARE will be published by Baen in December. Here’s the new cover; art by Sam Kennedy.

Baby, you want the forgivin’ kind and that’s just not my style

What went before: Everything checked off the to-do list except homework. Which is why homework needs to happen in the morning, and after-lunch is writing time.

We’ll figure it out.

Tomorrow, we are to have rain. I will be staying in. The cats have planned a quiet day of napping in honor of St. Gertrude.

And with all that said, and Coon Cat Happy Hour coming right up!

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

. . .

A blessed St. Gertrude’s day to all.

Monday. Raining. Flooding is in our future, though probably not in my personal future, the river being Way Down THERE. One small patch of snow remains in the Long Back Yard.

Breakfast was rice cakes with cream cheese and the last of the sad, black grapes. First cup of tea is well underway. I have a can of tuna and a can of tomato soup. I believe lunch has been decided.

Today is the Actual Anniversary — five years since my mastectomy. About now On That Day, I would have been getting injected with mercury or some such item, much to Steve’s horror, so I could be placed into a machine that would map my innards, pre-op. I remember the tech administering the shot telling me it would hurt. She wasn’t wrong.

The Garmin watch continues to please, even as it adds to the day’s puzzles. Yesterday, I would have — in fact, I believe I did — tell you that I had a mostly quiet and peaceful day, munching through my to-do list, and writing.

Around 8:00, my watch sent me a very kind message, telling me that I had had a Very Stressful Day, poor dear, and should consider relaxing now.

I’ll be interested to see how this plays out, going forward. It may be that the watch and I have Very Different Takes on Stress.

Today, my choice is either to go back to bed or write, so I believe I will write.

What are your choices today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Bachman-Turner Overdrive, a Canadian band, for no reason other than the fact that I’m listening to the radio and the DJ just said that he had never thought of the band as Canadian. OHkay. Anyhow, if you need to get moving, as who does not: “Let it Ride.”

Below, a picture of the Hall Blockers Cadets St. Gertrude’s Day project:

Tali’s natal day, clockwork edition

What went before: Well. My watch is updating. I am not accustomed to the watch being my main point of information, so that will be a change. Also, some things that are I guess supposed to be intuitive — aren’t. Like, yanno, putting on the band. I did finally figure it out, but Jeez Louise as somebody once said.

I did get my reading of the WIP done, despite It All. It’s not Terrible, there are some things that are in the wrong place, but since I’m trying to match at least three separate timelines so that everybody can arrive at their meeting at the right times, that’s probably, oh, normal instead of evidence of a Descent into Dementia.

Yanno? When I was twenty, I never worried about a Descent into Dementia. Just sayin’.

I should probably go find some cheese to put on a piece of bread, brew a cup of chamomile tea, and take it and my book with me to bed, hoping for a better day tomorrow, which is!

Tali’s third birthday.

Sunday. Cloudy. Well. I suppose I can concede to the Weatherbeans in this. Foggy. I am led to believe that it will be foggy all day, which I suppose is possible, at the rate that the snow is sublimating. The Long Back Yard is more grass than snow. I was just watching a crow sorting through dead leaves and old grass and fly off with a beakful into the Really Tall Pine Tree, so I’ll guess I’ll have new neighbors.

Breakfast was biscuit with sausage and a slice of cheddar with black grapes. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will be — yeah, whatever. Maybe a scone.

As planned, I just put myself and my book into bed at 9, and read while I drank my tea. Firefly and Rook joined me in the bed. Tali took the overlook position at the top of the bookcase. The new watch says I had a “highly restorative” sleep of 7 hours and 40 minutes, with lots of Deep and REM, which have been in short supply lately, and probably why I’ve been feeling so tired.

I must say that I’m enjoying Mr. Harney’s Egyptian Chamomile tea. I’m alternating with the Republic of Tea Chamomile Lemon that a friend sent me, which I’m also enjoying. I’m trying to simplify my life, but I really do think that I’ll order in replacements of both.

I am not dizzy this morning, and I’m counting that a win. I am feeling rather meh (Note to Weatherbeans: Some sunshine would help over here), so, as advised by my new notepad, I made a list, and I do feel (a little) better. On the list is a blankie run, changing out the cat fountains, buying cpap supplies, homework, and writing.

Writing may only be working with the correx/additions I identified yesterday, but that still counts. And! one of the benefits of reading your WIP over (and over and over and…) is that engaging with the story produces more story (i.e. You know what’s missing here? Or, happier: You know what comes next?) I don’t know how writers who just start and flame through to the end of the first draft without ever stopping to read what they’ve already written do it, honestly.

As mentioned previously, today is Tali’s third birthday. She has been celebrating energetically, chasing spring, ball and her kid brother all over the house, so much in motion that I am not at this time able to offer a picture of the Birthday Cat. She did come by and check in with Trooper. He muttered at her, she cleaned his ears, then bolted off to discipline Rook.

The new watch is … interesting. It has a lot more functionality than the FitBit, and is much bigger — despite which, it’s lighter and more comfortable on my wrist. The FitBit and I had never had a warm relationship, even before Google decided to try to force me to buy a Google watch by driving the FitBit insane. By comparison, the Garmin (bear with me, people; we all have to work with the brain we have) is calm and friendly. I’m not used to having so much information on the watch but even so it’s easy to navigate, and I can of course add and subtract the information I want to see. I think I did the right thing.

I’m about halfway through Tomb of the Dragons, and having a good time with it. I had to stop and explain to Firefly that these were not Liaden dragons, because they lived in another book. It’s a hard concept, but I think she got it. At least, she blinked her eyes and went back to sleep.

And that’s it from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

So! Who has sunshine where they are?

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.”