everybody talks about the weather – Page 6

Winter in his snowy white coat

So! As I was saying — it’s Tuesday.

I woke up ‘way too early, ate an English muffin with cheese, sat with the Happy Lamp over a cup of tea and was at work on the WIP before 8 am, which is, coincidentally, when it started snowing. I decided to leave the trash and recycling in the garage; they can make their spiritual journey to the curb next Tuesday.

I’m taking a break from the WIP to make phone calls, and am now waiting for the PCP’s office to call me back about whether I can squish both MRIs into one MRI on Saturday, or if I’ll have to be rescheduled.

I will not be going to needlework this evening. In fact, I doubt that there will be needlework this evening.

Tomorrow first thing is my PT appointment. If I’m plowed out. If I’m not plowed out, Imma be right here, writing. Yeah, you might say I’m conflicted.

It is, as I write this, still snowing, and the ‘beans are sticking tight to their 6-9 inches, slowly petering out around 4 am.

While I’m taking my break, I’ll go downstairs to do my duty to the cats, and start warming the oven for lunch. Then back to work. I really want to finish this draft from the end of the month/year, being as I missed finishing it by the end of November.

buys the boys in the basement those special pretzels they like — and another keg of beer. Always with the beer, those guys.

And how’s the weather where you are today?

Snow cats and book drop

Business first: Tomorrow! CIVILIZED BEHAVIOR: Adventures in the Liaden Universe(R) #36, featuring three short stories set on Colemeno of recent memory, a speech, and an author’s forward will be released tomorrow in ebook from All of the Usual Suspects, and! in trade paper from Amazon.

Wednesday. Trash Day (holiday schedule). Cold and still. It snowed! overnight.

sigh

Breakfast was naan and hummus and grapes. I haven’t had naan or hummus, either, since Forever, but I went to the Other Grocery yesterday (where I got carded*, all 73 years and every silver white hair of me), because I was so tired of the Usual Grocery’s mediocre veggies and fruits, and also because I thought the Other Grocery would be a surer source for turkey fillets.

I was wrong about the turkey fillets, but I may have gone overboard on fresh stuff, and the problematic bottle of wine, and the hummus was right at my eye level as I turned a corner, and they had helpfully staged the naan right with it and — I was doomed. And it made a lovely breakfast, and I regret Nothing.

Today is another Real Life Day — Physical Therapy in a little over an hour, then a visit to the Usual Grocery to get the stuff the Other Grocery doesn’t carry (or, to be fair, that I forgot about yesterday). Then I have some phone calls to make — Fidium again! All three of the — repeaters? — are out, what fun — and then I need to adjust my Anthropic claim on account I have to Prove that Steve is dead.

I hate having to prove this particular equation, though to be fair, I’m not having to do it nearly so often as I had to, last year this time.

Tomorrow is also my last stained glass class, so I hope I’m discovered to be a soldering wizard.

Friday, Sarah will be by in the morning to help the cats clean up, and it looks like after that I’ll have Friday afternoon through Monday morning cleared to write new words.

If I was a smart writer — a point often in dispute — I’d not only work on doing the correx from the six-day sprint, but also sketch in the scenes that need to be written going forward.

I tried to watch TV last night, but had no brain (this is pretty bad, when you don’t even have enough brain left to sit passively and be spoon-fed a story), so I cuddled on the couch with the cats and listened to music until they jumped down for a snack and I went to bed.

So! All that said — how’re y’all doing this morning? Any snow at your place?

Wednesday morning cat census.
_______
*Busted:

Sapphire Days, Peridot Knights

Weather first: It snowed this afternoon.

Earlier That Same Day: Taking a break to bring the windchimes in for the winter.

Today is the 45th celebration of the day Steve Miller and I married. Against both of our better judgments, and yet, it was the only way to make certain we would each have someone to speak for us, if we couldn’t speak for ourselves.

I am once again thankful that we were often in the situation of having to put off Official Celebrations until whatever project happened to be on-deck was caught up. This means that working on the WIP is nothing out of the ordinary for an anniversary.

In honor of the day, I am wearing one sapphire earring and one peridot earring — my birthstone and Steve’s adopted birthstone (he didn’t like rubies). The air cleaners are on in the living room and the bedroom, and all of the cats joined me in Steve’s office to work.

I have a pizza, which I may or may not partake of this evening — pizza was the Official Standby Celebration Food — and now the sun has come out.

Back to work I go.

I hope everyone’s having a good morning.
#
So! I rearranged the WIP, sorted what happens on which day, which was really needed. I pulled some scenes, and adjusted others. The whole manuscript in its new configuration is now printing out so I can do a read-through tomorrow.

For the moment, I’m finishing up my tea and cookies (note to self: find recipe for soft-baked lemon-sugar cookies; those things are yummy). After, I’ll go downstairs and do the cat box change out that I missed doing, what with the back and then the rush to catch up my stained glass. Then a shower, and then?

Maybe tonight is Kpop Demon Hunters. Why not?

I have decided that I will be making my own Thanksgiving dinner this year. There are certain things that I want to eat, and it’s not that hard to bake a couple of turkey fillets, pop a tube of biscuits, mix up a bowl of mashed, and another of dressing, if I wanna be Really Crazy, and throw some asparagus in a pan. Pie is readily available in Hannaford and Shaw’s and whipped cream is an easy buy.

So, this year, I’ll have what I want, as much or as little, while feeling neither forlorn nor bereft, and! I’ll have leftovers. And nor I won’t have to drive to Lisa’s or put up with Front and Main or The Senator. (All of these are very nice restaurants; I just don’t want to have to cope with any of them on Thanksgiving.)

That’s a Decision, then, and it even feels reasonable, which trying to convince myself to go to the buffet at Lisa’s just … wasn’t.

What else?

. . . not much actually. Days get weird when you prioritize writing.

I can report that it has stopped snowing — some hours ago, actually. Just a squall. Or a threat. Whatever.

So! Signing off for the night.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe out there.

Gloomy ol’ day with writing and soup

What went before: I think I may have wrassled a working book outta The System. I’ll check again when I get home after needlework.

In the meantime, the hospital decided it had been coy enough and decided to Reveal that it had the orders for the xray of my spine, which — three weeks in the making! — took 15 minutes.

It is, however, done, and I now have tomorrow, most of Thursday, all of Friday to do writing and other needed tasks here at the Confusion Factory. That is, of course, unless I decide that I really have to go to the ocean on Friday. Because a drive to the ocean is always in order.

It is very warm outside in the world. While I was out, I filled up the car and bought nine! dollars! worth of California grapes. I gotta start watching prices closer.

So, I’m checking out for the day.

Y’all stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.
#
And the work day commences. The goal is 1,000 words. My supervisor is skeptical:

#
Wednesday. Rainy, cool, and gloomy.

Had to frog a scene and rewrite. New material is up for this afternoon. Did a load of wash, because I could.

Taking a break now to make ham and bean soup for lunch — ref rainy, cool, gloomy — and glare at my email.

Got the results of my spine xray and my bloodwork back. I would like to talk to my doctor about what these things mean — remember when you could talk to your doctor on the phone? — but I guess I’ll wait until December.

In slightly better news, I do have a PT appointment in mid-November — in Oakland! (aka 3 miles from my house; 6 mile RT). I was pretty sure I was going to have to drive to Augusta (aka 40 miles RT) for PT, so that was a nice medical surprise. I’m hoping that the therapist and I can put her heads together and get a long-term fix that doesn’t require surgery, because we’re avoiding surgery, we are. With bells on.

The cats have each checked in with me this morning, and Rookie did an hour of supervision at the beginning of the shift, but apparently rewriting is boring.

It looks like, if I’m going to the ocean, Friday is my bet, before next week’s nor’easter. Friday drive to the ocean is therefore inked in for Friday.

So! For those reading along: How ’bout that Bubo? Pretty dern bold, I thought him. Or perhaps I mean foolhardy.

What’s the weather where you are?

And I’ll know my song well before I start singin’

What went before: Coon cat happy hour has been served, and I’ve brought a glass of wine with me back to the desk.

I managed to put out the worst of the business-side fires, but I still have a pretty big stack of stuff on the physical desk, which I should at least sort through so I even know what’s there.

So, I’ll be doing some sorting, then remembering to eat something, and eventually going to bed.

The plan for tomorrow is to get up, write, do my duty to the cats, and go to the grocery store in-between writing and business. We are the Queen of Split Second Timing, We Are.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Thursday Morning Supervisor:

Thursday. Raining and chilly. A trip to the grocery store will not be happening today. Tomorrow, an it snows a blizzard, I will have to do the grocery shopping.

Got up early (breakfast was cream cheese and the last of the grapes), took my cup of tea to the back and booted up the writing machine. This morning, it took me a while to get into the writing groove. I blame last night’s prolonged panic attack in which I was wrestling with the fact pressure of too many things! Too few hands! And Just Get It Done doesn’t work anymore.

OK. Just Get It Done only ever worked because the one of us who was overwhelmed pulled in the other, and we shuffled around needed tasks, and chose which other tasks to ignore until the crisis cleared and then both put our shoulders to the edge of the crisis and pushed.

Which, I guess, would be my point.

I did eventually manage +/- 1,240 new words, and cleaned the cat boxes and took a walk, and now I need to rustle something to eat so I can proceed with the business portion of the program.

I do wonder why I can’t share posts to groups from my phone anymore. I used to be able to do that — as recently as, like, last week. Now, my phone wants me to add things to “my story,” which was ON by default, because of course it was. It’s off now. I think.

Here, have a Snippet:

Val Con finished his tea and waved the pot away when she lifted it.

“Some of this is because it is a very young tree, still, though it was transitioning for centuries. Also, it was born to be a hero, to draw enemy attention away from the Exodus.” He slid from stool to deck and gave her a smile.

“And some portion of the matter is because it is a tree, and it remembers that, once, dragons had served it.”

Today’s blog post title comes to you from Mr. Robert Zimmerman, writing and singing as Bob Dylan, from back before music went all political. “It’s a hard rain gonna fall.”

There is moonlight and moss in the trees

What went before: Well, the day didn’t go exactly as I had planned. In addition to the chores on the list (The List), I needed to fix the toilet, which I did, go me. Then I sat down to drink my hot chocolate, and Rookie jumped in my lap just as I had put my mug aside and was getting up, and put me to sleep for 45 minutes — Trooper really worked with this kid — and then the Sleep Clinic, where I have a Stoopidly Early appointment tomorrow called to let me know that I have to bring in the whole machine tomorrow, not just the SD card (because their card reader’s broken, she said. I don’t ask questions, any more), and then I remembered that I wanted to buy a more reasonable thing to keep my earrings in, so I went over to Esty and bought myself a birthday present, and … Oh! Atlas Vet, where I attended the Open House on Saturday, called to tell me I had won a prize in the drawing! Ten percent off my first visit, if that happens within a year. So, yay, I won a prize.

I did write 996 words, not the scene I thought I was going to write, and had notes for and everything, and I’d complain, but it’s a good scene, so I may just call this The Book of Good Scenes, said book now weighing in at 70,600ish words.

Tomorrow, as mentioned, Stoopidly Early Appointment, after which I’m going to try to have breakfast at Governor’s, because I haven’t eaten out in … a while now, and we mustn’t lose the Social Graces. Tomorrow evening is needlework and in-between is chores.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll check in tomorrow as can.

Tuesday. Sunny and crisp. Cool enough when I left the house that I wore my new jacket. Didn’t need it by the time I left Governors.

Trash and recycling at the curb.

Met a nurse in the elevator up to the sleep center, who informed me that this was a “Groot Day” which — good to know.

Turns out it’s not just the card readers that are down at MEGen, but the whole computer network, system-wide. So my NP was taking notes and writing down stats on a 3×3 yellow pad of sticky notes. I said that they ought to get her a reasonable notebook if she was busted back to pen and paper. They were pathetically pleased that I have the myAir ap, and could show them my stats on my phone (which! triggered a memory of when Steve and I first arrived in Maine and were looking for an apartment; having to go to the bank and change a twenty for quarters, then find a pay phone outside of the Kmart in Waterville, and work our way through the classifieds in the Sentinel. The past isn’t only a different country; it’s a different planet.)

The happy news is that my numbers were so good that I’m cleared to drive for three years. So that’s actually a relief, though I still have to visit the sleep folks annually, to prove that I’m maintaining.

Went to Governor’s, had an unhealthy breakfast of sausage gravy on biscuits, scrambled eggs, and homefries, because if you’re going to go the low road, you might as well go all the way.

Stopped at the post office on my way home, which I haven’t done in a while, then at Uncle Deans to buy some lavender, because I had none.

Home now, having been greeted by three out of a possible three coon cats, all of whom wanted to know where their gravy was; and now I need to get with my correspondence.

Not sure how much writing I’ll get done today, since it’s a short day. Here’s a SNIPPET from yesterday:

“Come here often?”

“As often as my lady allows.”

She sighed mournfully, shaking her head. “Married, is it? That’s too bad.”

“Now, I find it very agreeable.”

“Yeah? What’s she like, your lady?”

He smiled gently. “She is bold and brilliant; strong and subtle. I reverence and stand in awe of her – even when she is casting for compliments.”
#
How’s Tuesday looking in your piece of the world?

Today’s blog post title courtesy of The Eagles, “Seven Bridges Road.”

You really know how to dance

What went before ONE: All righty, then.

Agway run completed. I did not buy plants. Yay, me. I did buy monofilament string — aka fishing line — so I can hang the ball I made at Corning in a sunny window where it belongs, instead of skulking on my bookshelf.

Hit the Hannaford, picked up my prescriptions, bought Fancy Feast Gravy Lover’s Pate, which is the preferred of the moment. Took the returnables to the redemption center. Caused consternation. Gassed up the car, so I don’t have to do it on Saturday. Apparently the Rusty Lantern/Irving at Webb Road isn’t supplying a means for its customers to clean off their windshields anymore, so I’ll be looking for a new gas station. Shame; that one’s really convenient.

What else? Oh, performed one’s duty to the cats, and took a walk.

It is now what time? Yes? Yes, you, right there in front. Ex — yes, say again, please for the guy in the back row who’s asleep?

It’s lunch time!

And then? It’s time to go to work.

poof

What went before TWO: I remember coming in to Albany more than a decade ago from an exceptionally long and fraught train trip which involved the train actually running out of food (long story; bad trip; it was years ago, and man did I learn to hate CSX), and Steve pulled us into the Cracker Barrel because we needed something to eat. I remember looking at the menu, then looking at Steve and saying, “There’s no food here.” “There’s chicken soup,” he said. “We’ll both have chicken soup, then we can go get some real food.” This was the first and only time I was in a Cracker Barrel.

Ah, memories…

Patched up what I wrote yesterday and put it in its rightful place within the WIP, which now weighs just about 65,420 words. Tomorrow, I need to sit down and plot out the next section, even though my brain wants to write the cool! action! scene! over there. I’ve gotta figure out how they got there, first, Brain. Gimme a break, hey?

Anyhow, knocking off early tonight to, yanno, hang away my clothes, write a couple of checks, and see if I can brainstorm not one, but two! titles. Brainstorms are considerably less fun with only one brain, in case that was a question anybody had.

So! Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Cloudy and cool. Thunderstorms are on the menu.

Last night at bedtime, I made it a point to find Rookie, who often spends the night on the box on Steve’s desk, and carry him with me to the bed, thinking that I would once again introduce this as an option. I put him down, and he lay exactly where and how I’d put him until I’d gotten under the covers, turned out the light, settled on my pillow and drifted off. When I drifted out, about two hours later, he had relocated to my other side, tunneled between my arm and my side, and was snoring. Also, Tali had taken over the prized spot on my ankle. I went back to sleep and woke up at 7, much refreshed.

Today cutting off cat toes is on my menu, and I managed to grab Rook as he was terrorizing his sister. I put him on my lap and began to clip his claws and he was So Good. He made no complaint, or any attempt to play Disappearing Leg, and started to purr when I flipped him over on is back to amputate his back toes. When we were finished, he just — stayed, purring his silly, puffy purr, until Tali walked by and then of course he had to jump down to see what she was doing.

I have finished my first cup of tea. Trooper has had a can of Fancy Feast. Breakfast will be something to do with the peach I bought yesterday, and when I took the stoopid sticky tag off, the skin tore. Lunch will be … something.

Towels are in the washer. In addition to the cutting of cat toes, the to-do list includes one’s duty to the cats, a walk, and plotting.

What’s on your to-do list for Friday?

Today’s blog post brought to you by The Romantics, “What I like about you”

Below, a picture of one of the Agway store cats, and a picture of Tali, who is apparently taking a covert ops course from the Rivers of London foxes.

Sinking in

What went before: Slow getting started, but once I got going, I managed to pull a couple words out of the keyboard.

+/-1050 new words, bringing the WIP to +/-65,200.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Thursday. Sunny and cool. Weatherbeans calling for the higher 70s-in-F this afternoon. At the moment, it’s too cool to open the windows.

This morning, I need to go out to collect an extension of the new prescription, which needs to be Tapered Off, who knew? And also to Agway for a couple of things, including fishing line.

I see, otherwheres, that KJ Charles is being victimized by someone who can’t read reporting to Amazon numerous “errors” in Copper Script (which is good — read it). These are, as it turns out British spelling, British sentence structure, British slang, and in a couple of cases Actual Words that said Arbiter of Error didn’t recognized and couldn’t be arsed to look up.

I grew up reading British novels in their native Britishness, back before US Publishing decreed that Americans were too stupid to accommodate a few extra “u”s and whatnot. Welp, US Publishing has got what it wanted, with a helping of “If I don’t recognize a word, it must be a typo, because I know All The Words.”

My reading of British literature reflects in my own writing, and I have once or twice had to gently inform people that, no, that is an ACTUAL WORD, GET A DAMNED DICTIONARY, WHY NOT? Ahem. And I really despair of us as a people. OTOH, ignorant people are easier to control, and we’re into control, this episode, so there’s a win for the bullies and the cheats.

deep breath

I said upstream that you ought to read Copper Script — that is, of course, if Amazon hasn’t pulled it for having too many errors, because Amazon has been known to do this. And, yanno, Ms Charles doesn’t have anything better to do except go through an already-published book, fixing errors that aren’t wrong, so it can go back into the catalog and start earning again.

I know some folks think they’re dong Good Things by “reporting” errors and typos to Amazon. Trust me — they’re not. As I mentioned, oh, maybe this time last week? There are no perfect books. There are errors and typos in all books. Mostly, they don’t hurt anybody (I’m not talking errors like “half my book is a scifi adventure and the other half is a cookbook” or “my book is 400 blank pages” or things of that nature). Certainly, they’re not worth pulling the creator away from her new project, and pissing her off, too.

I want more books from KJ Charles, and? Abusing authors isn’t the way to get more books.

Really, I ought to start a list.

Anyhow! Having ranted and perhaps educated — Good morning! How’s your day shaping up?

Here, have a picture of Rook inna sink:

I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing

What went before ONE: So, fixed what I wrote yesterday, placed it in the WIP, fixed the chapter-by-chapter, and? That’s probably all the writing-related tasks I’m doing today.

The WIP, still titleless, clocks in at +/-64,160 total words.

What went before TWO: Had a good time at needlework; actually remembered to stop at the grocery before I got home, have served up coon cat happy hour. Need to put away the rest of the groceries, then find something to eat.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Wednesday. Sunny and cool. Windows in my office are open.

Google initially told me that it was going to be “rainy” today. Questioned more closely, it admitted that there was a moderate chance of rain between 4pm and 5pm. Which piece of optimism Wunderground does not support, though it’s teasing me with the possibilities of thunderstorms on Friday. I could use me a good thunderstorm.

Trooper has already eaten a can and a half of gooshy food. Which reminds me that I ought to weigh him.

Breakfast was pb&j on a whole wheat English muffin. Tali came by to sit on my lap and purr while I finished my first cup of tea, so that was pleasant. Lunch has not yet suggested itself.

Today’s to-do includes doing one’s duty to the cats, exploring online/possibly subscription exercise programs (I know this about myself: If I haven’t made a commitment of some kind, I will not Just Exercise out of the abundance of my own good sense.), take a walk, and! writing.

My embroidery project at the moment was supposed to be a shirt I want to embroider, but I haven’t gotten my act in gear to decide what I want to do exactly and position the designs. So, I’ve been working on the little piece of handwork I was taking with me when we traveled. It was “supposed” to be an outline — by which I mean, not filled in — but I had started to fill it in as practice for stitching fur, and for twisting two colors of thread together. Last night, I finished the center. Pic below.

What relaxation project are you working on?

Today’s blog post title once more from ee cummings: “you shall above all things be glad and young”

I travel the world and the seven seas

Business first: If you have read a Liaden novel or short story collection, or, heck, a Carousel book or short story collection, please consider leaving a review on the bookselling site of your choice.

Thank you.

What went before ONE: Chores done, including remaking the bed with nice clean sheets, that may help me sleep tonight. I have regretfully had to close the windows, because there is not a breath of air moving outside and it was 85F/29C in my office, which is — too warm.

Wordle has also been solved, so! I guess it’s time to find something to eat for lunch, so I can go to work.

What went before TWO: I cleared off half of the top of the supply dresser, so Rook and Tali can use the side window. Not that any of these cats are spoiled.

What went before THREE: Hey, it’s raining. We really need rain.

I? Am not done inputting the correx, but I’ve come to a picky bit, and I’m tired, so instead of pushing myself to frustration — knocking off now; early-ish to bed, and tomorrow’s a new day.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

What went before FOUR: I think they’re trying to tell me something:

Monday, and it’s a Beautiful Morning. I have opened every window in this house that opens. Sirius XM popup channel 80s ChillPill is my morning entertainment, currently listening to “Sweet Dreams” from the Eurythmics.

I had a lovely, long sleep, despite which the day started . . . awkwardly.

As has become the habit, I got up and immediately gave Trooper his gravy-and-meds and got dressed while he was chowing down. Came out to the kitchen with the intention of making scrambled eggs with Inclusions, followed by Trooper who was screaming his head off, despite having just eaten. I applied snuggles; that wasn’t it. I offered dry food, which is never it, anymore, but I was starving and really needed to eat. Yelling continued to a point where I actually couldn’t think, and when you can’t think to scramble eggs, you’re in a bad spot.

I put Trooper, and Rook, for company, into the bathroom, closed the door, and went back to the kitchen to make my own breakfast. Got the Inclusions into the frying pan. Reached for the salt grinder, and?

The base fell off. Salt everywhere. I mean, yeah, thank ghu it was salt and not, oh, molasses, but yikes! I finished making breakfast, let Trooper and Rook out of the bathroom, ate breakfast, opened a can of gooshy food for Trooper, who at least licked the gravy, and cleaned up the salt. I don’t have any more coarse salt to pour into the Oxo grinder, and anyhow the Oxo grinder and I need to have A Talk . . . and — sigh. OK, guys, the Eurythmics was great, and Whitney Houston I can tolerate, but I draw the line at Peter Cetera. I guess the 80s were a mixed bag.

Where was I? Oh, Come to Jesus with the Oxo Salt Grinder. I do have a McCormick disposable grinder full of salt, so that’s what I’m playing with now.

Recapping: The salt has been cleaned up, Trooper has had his second breakfast and is in his box on my desk, sleeping. Junior Grade Cats are distributed in various windows. I need to stage the trash, perform my duty to the cats, do the bookkeeping I’ve been avoiding, write a letter, make a call for my annual eye appointment, and then? I can write.

How did your Monday start out?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by the Eurythmics, “Sweet Dreams“