Tag: for your viewing pleasure

The untranslated stars

We have traversed the Longest Day and emerged from the Shortest Night.

Winter is coming.

What came before: All righty, then. Coming up on Coon Cat Happy Hour and I will be joining them this evening.

Following is Facebook housekeeping; not applicable to those reading on other platforms.

Thanks to everyone who has explained to me that Boosting = I pay money to FB. That will not be happening. As to FB giving me money, I don’t recall ever handing over anything like a Paypal link or a bank account number to Corporate, so that’s unlikely to happen, as well.

What I believe I will do is crosspost to groups for a week, and then call a vote. Someone made the very valid point that there are people who only want the Official News, and someone else made the equally valid point that it’s easy enough to skip the personal crossposts. Since I don’t want the Official News people to skip over the stuff they want because I’ve taught them my posts are Mere Nattering, the try-it-and-evaluate system seems reasonable.

ENDS Facebook housekeeping

Writing has happened. Yet Another Chapter-by-Chapter has been put together; some old words have been polished and rearranged. I’m really looking forward to getting to a place where new! words! can happen, but we ain’t there yet.

And that’s all there is from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

#

Saturday. Sunny and heading for +/-80F/27C. The curtains are selectively open in my office, and the heat pump is already at work.

Slept in, because by the time I went to bed last night, I was exhausted. Chapter-by-Chapter is a Very Useful Tool, but it does take a toll on the brain.

Breakfast was oatmeal and tea. Pork chop and baked beans on-deck for lunch.

We here in Central Maine tremble before an Extreme Heat Watch, said Extreme Heat projected for Tuesday, when heat indexes are expected to approach 105F/40C. The weatherbeans are fair dancing in their excitement. They do so love their Wild Weather.

In news unrelated to anything at all, Perry Wink and his bunny sidekick are visiting Vancouver, where it’s presently drizzling and 52F/11C. Perry is planning to attend the Teddy Bear Picnic in St. Andrews Park this afternoon. If you see him, say hi.

I’m currently reading two books. The first is a fascinating research paper recommended by Alex Picard — Everyone Here Spoke Sign Language, by Nora Ellen Groce, a study of hereditary deafness on Martha’s Vineyard. The second book is The Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer, which I’m having read to me by Eleanor Yates.

In viewing news, I watched the first episode of the second season of Ncuti Gatwa’s Dr. Who a couple days ago. P’rhaps I’ll make space to watch the second this weekend. I must say that Mr. Davies spares no one his scorn in the matter of villains. I’m still trying to settle in my own mind if that’s a bug or a feature.

I spent a little bit of time staring at Cap’n Fish’s website yesterday, but the moving parts defeated me, which means I’ll be shelving that for the present, and will therefore have a treat to look forward to in future.

And that? Is all I’ve got. Today is also a writing day, so I’d better get to it.

What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title courtesy of e e cummings, “Summer Silence.”

Doctor on Deck

What went before ONE: All righty, then!

In my small, as yet uninvaded by Marines corner of the US, where it is cloudy, cool, and damp, I did go see the chiropractor, which was good, because back pain had continued escalating, until I was forced to sacrifice one of my precious Meloxicams to stem the pain and it was exactly like throwing a snowball at Hell.

I’m not gonna lie: getting smacked with a hammer in precisely the places I hurt most wasn’t fun. OTOH, the relief was damn’ near immediate. I came home, threw down some muscle relaxants, in order to get ahead of the cycle, got an ice pack and laid down in the bed, where I was immediately joined by Rook in what may be his first solo nursing gig. When I woke up, he was still curled against my knee, and I had Firefly and Tali bracketing my hips, so obviously this was considered a Serious Event by the care staff.

I have another appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow afternoon, but the absence of pain is a benediction, as ever.

I’m out for the rest of the day, obviously, but hope to be functional tomorrow.

Everybody stay safe.

Oh! Someone had asked about my neighbor: I’ve seen him round and about, though not to talk to — so I guess he’s Clearing Stuff Out.

‘night

What went before TWO: The names! The names! Obviously, I knew about the Sasanoa, but Upper Hells Gate and Hockomock have somehow eluded me for 35 years…

Cruise the upper Sasanoa River through Upper Hells Gate into serene Hockomock and Montsweag Bays. These tidal channels connect the Sasanoa River, Back River, and Sheepscot Rivers and once served as the primary rout for transportation between coastal communities like Bath, Wiscasset, and Boothbay. Their brackish waters host abundant fish and wildlife and serve as beautiful backdrops for photography opportunities. — Maine Maritime Museum Tours

Tuesday. Mizzling and cool. Trash and recycling are at the curb. It would be nice if it didn’t rain on one Trash Day so I could finish getting the Winter Boxes out of the garage before it’s Winter again.

Breakfast was oatmeal with inclusions. Lunch may well be the leftover pretend chicken parm.

I am sneezing. Happily my back does not hurt this morning, so I may do so with impunity.

Follow up with chiropractor at 3 today; sewing at 5 (or, really, whenever I get there); grocery shopping after. In-between, one’s duty to the cats, and the work of the house. I could, yanno, throw in a load of laundry, if I’m feeling particularly ambitious.

Two of the cruises offered from the Maine Maritime Museum hit the six lighthouses along the Kennebec River, and, Readers, I Am Tempted, because there’s no other way I’m going to be able to view these lights. All I need to do is figure out if I can cope with two to three hours trapped with strangers and their kids on a tour boat, and what I’m going to do about not burning to a crisp.

Last night, the cats and I finished up Season 1 of Ncuti Gatwa’s Dr. Who, and, having now seen the Whole Arc, I applaud Mr. Davies’ storytelling (yes, yes, I know; y’all are experts on Everything Who; allow me my discoveries in their own time). Firefly Did. Not. Approve. of Suketh. She threw herself onto the couch and aggressively snuggled against my side, purring, and occasionally looking up at me. I had to assure her several times that Ruby would Fix It, with help from the Man Person.

Ah. And today marks 300 days of traveling with Perry Wink in Finch. A melancholy celebration in its way, but, hey — any excuse for a party.

The younger staff members are playing tag in the back hall; Trooper is asleep on the co-pilot’s chair.

Have a picture of the rose bush:

Rites of Spring

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

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

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

Hope everyone has had an enjoyable Friday.

Stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

#

Saturday. Cloudy and cooler.

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

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

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

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

2 I Produce a Spring and show it to them.

3 They wriggle.

4 I throw the spring.

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

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

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

6b The game ends when the spring is lost.

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

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

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

Speed bonny boat, like a bird on the wing

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

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

Everybody stay safe.

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

* * *

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

#

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you know where your cats are?

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

when the world is puddle-wonderful

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How’s everybody doing today?

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

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.

I wanna find one face that ain’t lookin’ through me

What went before ONE: I put together the new space heater, despite my fingers are still not working properly from yesterday’s abuses, and why don’t they just make screws bigger? But! Magnets are our friends. The assembled device was set to warming the bathroom, which it did with great efficiency and practically no noise. The elder space heater ROARED, so that will be a nice change, too, though I’ll have to be Extra Vigilant to be sure I’ve turned it off.

Am now taking a break for some fig newtons and Trooper lap time before taking the old heater down to the Goblin Room and wrapping it in plastic.

What went before TWO: For those following along at home, the chapbook I’ve been talking about now and again will include: “Neutral Ground,” written in September 2021 as a short story, which we/I then held because … Because. — a chapter pulled from Ribbon Dance, written in July 2023, and “Core Values,” written in February 2025, and posted to Splinter Universe. The stories amount to 27,485 words, and there will definitely need to be Author Commentary, so call it 30,000ish words.

No date yet — much needs to be done, aside from writing the commentary, but I said I’d keep people Informed.

What went before THREE: Rook, the “baby,” weighs 12 lbs, 6 oz.
Trooper, the patriarch, weighs 13 lbs 1 oz.
Firefly weighs 11 lbs, 3 oz.
Tali has declined the opportunity to be weighed at this time.

Since this time last month, Trooper and Firefly have lost minor ounces; Rook has gained minor ounces.

So, that’s actually good news.

What went before THREE-ANNA-HALF: Tali weighs 11 lbs 6 ounces.

What went before FOUR: 662 new words today, bringing the WIP to 33,487. I have signed up for Disney+, figuring Doctor Who will keep me busy until it’s time to pack, and then manifest at BaltiCon.

Still need to do my ASL review, so I guess that’s what I’ll be doing after I lay out Happy Hour.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Here’s a picture of Firefly staying safe, in case you need a role model:

What went before FIVE: I’m to give a speech at Balticon, accepting the Heinlein Award. It’s a short speech, and the current plan is to put it in the back of the chapbook discussed earlier today.

Thursday. Sunny, blue, and still.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with ham, tomato, onion, the last spoonful of potato salad, and parmesean cheese. Which was quite a lot, actually, so light lunch will be in order. I still have a little bit of chicken salad, so that may be the solution, right there.  Tali stopped by as I was finishing up to have her ears massaged:

 

 

 

Things went slightly sideways last night, where I hit a wall — and bounced. I went to bed early, and slept, but I’m still kind of groggy and half-functional, so am planning a half-collapsed day. The comfy chair, a pad of paper, and a pen are looking good, so that’s where you’ll find me until it’s time to go to class.

How’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Mr. Bruce Springsteen, “Badlands”

Here’s the official cat census:

 

It’s still Rock ‘n Roll to me

What went before:  That? Was a very tight bit of storytelling, disguised as an aimless ramble.

And I might have not gone to see it if I had realized it was her farewell to Lou Reed.

Tuesday. Damp and warm. Trash and recycling have been escorted to the curb.

Breakfast was half a raisin-bran muffin and cottage cheese (I didn’t get cottage cheese yesterday, since Shaw’s does not carry my Preferred Sort). Lunch — eh.

Last night’s movie (Laurie Anderson’s “Heart of a Dog”) was Interesting; a little long for me, though I would be hard-put to cut anything. Well, maybe a few of the disorienting visual episodes, though, from what I know of Anderson’s music, they’re probably meticulously timed for maximum…something. Also, I was tired when I got there, so the “too long” could easily have been me, not the film.

The Colby professor, Dr. Katie Altizer (boy, they’re making PhDs young these days), Applied Music Instructor and Collaborative Pianist, gave a talk based on the good parts of a much longer paper she’d written on the film. Her husband and baby were there to support her. Theater One wasn’t packed, but nor was it empty.

Apparently these Cinema in Conversation episodes happen every now and then. I missed the first one, but there are three (?) more upcoming, so I suppose I should check the website.

Today, here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory, I’ll be — anybody? — yes? Yes, you, in the yellow headband. Ah. Indeed, one’s duty to the cats, but also? Yes, person with the green hair? Yes, thank you. Writing. I made a Huge Breakthrough, and suddenly the Ideas are Flowing. So, yanno, yay.

I — what was that? What was the Huge Breakthrough? Oh. I know what the book’s about. Which I often don’t, so that’s kind of interesting, if you happen to be interested in what the inside of my head looks like.

So, a boringish day hereabouts.

Who’s having excitement today? Tell us all about it.

#

Ooh. Just heard an interesting story from Alan Hunter, hosting Classic Rewind, about Billy Joel, who apparently said in an interview (somewhere, somewhen, Mr. Hunter’s recollection being unclear on the point — and understanding that I’m paraphrasing the paraphrase), that you start out making music, and you’re young and you have to strive, and you get a little single-minded about it, and you don’t notice the passage of time, because you caught up in what you do; you don’t notice that it’s not only event that passes. I (Billy Joel) look at my pictures from Madison Square Garden, and I think, “That’s not right. I got old.”

And this is exactly what it feels like, thank you Messrs Hunter and Joel. Steve and I used to talk about the artists who had the privilege of living the “Life of the Mind,” never realizing that we, too, were living such a life.

Steve never fully understood, I think, that he was no longer 30, and he couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t lift That Thing anymore — what was wrong with him? — and I’m surely no older than 40, though a tired 40…

Some time back, I saw someone else talking about suddenly realizing that he was 70, but only felt, say, 40, and that, suddenly, some of the things his parents had done when they were old, made sense to him.

Random thoughts — assemble!

Or, perhaps, random cats, assemble.  Much more restful.  Yesterday afternoon’s cat census:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Billy Joel, “Still Rock ‘n Roll to Me“

Snow Date

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

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

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

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

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

What’s your Plan for Monday?

In Which the Writer is NOT Writing

What Went Before:  Last night, as part of the curriculum of Not Writing, I watched a show on PBS Passport called SAFE HARBORS, which is a tour of 65 Maine lighthouses (I note here that this is not all of the lighthouses in Maine, and also that I’ve been to/seen a surprising number of them).  I urge everyone to find this show and watch it (I’m told it’s soon to come to YouTube).  It’s not a documentary, there’s no narration, only music and these incredible, incredible views of the lighthouses.

Moving on to!

Friday. Chilly, lots of puffy white clouds moving fast across a mostly blue sky.

Tea brewing. Breakfast will be cottage cheese, corn flat (I’ve forgotten what they’re called — Thomas’ Toaster something. As a substitute for corn bread, it’s not. Next time, I’ll make my own. — and grapes. Lunch — I guess fish and — something.

I see there are as many as half-a-dozen folks admitting to having read Diviner’s Bow — thank you and I hope you had fun. Do remember the spoiler space, and to drop a review at Goodreads or other venue of your choice.

Regarding the spoiler space, I am going to vary. It has been the authors’ policy not to be involved in those discussions, merely releasing messages after a scan for politeness &c. This time, I have a Question Regarding Craft that you, the readers of this particular work, can help me with. So, I’ll be posing my question in the spoiler discussion, and I thank all participants in advance for your patience and your assistance.

Today is another No-I-Am-NOT-Writing Day. This is kind of hardcore, but I’ve got to get my brain back, and the best thing I know to do is Do Other Things. If the weather were more clement, I’d go for a drive, but I think that’s off the table. *looks out window at the wind shaking the crab apple tree* Yeah. Off the table.

What I will be doing is taking down the wreath, which has started to lose needles, and changing out the 2024 moon phase calendar for the 2025. Also, there’s rumors of the June royalties in the bank, so I’ll be doing some cash juggling.

I read an interesting article last night about the Five of Cups, which is typically rendered as a Card of Loss. In traditional decks, the image is of a figure and five cups, three of which are overturned; two remaining upright. The figure is focused on the overturned cups — thus the loss. However, the two unregarded cups, still full, sitting behind the figure, hint that all, perhaps, is *not* lost.

It will surprise no one here to learn that my favorite tarot deck is not a traditional deck, but the Halloween Tarot, which I find both joyful and accessible. In this deck, the suits are Pumpkins (Pentacles), Ghosts (Cups), Bats (Swords), and Imps (Wands).

The Five of Ghosts, then: a central figure, gazing downward, clearly disconcerted or sad; there is a bucket on the ground directly behind him. Around the figure are five ghosts, hovering in a sky with five stars. The ghosts are also disconcerted, following the central figure’s downward gaze. The black cat (which appears in all of the cards in this deck) is in the foreground, looking at the ghosts.

I was at first somewhat alarmed. Playful my deck might be, but it stringently adheres to the Language of the Tarot, and this card varied and not in a good way. It seemed to withhold the promise of those two, unspilled, cups, not only going against the Language, but the spirit of the deck itself.

So, I sat with the card for a while, and it came to me, finally, that one of the ghosts was not focused on the disaster, whatever it was. It was focused on the figure, and its arms were outstretched, as if it would offer comfort. And then, of course, there’s the bucket, sitting quietly — empty or full, but not spilled. The Language remains pure, and the card remains true to itself and the deck.

So, that.

What’s surprised you recently?

Wake-up cat census: