Tag: glasswork

Won’t you come out and play?

What went before ONE: Wrote 1170-ish new words, sketching in that scene. Needs work.

Spent an hour…maybe two hours with my glass project. Needs work.

Back in my office for right now. I may or may not go back to the The! Studio! today, though even if I don’t I need to remember to turn off the heaters and the humidifier.

The cats were before me when I got to Steve’s Office this morning, Rookie giving me a Look that pretty clearly stated that there would be A Note In My File for coming in late. So far as I know, they’re still in Steve’s Office. If I wanna go sit in the basement, it’s nothing to do with them.

Project to date:


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What went before TWO: Sat down in the comfy chair in my office to look out over the Long Back Yard and have a snack, and this happened:

What went before THREE: OK. As reported earlier, did some writing, did some glasswork. I also made the paper edition of Civilized Behavior, but it will not be released until November 6. I also sent the ebook files to Baen, with a request that they publish on November 13, which is the date that the ebook edition will publish at All The Other Vendors.

Everybody confused now?

Yeah, me, too.

The cats all came out to my office to sit with me and I was wranglin’ files. Pretty soon, they’ll start reminding me that it will Soon! Be! Happy! Hour, but I think I have time to get the clean dishes out of the dishwasher and put away before that Auspicious Hour strikes.

How’d everybody do today?
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Sunday. Chilly, cloudy — no, wait! Here’s the sun trying to break through.

Slept a little late this morning, but that’s OK, given the exciting week I’ve got lined up.

Rice and asparagus stir fry for breakfast. Because I Could. Leftovers for lunch.

The two bill-like pieces of mail that came in yesterday, were not in fact bills, so yay.

Yesterday also saw the delivery of another light tube/string. Once I get that up, I’ll have three rooms outfitted with LED strings — the living room, Steve’s Office, and my office. This is perhaps excessive. OTOH, the Dark is Rising.

Today’s plan is writing, glassworking, one’s duty to the cats, reading. Yeah, slacking off again. I’m thinking that I’m way overwriting this book, but — onward to (an) end, then rest, then Sumo Editing. The Writing Life.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Who else is slacking off today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Siouxsie and the Banshees, “Dear Prudence.”  (Yes, yes, written by Paul McCartney, thank you.)

Where women glow and men plunder

PR first:  Open for Business!

What went before ONE: And I’ve just figured out the best part of having a studio with a door — I can leave everything as it is, where it is, so next time I go down to do some work, I can just — work.

I’m feeling somewhat better after an hour of working at my own pace and figuring stuff out by myself. Not that I’ve made Strides — no, I have made at least one stride. I successfully cut a strip of “sand” out of that awful glass and it broke along the scores! Even the blasted point. So, yay. Progress.

I also cut four or five pieces out of clear colored glass, which behaved like rational silicone dioxide, broke where it was scored and didn’t give me no lip. I do, however, foresee days at the grinder in my future…

Work so far:

What went before TWO: So, today I pulled a scene, completely rewrote it, and! The WIP wordcount is exactly the same as it was before I did all that. So! 98,770. ish.

Spent an hour in My! Studio! playing with glass.

It was such a nice day that I think I’ll try to do it again tomorrow.

Next week is looking a little complex — book club on Monday (Oh. I need to get a copy of our next book, The Women), driving to and from the hospital in Rockport with a nerve conduction test in-between on Tuesday, and! needlework (I really don’t want to miss two weeks in a row); glasswork on Thursday; and Aztec Two Step on Saturday. So, that will be a good week to use the cut-up time for the Sekrit Project (remember that?) and putting together the paper edition of Civilized Behavior (ebook at all the bookstores for preorder!), and finishing my glass homework, too.

Yeah, I’ve got a little too much on my plate, still, but I’m working through it. By the end of November, I should be past the worst of it.

Question for my glassworking folks! Must you have a grinder to go forward in the hobby?

The cats wish me to know that it is Happy Hour and technically, they’re not wrong. And yanno? I could use a glass of wine my own self.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Saturday. Sunny and going to be slightly warmer than the last couple days.

Breakfast was an enormous scramble — two eggs, leftover veggies, half a said-to-be apple fritter which was, frankly, disappointing. The Caterteria has been replenished. The cats are in various sunspots throughout the house. I will very shortly be going back to Steve’s Office to write the scene the Boys Belowstairs so kindly provided upon waking.

The plan for the day is, yes, writing, and glassworking; one’s duty to the cats, and a walk. That’s enough for one day.

I’m remembering a story about Steve’s grandmother, who traveled by bus and by subway, but had never, and by design, learned how to drive. Her reasoning being: “But what if I was driving and I thought of a poem? I wouldn’t be able to stop and write it down!”

I know a bunch of you are going/have gone to No Kings assemblies in your little pieces of America. Strength to your sign-carrying arms.

And thank you.

Today’s blog post title comes from Men at Work, “Down Under,” which actually got me to sing yesterday.  Well done, Men at Work.

Celebrating cats and poetry

Business first:  Today is Feral Cat Day and also Book Day for two charity anthologies to benefit Feral Cats.  Lots of good reading here, and!  You can donate to a worthy cause.  Read all about it
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I did sit with the WIP a bit this afternoon after lunch; wrote +/-560 new words, bringing total wordage to somewhere around 97,600.

Today’s deliveries included Calling: Selected Poems by Dorothea Neale.

Some of you may have heard Steve speak of his grandmother, the poet — and this would be her. She was the founder and director of the New York Poetry Forum for 30 years; taught drama and music, and wrote, directed, and produced the Children’s Play Shop, which aired on Saturday mornings on WBAL TV in Baltimore, for years. And she was also a prolific poet.

Steve was immensely proud of her, and often cited her example and support as the reason he became a writer.

After she died, Steve and his cousin Leith ter Meulen had talked about ways to make sure their grandmother’s work and legacy did not fade away, and Leith went on to see Calling published, featuring nearly 200 poems by Dorothea Neale.

Here’s a picture of Steve with his grandmother. The stamp on the back of the photo says MAR 78.

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Sigh. Files under Life With Cats.

So my right wrist has been painful and I’ve been wearing a wrist brace. I leave the braces, as a pair on the dining room table when I’m not wearing them, and did so last night. This morning, one is missing — the right one is missing. Of course. And if I have any hope of being able to cut glass tonight, it lies in having my right wrist braced.

I’ve looked in all the Cat Stash Places, and … nope. So I’ll be going to CVS after breakfast, which is only a couple blocks away, but not what I had planned to be doing this morning.
First cup of tea is brewed, and I’m thinking toast and cream cheese, with a side of grapes for breakfast.

How’s Thursday treating you?
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Back from CVS and heating milk for cocoa. What a terrible day outside. Grey and damp and cold. Ick.

The Good News is that I got two braces — a stretchy one to sleep in, which may help Current Conditions, and a working brace — and the “wellness wallet” paid for both, so — small victories. And somebody finally got a Clue and put a soft layer between skin and itchy velcro fasteners — upgrade!

In Cute Cat News, This is like the third time I’ve come home and seen Tali in the front window, Watching, and her eyes widen when she sees the car pull in. Apparently, she does miss me.

Speaking of Watching…a policeman?! Who could have been so careless? Or was it A Plan?

So! Off to drink my cocoa and then belatedly get to work.

Of Studios and Offices

Tuesday. Cloudy and damp. Trash and recycling at the curb. Heaters engaged in The Studio, and! I can move the dehumidifier from the big, heated part of the basement into The Studio — all I have to do is push it with the handtruck. So that will be my project after breakfast.

I think I’ll also take my boombox and a handful of CDs down, too. Might as well be comfortable.

Also on the after-breakfast list is finishing with the stained glass pattern.

Today my electronics are revolting. I put my phone to charge last night, but apparently didn’t make a solid connection, because it was down to 5% this morning. And the little timer cube, which I continue to adore, needed its batteries recharged.

I? need to make a phone call, and then rustle up some breakfast.

How’s Tuesday looking for you?
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So I’ve moved the dehumidifier from the heated and dry side of the basement into The Studio, where it immediately Leapt Into Action.

I’m still going to need another dehumidifier, come spring rains, for the other side of the basement, but at least I don’t have another immediate expense, and can look about me for someplace that will deliver, by which I mean, take the damn’ thing down the cellar steps.

The heaters in the meantime have been doing their job, and the thermometer/humidity gauge, which this morning read at 61F/61% is now reading 64F/55%. Progress.

In a couple minutes, I’ll be taking some tea and some water and going downstairs to My Studio. Yes, I am gong to milk this for all it’s worth. I’ve never had a studio before. Office, yes. I think every house I’ve ever written has included at least one office. Steve and I used to bemuse real estate agents by going through a house, and saying things like — “OK, this could be your office, and I’ll take little room at the top of the stairs,” or, damningly, “No, this won’t do; there’s only one office.”

And off I go.

The Studio and other nonsense

So that’s 1,387 “new” words, that aren’t actually “new” but a scene that I’d pulled for Not Fitting In. What I did was rewrite it slightly and now? It fits. WIP now weighs in at 97,060. More or less.

I’m stopping for the moment, because — gotta think now. And also I need to find the Winter Runner, which — the old woman who lives with me put it somewhere, I’m sure, logical and safe. And damned if I can find it. None of the cats remember where it went, either. (SPOILER: Found it!)

Well. While I’m up, I should do my duty to those same cats and warm up the last of the soup (with cornbread!) for lunch.
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Went out just before it started to rain. Bought a cheap non-skid rug for the studio* (oh, how swanky is that? “THE STUDIO.” buffs nails on shirt), then stopped at Shaw’s for milk, butter, bread, wine, cheese. You know — the basics.

I should prolly get a dehumidifier for The Studio, too, but I’m running out of the ready for this project — ref “the basics” above.

The guys in the basement inform me that they’re still thinking, and also out of beer, so I’m guessing that’s my cue to take myself and my book over to the couch until it’s time to serve up Happy Hour.

Hope everybody had a goodish-to-good day.

Take care; I’ll check in tomorrow.
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*Yes, I did hear all the arguments against a rug. Thank you.

I met her in a club down in old Soho

Oh, dear, dearie me…

For those who have not read it, Be Warned. We are told by a Concerned Reader that Diviner’s Bow is the second Liaden book that was “written for LBGYQ” instead of “staying true to the storyline and characters.”

Well. That’s me told.

In other news — and what I actually stopped by to say — between cutting out teensy pieces of paper, followed by driving for sevenish hours, followed by chores, I have managed to scrod my hands, which means I need to change the shape of the next few days, to wit!

Today and Monday I shall write; Tuesday, I shall finish cutting out my glass pattern and taping said teensy pieces to the appropriate pieces of glass (which means I’ll be missing needlework, but there are only so many hours in the day — and what’s with that exactly?). Wednesday, I have a haircut scheduled, and also some writing to do; Thursday evening is glasswork, I may need to hit the grocery during the day; Sarah comes by on Friday morning.

Also, I need to get a tattoo across my forehead that says, YOU ARE NOT 40.

So! Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts. Lunch will be a ham sandwich, or something else including ham, because leftovers, and!

Time to go to work.

What’s your upcoming week looking like?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Kinks, “Lola” because — obviously.  Released in 1970.

Here, have a picture of Tali:

A gypsy wind is blowing warm tonight

Saturday. Sunny and warmer than I had expected.

Many chores have been accomplished, including doing the preliminary set up for my glass working space. I had a moment of despair when I realized that none of the many outlets in the Foosball Room, err, worked. Then I remembered my fusebox lessons from Steve Symonds, crossed the basement, flipped a switch, and hey, presto! Power, we haz it.

I have two oil radiators, and also the old electric heater that I replaced not because it didn’t work, but because it was old. So, it, too may join me and I’m thinking that room will be toasty as heck, even in winter.

The library cart (sorry, Steve) will be put into use to hold my glass and tools where I can see everything, and Archie’s stool (I bought a nasty old wooden stool at a flea market back in nineteen-seventy-ought two, I guess, all over splotches of paint, and — oh it was a mess. But for fifty cents, who could say no. Took it home, did the sanding and the priming and painted it Chinese Red. When I brought Archie in to run the place, that was his favorite seat.) is just the right height to park my fundament (why does spellcheck not know fundament?) on while I glare at the pattern, which I have no doubt I will be doing a lot of.

There was a big old warped piece of wood leaning against the wall, which I have put down, so I’ll have something besides a concrete floor between me and the permafrost, and I should probably get a cheap rug, for another layer. Right not, All The Things are on top of the board, because I’m hoping to flatten out the bow.

Now! I need to rustle lunch, and then, oh, go out to TJMaxx.

Yes, yes, I’m supposed to be getting rid of stuff so it will be easier for those who have to clean up after me, and instead, I’m getting new stuff.

How’s Saturday treating you?

Oh, hey, my work-area-in-process:

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Hmmph. Did another exploratory round of Stuff I Already Have. Identified a glass keeper, known to those of us who had administrative/secretarial jobs as a desk-top file organizer, which will do fine. It is metal, but easy enough to soften each section by taping in a manila folder or two.

Steve used to have these … big foam tiles that he used in the SRM office (another basement location). They interlocked, so you could make your space as big as you needed, and they were soft, which was easier on your back and legs. I went looking for them, but no luck. And — I have a really hard time remembering where I last saw what. It could be they never even made the move to this house. So now I’m trying to remember where he got them. Maybe Staples? Back when Staples actually had things in their store instead of offering to order it online for you?

mooches off to Staples online

SPOILER: As suggested by several Facebook friends, Home Depot had them, aka “single sided gym tile”

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And that’s enough fun for one day.

I went to TJ Maxx and unexpectedly came upon a wooden plate holder, which will handily hold the glass I’m working with now. I can foresee a time when I’ll need to bring the other holder into play but for now, I’ve put it aside.

I put together some “gym” tiles, and put them directly on the floor in front of my work bench. All The Things are still piled on top of the warped board, but I’m not having to walk on the warped board, so that’s a win.

For a change, we are not under a freeze warning tonight, so that’s a change. And now that I’ve had my fun, I need to finish up washing cat bowls, by which time, it will be Happy Hour.

How time does fly.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.

The work space as now configured:

Tonight’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Robert Seger, who is pretty damned sure of himself, so there is that:  “You’ll Accomp’ny Me“

Come and take a walk with your sister, the Moon

The moon is gorgeous tonight, big and yellow.

So, now I have glass and the means to cut it, though I am strictly forbidden from doing so until next class. What I do have to do is finish cutting out my pattern and affixing the pieces to the appropriate pieces of glass so that I can begin cutting my glass next class.

Excuse me: “Seymour Glass. Do you See More Glass?” Thank you, J.D. Salinger. Honest to Ghod how long do I have to pay for that English project?

So! I’m feeling, actually, better about the glassworking after this evening’s class. Maybe because I have a better feel for how the moving parts fit together. Possibly because the instructor did not faint dead away when she saw my pattern, but said, “Oh, that’s nice, did you get that out of one of my books?” and then helped me modify that big swodge of “ocean” that some of y’all were so worried about.

I see that I’m going to have to be moving the portable radiators into The Foosball Room (so called because there was a Foosball table in that room when we looked at the house, and for a time it was a question whether or not we would be adopting), aka The Cold Room aka The Workshop, so I can cut glass (permission will apparently be given to cut glass at home eventually) without my supervisors getting paws on, not to mention glass in their fur.

For tonight, my glass and assorted Stuff is in the car. I’ll need to move it down to The Foosball Room before I head for the ocean tomorrow.

Fans of Firefly will wish to know that she is having the Zoomies. Apparently, she DID SO TELL the kids that I would be home and that I would feed them, first thing I got inside, and as this has come to pass, her stock has gone up.

That’s all I’ve got to report. The rest of my evening will be reading today’s chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October, and getting something to eat.

Everybody stay safe. Writer’s Day Off Tomorrow. I’ll check in as I can.

Oh, wait! My bats came:

Tonight’s blog post title brought to you by U2, “She Moves In Mysterious Ways“

She walks looks and drives like an ace now

What went before ONE:  Oh. Here’s something amusing.

Someone had suggested yesterday that I go to Aldi for grapes.

I typed “Aldi near me” into the search bar, and I am offered!

Newington NH (250 miles RT)
Dover NH (250 miles RT)
And! My favorite: Port Orange, FL (3,000 miles RT)

So, that’s why I’m not going to Aldi for grapes.
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What went before TWO:  Two thousand eight hundred and eighty-ish new words written, bringing the WIP entire into the vicinity of 94,050.

“Frogging” is a knitting term that I believe Brenda Clough introduced into my vocabulary. It comes from “rip it, rip it” which is what one does when one makes a mistake.

Tomorrow will not be a writing day. I have some layout to complete and a couple phone calls to make before I hit the road to Glass Express, where the class is to meet our instructor “directly after work.” I wonder what that means. Class officially starts at 6. I guess if I arrive at 5, the time won’t be wasted. I mean, really, I’m going to be in a glass shop. It’s not like there won’t be stuff to look at.

Checking the weather, I see that we are now under a Freeze Watch tonight. Looks like I’d better go out and cover up the rose bush.

Aaand, back. Rook saw me heading for the front door and threw himself at my knees, yelling. It is almost Happy Hour, but jeez, kid.

In addition to the freeze warning, the weatherbeans tell me that it will be sunny and 60ishF/16ishC on Friday. Rain starting Sunday evening and that’s most of next week, right there. So! Friday Will Be a Writer’s Day Off.

I do believe that’s all the news &c.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Thursday, sunny and cold. Ish.

I did turn on the oil heat to warm us up at floor level, while the heat pumps do their thing overhead.

I did cover the rosebush last night, but something disagreed with my design decision, be it wind or be it beast, and the blanket was off the rose this morning.

Today! I really hope to get the November echapbook up for preorder. Fingers crossed. I also have some phone calls to make. Including a call to make an appointment to have my hair cut. I’m still liking it longer, except for the part where my bangs fall in my eyes — see haircut, above.

I find a note from Adult Ed in my mail this morning informing me that our instructor expects to meet us at Glass Express at 5 pm, so that’s one question answered.

I also see in my inbox that! my bats will arrive today. That’s awesome. The last best guess for delivery that I saw was October 15 or something. Early delivery FTW.

Yes, I bought bats. I like bats.

What else? Oh. Just got a “Hello, this is a cold call for Steve Miller. Is he –” Sigh. I really miss being able to slam down a receiver.

I had the house phone forwarding to my cell, so that the cellular robot could stop that stuff before it even got recorded. It was doing a good job, too. Then, a couple days ago, the house phone started ringing again — one call from the hospital and four calls for Steve. I need to look up again how to forward the landline.

So! That’s my day pretty well laid out.

Who’s doing something that’s fun?

Today’s blog post title is from The Beach Boys, “Fun, fun, fun” — which is also a formative song.  First, there’s the Interesting Truth of:
Well the girls can’t stand her
‘Cause she walks, looks, and drives like an ace now

And also — granting that I’m probably the only one who ever put this spin on it, welcome to my brain — that Our Narrator is a hero because he’s going to let her drive his car.  Because, I mean, yeah, what else would he want to do?

Rosebush, uncovered:

For those who are still with me, here’s the link to this morning’s cat census.

Magic Glass Writing

What went before:

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What went before: Senior supervisor checking placement of juniors

 

 

 

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Wrote +/-900 words and needed a break to let the guys in the basement get in their beer order.

So, here’s my stained glass pattern, all color-coded and waiting for me to go to the glass store (on Thursday with the rest of my class) and buy some damn’ glass, Woman! I probably have too many colors, and it seems clear that the pattern, at least, wants Serious Art Glass for the sea and the starfish. I’ll see what’s on sale at the glass shop, pattern. No promises.

Who’s doin’ what today?

While I’m up and around…

Last night I went to the much-anticipated magic show — Magic Rocks, which is pronounced “Magic! Rocks!” and NOT “Magic rocks.” The reason for the sign prohibiting rabbits that I posted from the pre-show last night is because the illusionist, Leon Etienne, is IRL allergic to rabbits. So — no rabbits on stage or in the audience.

It was, yes, loud, because said illusionist is a rock ‘n roll enthusiast (thus “Magic! Rocks!), and there were bright lights and no lights at all at strategic moments.

The Lovely Assistants were, lovely, skilled pantomimists, and honestly, all-around good sports. The illusionist himself was personable, funny, and skilled.

There was a kind of camp feel to the show, aided and abetted by the Lovely Assistants, who seemed at times to be saying, “Yes, we all know this trick, right?” And yes, we all did know the trick, but seeing a woman cut in half live! on stage! is its own kind of magic.

I had, as I believe I said last evening, a really good time.

The tricks started big and showy, got small and intimate, then finished up big and showy.

The volunteers from the audience were uniformly good sports, and the expression on their faces when the magic happened multiplied the wonder in the room.

When the illusionists came down into the audience, I was close enough to hear him say to his first volunteer, “Ma’am, I’ve been looking at you all evening from up on stage, and it’s really been bothering me so I hope you won’t mind, but you’ve got a hair right here –” And I also heard her gasp “OH!” when he pulled the toy rabbit out of her ear.

I also want to call out the woman who went up on stage and surrendered her ring to the illusionist, who subsequently made it disappear — and then revealed that it had not transferred to the jewelry bag that had been set up to receive it. She was visibly tense, and got tenser, and tenser, as box after box after box was unlocked and opened, and her ring was still missing.

When it was finally found, her whole body shouted relief, her smile was to die for, and that one trick was a master class for any storyteller in the art of raising the stakes.

The kid volunteers were also terrific; I’m pretty sure I didn’t have that much sangfroid when I was seven.

Anyhow! If you have a chance to see Magic Rocks — do that.