health stuff – Sharon Lee, Writer

Just waitin’ on a friend

What went before: Sewing was fun; more people continue to find the group. The conversation turned at one point to bats, which was lively and enjoyable.

I hear that I should expect the Martin’s Point Nurse Visit tomorrow between 8 and 10 am, so I guess I’d better get my pill bottles in one place; not that I have that many pills, but I do take vitamins. Will also remember to ask about a referral to an audiologist. I don’t know that the traveling nurse can do that, but — maybeso.

The cats have been fed, to Trooper’s vast satisfaction, and I have poured myself a glass of wine. After I gather up my pills, I’ll be having the evening meal, and, yes, another early night, being as I will have to be up early tomorrow, JIC.

Everybody stay safe.

G’night.

Wednesday. Sunny and already warm.

Waiting on the Visiting Nurse.

Breakfast was half a blueberry muffin with a side of cottage cheese. Drinking my first cup of tea.

First Official Act of the Day was filing a complaint against the spoofed profile. FB reminds me that it will only remove things that are against its community standards, and it appears that, actually, pretending to be someone else is not against community standards.

Which actually tells us everything we need to know about FB, and yet here we all still are.

My sister-in-law is defending her doctoral thesis this afternoon, so if you can spare a good vibe or two on Scholar Net, that would be awesome.

Aside the Visiting Nurse — who just called and says he’ll be here right around 8 o’clock — I need to take bottles to the redemption center, and stop at Agway for rose spray.

And, in view of the Imminent Arrival of the Visiting Nurse, signing off for now.

Later that same morning: So, that was a reasonable and informative visit. I remain Disgustingly Healthy. Speaking of double-edged blades.

I think I talked the Visiting Nurse into taking his wife to Corning to make glass. And I may have a lead on a doctor who is accepting “transfer patients.” Apparently that’s the magic phrase, right there — not “new.”

The lawn guy’s here to mow, and his equipment, naturally enough, is in the driveway, so I’ll be taking the bottles out after he’s done his thing. Which, given that it’s only 9 o’clock — mornings go on forever when you get up at 6:30 — will be about the time the redemption center opens.

Rook was Not At All Certain that he had cleared Vets in the House (double entendre alert: the nurse is, as so many medical folks are up here, ex-military), and hid in Steve’s room. The other three cats stayed in my office: Firefly and Trooper at the desk, and Tali behind a curtain.

Second cup of tea in hand.

The larger part of the day will be working on the WIP. I hope to get the correx entered today, so I can do the Grand Rearranging of Scenes tomorrow, and be set up to write new words, assuming I haven’t forgotten how, by the weekend.

I did a Coon Cat Weigh-In the other day. Everybody is staying stable — Firefly almost 12 lbs; Rook almost 13; Tali at 11 — except Trooper, who lost 2 lbs. He’s now on the mid-morning Elder Snack schedule. Good thoughts for Trooper, please.

How’s everybody doing today?

Rookie’s box arrived yesterday afternoon, and was put to use immediately I cleared out that pesky rope of lights:

Today’s blog post courtesy of the Rolling Stones, “Just Waitin’ on a Friend.”

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:

The Luck in Action

What went before ONE: Well, that was more excitement than I wanted from lunch.

First, I spilled almost an entire box of elbow macaroni over the kitchen floor — I always try to catch things. Often I do catch them. Even more often, the result is worse than if I had just let whatever it is fall.

Rook came rushing to the scene of the catastrophe, looked at the mess, looked up me (“Mom. What the Hell?”), then assisted in clean-up by finding the macaronis that had taken cover under the cabinets, and smacking at least one to its Forever Home under the stove.

Eventually, I got back to the cooking part of the process, and it was lunch, and I even have leftovers for lunch-in-future.

Rook’s been practicing taking selfies:

What went before TWO: Well. A Compleat Change of Plan.

I did get some writing done, but after lunch, I noticed that my back hurt, and my hips hurt, and my knees hurt, and — you get the picture, I’m sure. So! I took a couple aspirin (I’m holding on to the High Test until I’m sure I have a doctor who can prescribe more, OR until aspirin doesn’t do the trick), and then I — wait for it — took a nap.

Woke up somewhat less achy, approached the keyboard, and remembered that today’s shopping trip to the freezer had Revealed An Error.

I was out of blueberry muffins.

Clearly, that situation could not stand, and a batch of blueberry muffins is finishing up baking as I type this.

Next, I need to go back down to the basement to see if I still have blueberries. Which tangentially reminds me that I ought to be making a grocery list. (EDITED TO ADD: I have blueberries.)

So! Minor amounts of writing completed today.

Here, have a snippet: “No, Bechimo had accepted Theo Waitley as captain, and there was nothing that could induce one of Korval, be she kin or be she clan, to relinquish a ship that was in her hand. She had been adamantine, had Captain Waitley, and admitted no error – which had only made him more determined to reft the ship from her.”

Oh. The muffins are out:

Monday. Glary, damp and coolish. Windows are open in my office.

Breakfast was . . . different from planned, due to the fact that the cottage cheese appeared to have Mystery Inclusions. So! instead of half a blueberry muffin with a side of cottage cheese, I had half a blueberry muffin with cream cheese. Lunch is likely be a sweet potato, since I’m not feeling All That ambitious.

I hereby report an Instance of the Lee-Miller Sloppy Luck. I had cut two roses off the new bush two days ago, and put them in a bud vase on the dining room table, where they remained, undisturbed and cheery, until!

. . .I’m guessing last night. Maybe early this morning. A Person Unknown — *cough* Tali *cough* — knocked the bud vase over onto a pile consisting of a SanDisk mp3 player attached to a pair of headphones, which was sitting on the case (closed) of another pair of headphones, which was next to a large book.

Reader, most of the water was still in the vase. The mp3 player was slightly damp, but is working. Both sets of headphones are untouched, as is the book. The tablecloth was a little damp, but it needed to be changed, anyway.

I did not sleep well last night, and my back is still bothering me. It occurs to me that the chiropractor was not attached to the hospital that left, so perhaps a phone call to see if I still have an In there is in order. (EDITED TO ADD: I still have an In, and better yet? An appointment for this afternoon.)

Otherwise, today is a writing day. No, really. I mean it.

Looking forward to the rest of the week, tomorrow evening is sewing, after which I’ll go to the grocery. Wednesday, I am to reside in a State of Anticipation of the arrival of the Home Visit Nurse, sometime between 8am and noon. Thursday morning Ashley will arrive, and Friday morning, I get a haircut.

I should sometime soon see what’s to do in Bath, so I can have some fun and find out where my doctor’s new practice is. Maybe there’s a Reny’s.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s happening with you?

Pics from yesterday:

Now you tell me that I’m crazy; it’s nothin’ I didn’t know

What went before One: Yanno? I’m finished for the day. No, I don’t have a localer doctor. None of the doctors that are less than 50 miles away are taking new patients, which isn’t surprising, really. I have my name on a “Hub” list, which I’m going to have to count as . . . a winnish sort of outcome.

Waiting for the plumber and will be going to Reny’s and to Hannaford after that window closes.

What went before Two: I keep forgetting that if you want something today, you don’t go to a store for it.

So the plumber came by and fixed the toilet situation. I gotta get me one of those air-harpoons. I went to Staples, because I wanted an SD card that cost less than the Earth today, then to Home Despot, which also did not have what I wanted. I will now be buying these items online.

I have newly washed clothes to put away and socks to dry, Coon Cat Happy Hour to serve up, and a glass of wine to find. Maybe two glasses of wine. Three? It could happen.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Sunny and gonna be warm. Trash and recycling at the curb. Windows OPEN in my office.

Breakfast was rice crackers with cream cheese, strawberries on the side, putting the kettle on for my second cup of tea.

Laundry’s almost done. I need to clear the dishwasher and change out at least one cat fountain, do my Greater Duty to the cats, and also do some banking/accounting. I should go to sewing circle this evening so I don’t get out of the habit, and! going will force me to choose new project from those I have on-hoard. Oh, and I promised the guy at Houle’s I’d stop by the showroom today.

Busy, busy.

One of the … remarkable — because I’m about to remark upon it — aspects of coming home is how pleased I am to have My Own Stuff around me. And while I was Right to take a “studio” at Corning, and Corel dishes are perfectly reasonable, it was almost an active pleasure this morning to reach into the cabinet and pull out a proper purple-glazed dessert plate for my crackers, and the right little bowl for the strawberries.

So, that’s what’s going on around here — I still have way too much Stuff to do, but I can kind of see a glimmer, looking forward, which might be what I like to call Normalcy.

Today’s blog post title courtesy of Fleetwood Mac, “I don’t wanna know”

Three cats in my office; one in the dining room, adjacent to my office, sitting in my chair. Of course.

Sunshine!

What went before, short form: So, yesterday morning I discovered a new and disturbing discoloration on the back of my calf, about the size of my palm. I spent some time thinking about that, my inclination being to Just Ignore It. Had it be Steve, now, I would have nagged him to go to the clinic, or at least call his doctor, and finally I decided that — in all fairness and in the spirit of While One Stands Both Live — I should do the same for me, so! to the clinic I went.

Examination, measurements, conversation, and ultrasound later — nobody knows what caused the broken blood vessels, but the discoloration is not a sign of a DVT — that’s a blood clot — and that’s really all that interests me. Oh, and the disturbed area may be treated with warm compresses, elevation, and Tylenol.

It was not a very productive day, otherwise. I rewarded myself with ice cream and going to the local Reny’s to buy socks. Because buying socks is always in order.

Thursday. Sunny! Going to be warm(ish), though not so warm as it eventually got to be, yesterday. The windows are open. For now.

Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries (a fat free food! it says on the package) and walnuts. Lunch with be a sweet potato.

Consumers for Affordable Health Care called me back as I was at breakfast and they too! gave me the number for Legal Aid for the Elderly, which is on my list to call as soon as I have my second cup of tea to fortify me. I can’t wait to hear how they can’t help me, either.

I have more things to do than I have time to accomplish, but I’ll see what I can make happen.

Window wash/gutter cleaning scheduled for noon. ASL at 5:30. Cat bowls have been refreshed.

Rookie came up into my lap after I finished my oatmeal — we have this thing where he visits me after breakfast (and after lunch, if his schedule allow), and this morning, Tali came by, saw the lap was occupied and jumped up anyway. She snuffled Rook’s ears; he snuffled her cheek. She stood there on my knees, a little uncertain, but unwilling to get down — so Rook got down and strolled off to have a bite of cat food. Tali turned around a couple times, bumped my chin with her head, tried to eat the blood pressure cuff while it was doing its thing, then bumped me again and jumped down.

So — progress.

What’s progressing in your vicinity?

Oh — Proof of sunshine, and! How many cats are in this picture?

I want to fly like an eagle, to the sea

Friday. Rainy and cool.

Breakfast is rice crackers, cream cheese, applesauce. Waiting for my tea to brew.

I need some things at the grocery. The jury is still out whether I’ll get them in town or in Belfast. There’s a Reny’s in Belfast, which may tip the scales.

So, yesterday was very strange. At one point, I was running a (minor) fever, and I just felt — unwell. I cancelled out of ASL class, which was a bummer, but might as well not give whatever it was — assuming it was giftable — to my classmates.

This morning I feel — OK. No fever. Not so exhausted I can barely drag my tail downstairs to perform one’s duty to the cats.

So, that’s all good.

I have a less-drafty schedule from BaltiCon Programming (The final schedule may happen next week. Maybe.). There is room on Saturday morning for a FOL breakfast at — eh? 8? 8:30? 9? We will not be having a Stuffed Animal Tea, unless I can work something out with either the consuite or the Green Room, so, yanno, watch the skies.

In other news, the WIP now weighs in at 34,667 words, which looks like Holy Smoke! That woman wrote yesterday!, but is mostly cut ‘n pasting/minor reworking from Salvage Right.

This is a matter of +/-3400 words, and will likely be less as soon as I get smart enough to figure out how to further streamline the needed action while providing Necessary Context. In a +\-100,000 word novel, this is Very Small Potatoes. Nonetheless, I anticipate hearing from the folks who howled their heads off, asserting that half of Mouse and Dragon was “nothing but” the ending of Scout’s Progress, and they were thereby Cheated. I suspect that this unhappy anticipation is what has kept me from moving forward on this section, even though I’ve known from the start of the project that it’s going to have to go down this way. I do know that most people will Get It, but I hate getting yelled at in email. Or at all, really.

And! The votes are in! I’ll be foraging in town today.

What else? I’m still kind of reading the book club book, with a chaser of The Teller of Small Fortunes. It’s been slow going because I’ve been so damned tired. I may really try to knock off early this evening and, oh, watch Dr. Who.

Oh, and I need to find someone to paint my garage. Actually, I think I probably need somebody to rebuild my garage, but I’m not sure how that might be made to happen. Well. Research. That’ll be fun.

That appears to be the contents of my head, and my tea’s almost gone.

What’s going on with you, this fine Friday?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Steve Miller — the other Steve Miller — who notably wrote this song in 1976, when I’m told that music was Pure and nobody wrote about politics or social action in their books. “Fly Like An Eagle“

You can make or break; you can win or lose

Notice: Today’s blog post is picture-heavy. Some days are like that, Mrs. Miller.

What went before ONE: So, here in Maine, where it’s snowing, the US Government has pulled the funds that pay for school lunches in Maine, because there are trans students in school sports, and! it has just pulled correctional funding because there’s a trans prisoner in a women’s prison.

This, according to the US Government’s Speaker to Animals in the service of “protecting women.”

What fun.

What went before TWO: This of course makes it very easy to type…

What went before THREE: Snowing harder. Hands still hurt.

1260 new words today, and that’s the end of the new scene.

Trooper is yelling his head off, which is going to get tiresome RSN, and won’t make Happy Hour happen faster. It’s just — clocks, man. SO disobliging.

I was able to schedule a mammogram at Thayer in September, and therefore cancelled the one at Sebasticook. There were a couple of confusing points, such as — Where do you want the report sent. Which, given my PCP has gone or will shortly go, poof! was a puzzler. I finally recalled to mind my surgeon at the cancer center, so that’s who will receive the report. The other one was — Have your records sent over to us. Oh, yeah, sure. How? Oh, just call their file room, they do this all the time. Uh-huh.

I ended up calling the women’s health department, explaining what I was told and they were able to send the electronic files on while I was on the phone with them.

I also signed a service agreement, which will take care of my lawn mowing and the upcoming winter’s snow removal.

So, yanno — progress made on several fronts. Go, me.

Speaking of progress — I did wash the sheets, but now I have to fold them. So, I guess I’ll do that, and let Trooper yell out here all by his onesie.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Wednesday. Sunny and cold. About 2.5 inches of snow on the front step; trees coated with white. Ref pic below.

The Weatherbeans are calling for sun and 40F/4C today and warmer tomorrow. Already, the snow’s falling off the trees. Friday should be quite pleasant. Saturday and Sunday, you ask? Mixed snow and rain. What else?

Given Conditions, today will be more writing, lucky characters; also ASL homework. I should also Scrutinize my travel arrangements, and nail down an appointment in Corning to make some glass.

Breakfast was cream cheese on rice crackers, with a side of grapes; second mug of tea to hand. Lunch will be soup and salad, because I’m lazy.

On the Fashionista Front, the pearl studs worked out well yesterday, so I may put in the sapphire studs today. They’ll look nice with my green-and-black-check flannel shirt.

It appears that the morning wrassle-and-scream session is now a Tradition for Rook and Tali. They have at it mightily for, oh, six minutes? Then Rook rolls over and shows his belly, Tali licks his head and they go off to their morning nap spots. Cats, man. They passeth understanding.

Oh, another thing to do today. I’ll be attending AlbaCon remotely, if I can figure out how to tell Zambia that.

. . . and that’s really all I’ve got. As a spectator sport, writing is even more boring than chess. No, I misspeak. Chess isn’t boring at all, to an informed onlooker. So I’ve been told. Golf, then. Writing is more boring than golf. There’s a tshirt.

What are you doing today that’s boring?

Here, have a picture of Trooper the Wise. And Grumpy. Can’t forget Grumpy.

Today’s blog title brought to you courtesy of Mr. Glenn Fry, “The Heat is On.”

Physician, have you nothing to ease the pain of living?

What went before: So, Northern Light Hospital in Waterville is trying to refer all its patients to Maine General. I know this because the office of a Maine General Spine Surgeon called me to tell me that I had been referred by someone I’d never heard of for neck pain. In the course of sorting that out, I actually spoke with someone at my PCP’s office, and she did confirm that, not only the hospital, but ALL the clinics, and specialty offices attached to the hospital (with the exception of the continuing care facility on the hospital’s campus) are closing down dead on May 27. This means, among other things that I will be driving 120 miles, round trip, to see a PCP, if one can be found at Eastern Maine Medical. Inland will also happily fix me up with Reddington Fairview, in Skowhegan, which is chronically overworked, or, oh MDI Hospital, which is very nice, but — it’s on Mount Desert Island.

The FAQ on the We’re Abandoning You Page (it’s not called that; it’s called The Transition Page), chirpily informs us that making sure any on-going prescriptions are up-to-date is very important, because the hospital realizes that it may “take some time” for people to find a new PCP.

The hospital also acknowledges that one of the several reasons it’s shutting down is because of staff shortages, so one wonders where the hell they think the people its abandoning are going to find doctors, since a bunch of them are BEING FIRED, and probably moving out of state.

What a freaking mess.

Well.

I guess I’d better make some lunch, hey?

Some time later: Got some reading of the WIP done. Will do more tomorrow while Ashley is here, and I’ve pulled back to Steve’s office to give her room to wield her equipment.

One of the Afternoon Thoughts was that Steve’s cardiologist is going down with the hospital, and that I was glad Steve didn’t have to stress through that. Of course, he’s also my cardiologist, but that seems much less of a *particular* blow. I’ll miss my PCP more. That Thought led to the subsequent thoughts, that I’m glad Steve is missing, oh, yanno, the dissolution of Democracy, and the general demise of the world. I kinda wish I could miss it, too, but — I told the characters I’d do this book for them.

In other news, Trooper is telling me that it’s Coon Cat Happy Hour and he’s pretty nearly right, so I’d better go see if I have enough plates and cocktail napkins, and little paper umbrellas.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Thursday. It’s…raining, and the temps are just above freezing. Supposed high temps for the day in the upper 40sF.

I had taken all the cat toys up from the living room floor and piled them up on top of the ball racer, and put the pile on the sofa so Ashley’s vacuum has a free run. Rook has cleared all the toys off of the ball racer and is playing with it. So, there, Mom! Oh, and now the girls are interested. Photomentary at eleven.

Again! I thank everyone who has left a review for Diviner’s Bow. Keep ’em coming! Also? You guys read hella fast.

Breakfast was sausage gravy on whole wheat/multigrain toast. Kettle’s on for my second mug of tea. Lunch will be — eh. I’ll check the freezer and see if I have any soup. If today’s weather has a Theme, soup is what it’s good for.

Ashley texted that she might be a little late, which, given the weather, is prudent. I’m here until 5:00 anyhoot.

I? Am never going to learn how to count in ASL. Or maybe I mean to say that I’ll never learn how to count fast in ASL. Which is OK. I mean, I don’t particularly count fast in English. I count slightly faster in Spanish, because it became music for me somewhere along the line, and more about matching cadences than counting. Also, it’s my contention that you don’t need to count in sign. If somebody asks you how many kids you have, and you have three, you pat three invisible heads. If somebody asks how many cats you have, you make the sign for “cat” until you’re done.

As soon as I dispatch this letter, I’ll be pulling my work back to Steve’s office, where I’ve activated the heat pump, so it ought to be nice and toasty.

How’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog title is brought to you by The Star Fox by Poul Anderson. I attribute the quote to Cynbe ru Taren, but it’s been at least 60 years since I’ve read The Star Fox, so I could be wrong. Great quote, though.

The Tuesday Report

What went before: No new words written, but notes put down. Straightened up the mess I made downstairs, did the dishes, performed my duty to the cats, staged the trash for tomorrow’s grand parade to the curb, did some ASL homework.

That’s gonna have to be enough for the day.

I realized as I was Spacing Around that tomorrow is a Double Whammy — not only the second New Book Release Day without Steve, but also the anniversary of the day we moved in together, in 1978.

Well.

I’m done for the day — a little early, which unfairly does not mean that Coon Cat Happy Hour is early.

Everybody stay safe. Remember to check your ebook reader tomorrow morning to make sure that Diviner’s Bow has downloaded properly and is ready to read.

Tuesday. Book Day; Diviner’s Bow hardcover, ebook, and audiobook officially hit the shelves.

Sunny, windy, and thereby chilly here in Central Maine. Trash and recycling were picked up while I was out running errands. There’s news of a cat litter delivery, but I’m not sure if that isn’t for tomorrow.

Went to the post office and picked up a package; a kind friend sent me some Lundberg black rice. Went to the UPS store and flang the heart monitor into the hands of the intake person. She asked me if I wanted a receipt, but I told her I didn’t care what happened to it. Tried to stop at the new local bookstore, but was informed that she doesn’t open til Thursday. Spent a pleasant few minutes chatting with the owner of the used bookstore in the basement.

Went to CVS and bought makeup, which was kind of an eye-opener. Mind you, I’ve never worn much makeup, but the stuff I had is at least three years old, so I figured it was time for new. I’ve been watching Makeup for Olds on Youtube, now and again, and in a startling number of cases, the addition of makeup makes Our Model look … older. And then I remembered that I started wearing makeup because I had a baby-face and needed to look old enough to actually be an administrative aide to the dean of a graduate school.

I will in a few minutes be getting myself the last of the leftovers for lunch, and then seeing what kind of trouble I want to get into.

A REMINDER for those who are reading and/or have read Diviner’s Bow: Please leave a review — stars are nice, too, but a review is awesome.

ALSO! If you want to talk about the book with other fans, there is a Spoiler Lounge all set up with chairs, and snacks, and drinks, norbears, and — oh! Cake.

Spoiler Space for Diviner’s Bow

And now? It’s lunchtime.

And the snow comes tumbling from the sky

What Went Before: So, I’m kinda tired, which I attribute to having been woken up and terrified before the day properly began. The heart monitor is all wrapped up with a note detailing its slide into insanity and ready to be dropped off at the UPS store. I’ve written a note to my cardiologist on the portal, explaining what happened. I’ve done some ASL homework, and some writing, by which I mean thinking and also writing 750-ish new words, bringing the total words thus far to +/-21,260.

I’m done for the day. I may monkey a bit with Steve’s Chromebook, but it will be from the corner of the sofa, and under my comfy blanket.

Sunday. Cloudy and cold, but not precipitating. We are now under a Severe Weather Alert, but the probable accumulation of snow has been scaled back to 2 inches. There’s still ice in the forecast, and ice must never be discounted, but the accumulations there, too, have been reduced.

Woke to find two turkeys making an inspection of The Long Back Yard. It’s been years since I’ve seen turkeys in the yard. . . . and I’ve been living here long enough now that I can say years . . .

Breakfast was three little leftover Chinese sweet potato piergoies, with sour cream, and an orange. Finishing up my first mug of tea. Lunch will be leftover drunken noodles (yes, again).

My plans for the day are to perform my duty to the cats, study ASL, and write new words. Also on the list was getting the kitchen trash bagged up and into the garage before the weather started, but that’s been done.

So WAZE. You tell it where you want to go and it decides on the best way and that’s it? There’s no negotiation, other than the really broad AVOID TOLL ROADS and such like? Because while I will happily take 295 out of Maine, I am allergic to taking 95 around Boston, and would rather head west on smaller roads to gain my overnight in Cooperstown. I know this can be done because I have done it, but ship and pilot had a navigator then, and I do not have the route in my head. There was a reason Steve was our navigator. For instance, I know I can get out of Maine via Routes 2 and 4 and pay my respects to Mount Washington, as I did on my trip to Vermont, but I’m not at all certain of my routes beyond.

At this rate I may have to buy a road atlas.

The generator has just come on for its weekly systems check, and my mug is empty.

Whatcha all doin’ today?

Update: It’s begun snowing

Today’s blog title brought to you by Gaelic Storm, “I’ll tell me ma”

Sunday morning census below: