Wednesday doin’s

Wednesday. Hot and sunny.

Much has happened already.

The lawn guy was here at the crack o’breakfast. Rookie the Cookie has been to see his vet for his annual exam, and a three-year rabies shot. I have, with only a moderate expenditure of swear words, managed to install the two “safety hook and eyes” I purchased yesterday at the hardware store. Nails…

Nails are unexpectedly difficult. I shall need to take advice.

After Installation, I had a cup of tea and a cookie and just now as I was cleaning up the tea station, I dropped and broke the tiny ceramic saucer that acted as a used tea bag holder, because of course I did. Argh.

I still need to make some tuna salad, so it can be part of the luncheon salad, and I need to tidy up a bit, because the home health nurse is arriving “this afternoon” to make sure that I still know how to draw a clock face.

Rookie is pronounced by his vet to be perfectly gorgeous and in good health. He has apparently decided to hold at 13.2 pounds for the moment, though we all agree that his paws — Labrador paws, says the vet — might still predict a growth spurt. He is only two years old, and Maine coons aren’t officially Grown Up until they’re five.

I went to PT yesterday about my balance. Not that I’m falling, but I’m catching myself catching myself, if that makes any kind of sense. The evaluation was … fascinating. Indeed, I do have an imbalance. When I close my eyes with my feet together and try to Just. Stand. There? I sway to the right. Also, my hips and ankles could stand to be stronger. I have exercises, of course, and a promise that I will be taught to fall. This will be a great boon, because, historically, my reactions have been too fast (which was also proven yesterday), and my objective is always to not fall. Which usually results in more damage than if I had just let gravity have its way with me.

I am, so I’m told, in really good shape for an Old. My walk is brisk and firm, my overall balance, as long as I don’t have to close my eyes, is really good, and, absent the need for work in hips and ankles, reasonably strong. I’m not sure what to make of all this excitement about my general “good” shape. Steve and I used to walk for hours, miles and miles; and I walked All Over Baltimore City. I’m nowhere near in that state of lean meanness. OTOH, I suppose one must account 26 against 73.

I’m expecting I won’t be doing much, if any writing today, what with the uncertainty regarding the arrival of the nurse.

So! I’d better be about making some tuna salad.

What’s for lunch at your place?
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And! The visiting nurse arrived while I was just finishing the tuna, so that’s done, and now I can move on to lunch and maybe getting with planning my course.

Catching up Sunday

Sunday.

So I figured I was hale enough to do the shopping, which I was. I bought two different kinds of protein shake (so I can perform a taste-test), along with other needed supplies, along with Sanpelligrino Lime, and so-called ginger ale. Didn’t ginger ale used to Actually Have ginger in it, rather than “ginger flavoring”?

Though I was fit enough to get the shopping done, I am now, I suppose predictably, exhausted. Had some pudding after I got everything put away, and listened to a couple chapters of Salvage Right, which — writing a character with PTSD isn’t easy, but I think we did a credible job. Also? I do so love Seignur Veeoni.

In a couple, I’ll start the oven to heat lunch, and then I think I’ll concentrate on bookkeeping and mundane desk work, and correspondence.

The cats think I should take a nap, and they may be right, but, if that’s found to be the case, it will be after lunch, not instead of lunch.

How’s everybody doing?

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I see I forgot to update yesterday.  Herewith, the cold news from Saturday:

A break for PT homework and to throw a load of towels into the washer.

This morning, I have been in the comfy chair in my office, Sitting With The Big Ideas. I have Notes. I have an inclination toward More Notes, so I’ll head back to the comfy chair after I finish this note and collect a cookie as my reward for doing my homework.

I’m working with notes that go back to 2022, at least, trying to identify recurring themes. I wish to honor Steve’s vision for what were his character and story, far more than it was mine. Which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

I had early cat assistance, but just before I broke for homework, Tali and Rook decided that I was well in hand, and took themselves off to Steve’s office to recharge. I know they’re recharging because they’re curled up in the plentiful sunspots.

On the health front, I have this morning decided not to take naproxen, which is really not something you want to be taking all the time, even given anti-nausea meds. So far, I’m maintaining at a whisker over ignorable levels, so that’s Good. Naproxen does have a long half-life, so I’m guessing any increased discomfort will start showing up this evening.

Interestingly, for values thereof, while I can concentrate on the WIP, and am doing good, sharp work there, for anything else, it’s an extremely fuzzy day in the neighborhood. I hate feeling stupid, OTOH, pay copy is being written and/or plotted, so — onward.

Looking at next week — The 1:45 showing of Hadestown on Monday, needlework, and on Friday, which would have been Steve’s 76th birthday, a morning nature cruise on the Messalonskee, if it doesn’t rain. Maybe, if I can keep to current levels, I’ll actually be able to get my hair cut by a professional some day next week, and before I take a pair of kitchen shears to it.

How’s Saturday treating you?

Saturday’s editor:

Prince Siegfried and the Black Swan

Friday.

Watched the 2010 Swan Lake last night (aka “the Swan Lake for our times”), after I decided that the production I was offered–The Velveteen Rabbit– was taking too much of my limited store of patience. My state of mind might have come over to Swan Lake, which was … not riveting, but certainly watchable, and I did watch it. I did not at all like the man who danced Prince Siegfried, and found the Black Swan much more compelling than the milquetoast–ahem–White Swan. Still, it took my mind off my problems for a while, so that was a thing.

Had a bad night, despite the best effort of cats, and only this morning realized that I have an answer to the problem of wanting to put heat on my back during the night. I have two heated throws, one of which now joins the bed furnishings.

Got grumpy on an email list, did PT homework, ate breakfast.

Wrote +/-660 new words, bringing the WIP entire to 30,145ish words. I’m still subscribing to the Write What You Know then fill in the scenes that are left mode of writing, and this morning I did leave a space for a chapter that has to be there, but the guys in the cellar haven’t gotten me the deets yet, and went on to write a scene I didn’t know I needed, until I looked at what my fingers were typing.

The cats were Very Pleased that I decided to join them at work, and they are still in Steve’s office, taking in the air from the sliders. I’m increasingly glad that I had the French windows replaced with the Andersen sliders. Yes, they were heart-stoppingly expensive, but the entire household is made glad by their presence.

I need to do my duty to the cats, then find something to eat. After, I intend to find someplace comfortable to sit-or-lie-down and try to work out some of the WIP’s future bits. I’m really enjoying the daily writing momentum. I’d like to preserve it, if I can, and give the whole Descent into the Slough of Despond a miss this time.

It’s a good plan.

How’s your Friday shaping up?

First time

So, I’ve been seeing clips forever from the Royal Ballet Company’s production of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” and really enjoyed every one.  It occurred to me yesterday that there must be a Whole Ballet streaming Out There Somewhere, so I went looking, finally finding it on Marquee, which I was able to subscribe to through Prime, and get seven! free days.  Since “Alice” was leaving the service in 11 days, this seemed like a message from Euterpe, and I signed up.

I watched it last night, with Tali and Rook’s interested support.

Rookie’s Interested Support:

It was?  Amazing.  The very first ballet I’d ever seen.  Since I still have six days, I’m inspired to watch more.

And that?  Brings us to!

Wednesday

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail
And pour the waters of the Nile
From every golden scale.

How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spread his claws
As he welcomes little fishes in
Through gently smiling jaws.
–Lewis Carroll

Someone yesterday had said they’d never read Alice, and my wonder is, how did you manage to avoid it? And what did you make of the metaphors that, in my childhood at least were Everywhere.

I don’t think it was assigned school reading, though we were surely tasked with memorizing poems from the text. I particularly remember a poster of Alice talking with the Caterpillar, Your Viewpoint is looking over the Caterpillar’s shoulder, as he sits tall on his mushroom, hookah at his side, looking down at the girl who has grabbed onto the edges of the mushroom, trying to pull herself up — with a certain amount of success, as her shoes are slightly off the ground. I’m not sure what that poster was telling us to do, though I remember another, of the Cheshire Cat’s head and the word IMAGINE! beneath.

For my Ballet Conscious people — a question. How broad is the vernacular in the Royal Ballet’s “Alice?” I could follow it easily, but I know the story. How lost would I be, do you think, if I attempted a ballet wherein I didn‘t know the story?

. . .though, while I have this seven days of grace, I may well view “Swan Lake,” of which I’ve only seen bits. And, again, I know the story, and the music.

All that said — Frequent auditors of this space will recall that I swore off superhero movies, but last night I broke my word. That woman danced for two hours with only two intervals, which were certainly not long enough to count as “rest.” Eeep.

And now to find something to eat for breakfast.
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And in the realm of We Live in a Random Universe, the judge approving the Anthropic judgement is named Araceli Martinez-Olquin.

Back when I met Steve, he and his friend Drew had just started a business called Araceli Kari. As far as I ever knew, these were coined words meant to be easy to remember and also alien-seeming without being difficult to say. (Araceli Kari’s primary mission was to produce a newspaper — The Starswarm News — which reported from the Alterverse (fiction. Mostly.) and also featured New Science (fact). Steve roped me in to help him write classified ads from said Alterverse, which is where we found out that we could, and willingly did, collaborate.

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I wrote about 550 words, and may get back to it later.

Broke for PT homework and changing the water filter in the fridge, which has only been begging attention from the householder for the last two weeks.

Am trying to build a modified pillow fort on the couch, which may make it … less painful to watch television, and possibly even to write. Or at least be able to read. I really want to finish reading Horngard.

I do need to find something to eat, which is being annoyingly difficult to come to terms with.

I am going to buy a ticket to “Hadestown” — Monday coming. All that remains is to decide which show. If I have to stand at the back, it won’t be the first time.

And I think that’s the news — a little sparse, but some days are like that.

Hope everybody’s having a pleasant Wednesday.

Tuesday morning

I wrote new words. Eleven hundred new words, in fact, bringing the WIP entire to 27,888. So that’s a thing.

Yesterday’s visit to the walk-in clinic was both lowering and interesting. Interesting: The walk-in clinic Does Not Prescribe pain relief medication. They do prescribe muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.

The PA sent me to the hospital for an x-ray of my back, just to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently broken something since the last time my back was x-rayed. As I had not broken anything, I was given a prescription for muscle relaxants and anti-nausea medication.

Since one is strongly discouraged from taking T3 and muscle relaxants, I have broken into the (still in date) naproxen left over from last year (because now I have anti-nausea medication, in case naproxen turns ugly), and took the first dose this morning. The muscle relaxants are to be taken at bedtime, and I perhaps have seen a slight lessening of the pain — well. I was able to write new words today, and do all of the PT homework, instead of just the Good Parts, so, yes, muscle relaxants had an effect.

I have also unearthed a crazy little hand massager (a big plastic marble in a holder) that I’ve been running firmly over the hurtin’ bits, and also still with the lidocaine roll-on (yes, I know about lidocaine patches. Have you ever tried to put a goopy, floppy, patch on your own back? Sticks to itself. Sticks to your hands. Sticks to your clothes. To your back? Not so much. And that’s without mentioning the necessity to twist around with an aching, spasming back, trying to get the fool thing in place.)

The clinic’s diagnosis (this is the “lowering” part of the program) is bone spurs, aka “small anterior osteophytes” and “mild mid thoracic spine spondylosis,” which is age-related, degenerative arthritis, and therefore nothing to be done, save what I’ve been doing, and wait for the flare to ease up or I manage to increase my ability to ignore pain.

(Aortic atherosclerosis was also noted, as an aside. This is not New news, and aside from being separate from the reason I was at the clinic, I’m thinking it wasn’t mentioned verbally because the plaque level hasn’t reached the Magic Number yet.)

Onward.

Ellen Richmond is yesterday’s hero. She brought me to the clinic, the hospital, CVS, and picked up the prescriptions. Later in the day, Beth and Steve Symonds stopped by to replenish the cookie supply, which was much appreciated.

I now need to figure out something that looks like lunch, and whether or not I’m going to take a nap, after.

Rookie is clinging like a clingy coon kitten, which–he really is too big to curl up between my cheek and my shoulder, but he’s doing it anyway.

So, there’s my news.

What’s your news?

Short catch-up and apology

Abject apologies for having gone dark.

Short form is that I can’t totally get ahead of the back situation, though I even took the Unprecedented Step of asking the PCP for strong drugs.  Which work, to a point.  But not, alas, to the point necessary for peace, harmony, and getting any work done.

Tomorrow morning, a kind friend will be taking me to the walk-in clinic (which is absurd on the face of it, the walk-in clinic being about two miles from my house, but — strong drugs.  And back spasms.), where it is my very great hope that they will be able to provide something that (1) works to stop the more-or-less constant muscle spasms, and (2) doesn’t have the side effect of making me sick.  Though (2) is becoming less desirable as (1) takes on more necessity.

Aside the Constant Complaint Thread that’s been running on Facebook, below is probably the only notable thing I’ve said in three days:

Last night I finished listening to Accepting the Lance, by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller, narrated by Eileen Stevens. May I just say that, while I vividly remember writing the scene where the Agent of Change is taunting Val Con — during this, my first reading of the novel as a novel, I was particularly struck by what the Agent chose to taunt him with.
“Vulnerable…so very vulnerable.” “We have seen it — cut one and the other bleeds. Kill one. Both die.”
In fact, he’s being taunted for having connections. For being human.
Wow.
Epic storytelling, past me-and-us. And truthly truth, as well.

Three goods inna row

Tuesday. Raining half-heartedly. ‘beans are still calling for “near record high” heat, with indexes “near 100,” with bonus Violent Thunderstorms with damaging winds and hail, and perhaps a surprise appearance of a tornado, for the overnight.

Trash and recycling are at the curb.

Slow getting started today, despite a long sleep fully supervised by Coon Cats. Both ladies piled in immediately I had pulled the covers up, and Firefly tucked up against my stomach, which she never does, purring to shake the bed, while Tali made her very solid presence felt at my back. I woke up a couple times and they were still in place. Firefly, apparently noticing the change in my breathing, started purring again in a blatant effort to make me go back to sleep.

It worked.

Rookie seems to have spent a peaceful nightshift in his basket on the edge of Steve’s desk.

Rookie is not drooling this morning–his fur is dry and his eye is bright–and I have called his physician to report this.

I have a note from my physician, agreeing that the arrangements I have made with lisinopril dosing times and lifestyle adjustments have, indeed, produced a more seemly sustained level of BP readings, and has given his permission to stay the course. Which means I get to stick with 10mg rather than leaping into a double dose. So, that’s good.

Once I have dispatched this note to the internets, I will be doing the dishes and performing my duty to the cats.

Unless the fog in my head melts, I foresee a day of chores before heading out to crafting. Which means the house will be straight, and I can concentrate on writing Wed-Thurs-Fri.

That’s also good.

Back pain is at the Ignorable Level–three goods in a row. Not really very interested in eating food, despite the effort I made to have tasty things in-house, so that’s — worrisome, but not particularly novel.

The Perambulating Package is still being “assessed” in Augusta, and nobody’s committing to a delivery date.

And all that said — Onward.

What’s the weather where you are?

And! A picture of Rookie from last evening, post Happy Hour

She wants a car with a cupholder armrest

Saturday. Sunny and not going to be quite so hot.

Had a good sleep and a fine dream just before waking. Steve and I had been given the happy news that we were being given a permanent residence and needed to move out of our temporary apartment. We were in the process of this when something I don’t quite understand happened to divert our attention to what was perhaps a police action. However, by the time we had been called to assist in that, we had moved our stuff- we seemed to have a lot less stuff in the new situation- and located our cat, who was on the other side of the parking lot. Steve got the cat inside just as the call for our attention came in.

It was a puzzling dream but not particularly unhappy or fraught.

I woke up soon after and my back didn’t hurt, but that’s changed now. This is getting old.

I’ve sat longer in the window than I meant but I had Firefly’s attention for some time, and since she had quite a lot to say, I figured not to interrupt her.

I’m planning on scrambled eggs for breakfast and then going to write. I thought I was going to Oxford today for the gem show but I think that’s off the table.

For those following the Perambulations of the Package, as of this morning it had made its way from the Rochester NY sorting station to the Northwest Rochester sorting station (which seems to be the wrong direction, but perhaps it’s a matter of “North” trumping “West”), and the United States Post Office disavows any knowledge of when it may arrive… anywhere.

Firefly has cleared my lap, Tali has visited briefly, and also moved on.

My first cup of Russian caravan tea is gone. Sounds to me like I ought to go find breakfast.

How’s everybody doing today? See less
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So, that’s 1,130ish new words written, bringing the WIP to +/-25,525, finally breaking 25,000 words, something I’d thought I’d see much earlier in the week.

I need to do my duty to the cats and then, I believe I shall, oh. Eat something. And then sit in the window and read my book.
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I have progress to report!

I ate lunch, for definitions of lunch. I unloaded the dishwasher and put the dishes away! I reloaded the dishwasher from the sink full of dirty dishes! And! I did the dishes that can’t go into the dishwasher.

Now, of course I’m exhausted, but that’s what my book is for.

When I sat down in the comfy chair in Steve’s office, Rookie immediately threw himself into my lap so I guess I’m here for awhile.

Today’s blog post title is from Cake: “Short skirt, long jacket“.  Yes, again.

Diary of a challenging few days

I have, apparently, been having too much fun, and my back decided to take revenge.

Deets below, but first — have some day lilies:

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Wednesday:
And today’s snippet to live by, from Diviner’s Bow: A contract negotiation between a master trader and a trader. The master trader has just asked if the trader has reviewed the proposed contract and found it sufficient. She replies that she wishes to change one thing.

“You astound me,” [the master trader murmured]. “Expose, I pray, the contract’s deficiency.”

“I found no deficiency. Merely, I wish to amend the initial period to three Standards, rather than six.”

“Six Standards is our usual term,” Shan said, sternly.

Padi opened her eyes wide.

“Is it, indeed?” she asked wonderingly.

Shan laughed. “I taught you that,” he said.
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Thursday. Sunny and going to be hot.

Yesterday afternoon fell apart in a big way because my back started hurting, and it all went downhill from there.

On top of the pain, or because of the pain, I have had a very dicey stomach and today seems to be more of the same. Sitting in the window right now with Kelly on my lap and a cup of well honeyed ginger tea. Pretty soon I’m going to have to figure out something to eat.

Hope everybody is feeling better than I am. I’ll check in as can.
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Friday:
Business first: “Kelly” cited in yesterday’s posting to the internets, is actually Tali. Speech to text is not always very smart.

Well. Friday. Sunny, though the weather beans insist that it’s cloudy.

Woke up this morning pain-free! I immediately started making plans more fool I, though I did manage to eat food for breakfast before my back started in again. So win, I guess, and I really do need to eat, before I get to the point where I just don’t bother, a known danger which needs to be avoided at all costs.

To be fair, my back still doesn’t hurt as much right now as it did yesterday, even yesterday evening when I convinced myself to eat an apple tart with ice cream, on the theory that even dessert is better than no food at all.

I had hoped that I would be able to write today and I’m still trying to figure out how to make that happen. On the one hand, it doesn’t do anyone any good to just sit at the desk and stare, so the first assessment should be: Is my brain clear enough to allow me to write? And I guess the first test for that is sitting in the office chair and seeing if it hurts so much that I can’t think.

What fun.

I should report that Tali is very much in favor of the sitting/ lying around doing nothing schedule. She’s been my more or less constant companion in this. The other two have given up in fustration, and I really can’t blame them for that.

I did yesterday finish listening to Neogenesis, and I must report a notable lack of “AI technobabble.” Also? Boy, does a lot happen in that book! It’s a trilogy all by itself.

I’ll be taking a break from Liaden books for the next while to read Hornguard by Elizabeth Moon, which I’m looking forward to.

And now that my teacup is empty and Tali has gotten up to have a wee snack, I guess I’ll go back and see how the desk chair likes me.

I hope everyone is having a lovely Friday.

PS. Apologies in advance for typos (voice-os?) that may appear in the above.
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Later that same day:  Sat with the manuscript and added about 500 words.

I’ve been alternating ice and heat every hour and a half, I guess, to try to help get my back to normal.

I have eaten lunch!

There are many chores that I should be doing– clearing the dishwasher, reloading it, putting things away and etc. That’ll happen later, by I which I mean–oh, tomorrow, or maybe even Sunday.

For now, I have dared a Tylenol against increasing pain, and hoping it won’t make me sick.

My plans for the afternoon are taking my book to a comfy chair, turning on the heating pad, and reading.

This is even more boring than writing all day. My apologies.
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This is one of Rook’s whiskers. It is four-and-three-quarters inches long.

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Sigh. So, I was warned a couple days ago to expect delivery of a package via USnail, which was not delivered and in addition vanished from Informed Delivery.  It showed up in the timeline again today as an expected delivery, so I went to look at it on the Informed Delivery page.

The package under question left Maryland on July 7, and made it all the way to the Southern Maine sorting center, from whence it was sent on to the Essex MA sorting center–which is to say in the Completely Wrong Direction. Essex decided to send the package to Rochester, NY, where it languished for a day or so before this morning hopping on a mail truck going north.

The package is still listed as Going to be Delivered by 9 pm today, which probably means to the local post office, and not my house, but even so.

Even so–it still needs to get through at least one, and probably two, sorting centers in Mass, then the Southern Maine sorting center, which is the center that sent it back to Mass in the first place.

I wonder if I should start a betting pool…
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And that’s what’s been going on at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory. Fingers crossed that this will all be History tomorrow.

Of puffins, whales, and the futility of doing good

So, yesterday, I finally went and booked myself into a combo whale watch/puffin cruise.  That will be next Thursday, and I’m under orders to present myself to Cap’n Fish at crack o’dawn thirty so we can get underway.

Which brings us to — today!

Friday. Raining for a change. Sarah’s due in a couple minutes, and the generator guy is supposed to stop by to do his annual inspection of Station Systems.

Breakfast was cream cheese on toast with a side of cherries. Lunch will be leftover lentil-and-sweet potato stew that I managed to screw up when I was making it (put in twice too many lentils, and no, I’m not really sure how that happened). Still, it can be recovered, and so it shall at lunchtime.

So, the blood pressure med returned an amazing result for, eh? four days? And I’m back into alt. Stress is a remarkable force.

I found just recently that a person of known ill repute is seeking to align with my life’s work in order to make themselves seem legitimate and lovable. Said person has a history of harassing me, and the problem with the current tactic is that the target can’t even talk about it without sounding crazy, which is quite apart from the damage that can’t be blocked. Because the way these things work is that my lustre will not bestow grace, but will in turn be tarnished by this person’s actions.

I’m also in receipt of a contract for an interview, and my first reaction on reading it was “I wouldn’t sign this if it was a contract for a story.” Which, in essence, it is. So, that’s set aside for another reading in a day or two, in case the words rearrange themselves.

Also! I realized last night that I have made two errors — possibly three errors — in Kin Right that I ought to fix if I can, so have written to Baen Traffic with a query. And lucky I am that the book’s scheduled so far out.

Let’s see, what else?

Ah. The birds who nest in the rain gutter have returned, and Rookie is climbing the screen. Rookie being much bigger than he was last year this time, I expect the screen to shortly be in ribbons, so! New screen on the list.

Plans for the day include — writing! At least I know what the next scene is in the WIP, so there is that.

What’s the cat doing at your house, today?

Speaking of cats — yesterday, I had to call in my counselor, who was able to get me settled enough to write.  I may be making another call this morning.  Thank goodness I can pay her in tummy rubs.