Tag: let them plant roses

Selling the chiefhold

What went before: So, proofed about 100 pages today, since I finished writing early, and the WIP had nothing more to say to me. That puts me well ahead of schedule, but honestly, I would be happy to get it done early so I can pick up another one of the writing-adjacent projects waiting in the wings.

I’ve been having a little problem with the shirt I’m embroidering. There’s the unexpected resistance offered by having to stitch through the paper grid and the shirt, even though I deliberately chose a light shirt. Also, the instructions are adamant, that I use a small hoop, and that . . . just isn’t working for me. The pattern is peeling up from the fabric and — just not working. One of my friends at needlework last night asked if I didn’t need a bigger hoop and I explained that a small hoop was called for, but the more I thought about it today, the more I really wanted a bigger hoop. So, I’ve made that adjustment. What I really want is an oval hoop, but I don’t have one in-hand, though I do have one on order, now.

Tomorrow evening is my first stained glass class, so that will be exciting. The plan is to write! first!, then see what I can do in the time left before class.

The cats have had Happy Hour, and it’s time for me to read the October 1 chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October, and then find a glass of wine and something to eat.

Everybody stay safe. Have a good evening.

I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Good morning:

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Writing session:  supervisors on the job:

 

 

 

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Well, let’s see.

Thursday. Sunny and seasonally warm.

The blanket I used to cover the rosebush last night was a little icy when I took it off at 8 o’clock. I’m not seeing a call for frost tonight, so that’s good. I have to look up this sort of rose and find what they want for winter.

In the meantime, this morning’s go at the keyboard netted+/-1,340 new words, bringing the WIP to +/- 88,800, which is kind of a pretty number, actually.

I have done my duty to the cats, and taken a walk. I’m planning on a late lunch because my evening class goes late. Ish.

Sarah confirms that she will be here bright and early tomorrow to clean — it’s been a while, what with having to cancel last time so I could see my doctor in Bath. The house is looking a little wild because my first priority has been to keep up with the writing and writing-adjacent stuff. Housekeeping is ‘way down on the list of Other Stuff I feel compelled to accomplish.

I read the October 1 chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October last night, in which we get Insight into Snuff’s duties. I’m reading aloud, because it feels Wrong not to, though that will perhaps change. The cats are … not unamused. Firefly at least remembers this thing.

And I think that’s it, aside a snippet. We haven’t had a snippet in a while.

How’s everybody doing?
* * *
SNIPPET:
Val Con looked to Shan. “I haven’t seen this room open since Uncle Er Thom brought that person from the Aeschalees on-board.”

“Good gods.” Shan stared at him. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

“You’d been sent down to secure the trade,” Val Con said. “But I was cabin boy and called upon to serve.”

“Thus all I have is hearsay. And the rug, of course. Though it did clean up nicely.”

“And the trade was preserved,” Val Con continued, “and Uncle Er Thom was pronounced a chief of the Aeschaleen.”

“That I do remember,” Shan said. “Mother would occasionally ask how his second and third wives went on. Which was really too bad of her.”

“More cousins?” Miri asked.

“Sadly not,” Val Con answered. “He saw the wives each well-set-up in their own establishments with the proceeds from the sale of his chiefhold.”

Shan laughed. “Father had his moments, admit it.”

Forward to the fall

What went before: Back from needlework. Cats have had Happy Hour. I have two more business-like things to do before I can call it a day. Aside those two things, I think I did everything that needed doing (except writing) today, including reading 50 pages of proofs.

Tomorrow sees a return to the Write First Schedule.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

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I rate two supervisors this morning. Tali is taking her off-shift in the living room.

 

 

 

 

Wednesday. Chilly. Still working with the heat pumps, but if this keeps up, I might have to turn on the actual oil heat.

The morning writing session produced +/-1,755 new words, for a grand total-ish of 87,400.

Breaking early because End of Scene, and also? I’m starving. And given that I’m losing weight, but I’m not trying to lose weight, I figured I ought to Listen To My Body.

After lunch: one’s duty to the cats; walk; read page proofs; answer email — not necessarily in that order.

What’s everybody think of Snuff?

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Frost advisory this evening!  And my rose bush has a dozen (I counted) buds on it.

Team Orca and other whimsies

Monday. Sunny and warm. All windows that open have been opened.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with the last of the potato salad. Yes, I do this a lot. Yes, I like potatoes far too much. Lunch is in the oven — a small salmon steak, because I can’t remember the last time I actually ate fish, which is not particularly good news, as the cancer docs think that fish three times a week is just about right. Admittedly, my personal best was twice a week for several months, and that was with Steve pushing for all he was worth to make it happen.

I am very much liking this new writing schedule. Sat down at 9, and got up at 11:30 1,280 words the richer, and they’re good, says I, as shouldn’t.

Tomorrow, unfortunately, a break in the schedule, as I have an early visit to the vampires scheduled, something that hasn’t happened in way too long, ref hospital exploding, doctors landing all over the map, having to apply to be a new patient at the practice my PCP landed at, And! all like that.

I was watching a Josh Johnson clip, in which he was talking about the fact that the orcas had attacked another yacht, and the resonate phrase was, “Who expected the orcas would step up?” Which got me to wondering if there was a TEAM ORCA! sweatshirt and how I would go about getting one.

Facebook has also been serving me reels from Quincy’s Tavern, which is an … interesting work perhaps in progress. And it gives me the chance to use the word “ledgerdemain” with non-ironic precision, and with admiration.

Now that lunch is done, I’m on to the business part of the daily schedule: I seem to have a phone call and two letters to write, and! a Sooper Sekrit project to work on. So? I’d best get at it.

How’s Monday going for you lot?

Oh, wait!  Pictures.

Rosebush update!  It’s doing splendidly — new flowers and buds promising more:

And, I had intended to take a selfie, to prove that I was feeling much more the thing, but … Rookie had a better idea.  Admittedly, he is much more glamorous.

Off-kiltering

What went before: So, today has been a mismash of working and laying around. I did get some WIP-reading done, and a lot more of lying in bed by turns listening to The Goblin Emperor (which I know so well I’m not stressed about missing things) and dozing. Back is still tender, but not so much as even this morning, so, yanno — progress progresses.

I’m hoping to be done with the worst of this particular brand of nonsense by tomorrow. fingers crossed

The cats are liking the lying in bed part of the day’s structure. I fear they’re going to be disappointed when the schedule returns to what I like to call normal.

I may try to get one more shift of WIP-reading in this evening. Or I may just watch the last three episodes of WandaVision.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll check in tomorrow.

Saturday. Cool-for-now and sunny. Windows in my office are open.

Woke up early and ill, but hey! At least my back doesn’t hurt. Currently sipping ginger ale. Trooper has had his morning gravy-with-meds.

I did watch the last three episodes of WandaVision last night. Pulling the witch out the hat was . . . facile, and honestly, I’m not inclined to follow Agnes any further down her road.

I’m actually amazed that Marvel tried to undertake a story about life-changing grief, and that they managed as well as they did. Even unto that very difficult — and correct — ending. And Wanda’s love for Vision did not allow her to remember/recreate him wrongly.

One of the things that we as writers do over and over is to use death as a plot device — the motivating force that triggers the Real Story. And while it’s true that the Lost Girl, the Dead Spouse, the Slaughtered Village releases a lot of energy, surely there are other means available?

Going back to Wanda — I’m interested in the smart girl with the bright red lipstick — Darcy? — who seems to be a continuing character. Does anyone know where I might find more of her?

And on that note — woman does not take her meds on ginger ale alone, so I’d better see what I can cobble together and call breakfast.

I expect it will be another Off-Kilter Day here.

What’s the day looking like there?

Rosebush proof of life:

Like a small earthquake

What went before: So, everything except the writing corner is more or less good to go. I have one more bill to pay, and the afterword to write. Afterword may not happen today, but that’s OK. I know what I want to say, and by definition, it’s not a long piece.

It’s in my mind to take tomorrow off, really, and go down to Rockland to the Farnsworth Museum (which for some reason, I thought was open year-round, but it closes for the season at the end of September?). This will get me (1) a ride (2) salt air (3) art (4) if I play my cards right, breakfast or lunch (or both?) out. All of those things are wins and are known Soothers of Frazzled Writers Surnamed Lee Who Reside at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

This will mean I can sit down and start reacquainting myself with the WIP (again) on Wednesday. I do have some minor commitments, but nothing Epic, like, say, driving to Baltimore or proofing a novel, on the calendar until, oh, Albacon, where I have volunteered to be a Zoom panelist, and to do a reading.

I can feel my blood pressure dropping already.

So, that’s the plan, insofar &c. Happy Hour is coming up in an hour or so, and that will be tools down for me as well.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow as can.

Tuesday: So, a nice day was had by … me, actually. As it happens, I didn’t eat out at all — breakfasted at home so Trooper was sure to get his morning meds, and second breakfast. Then, I had half a quiche in the fridge, so I just took a piece with me for lunch, which turned out to be a GOOD idea because I found a place at a park adjacent to the public dock, which is where Steve and I usually stopped in Rockland, and ate my lunch to a new-to-me view of the harbor, in the sunshine, and I need to get better about remembering to wear a hat. But!

The Farnsworth Museum is a very nice museum spread over three buildings and some storefronts on Main Street. I wandered the museum, then Main Street, bought cookies at the Atlantic Bakery, since I am tragically out of cookies at home (I also need to make my own cookies; it’s not like it’s hard), and ate my lunch as reported.

Then, I went to Camden and got my passport stamped at Reny’s.

It was a day of meeting old friends, the first of which — I’ve been listening to the 60s station on Sirius XM, and I hate to tell you how many of those songs I know the words to. Add these to the songs at play from Classics Vinyl and Rewind, and I could probably do Great Things with my brain, if it wasn’t stuffed full of song lyrics.

But, anyway — on the way over to Rockland, I heard a song I haven’t thought of for … ever — Neil Diamond’s “Brother Love’s Travelling Salvation Show,” which, yes, I knew all the words, OK? — and I can’t tell you how fond I used to be of the Brother’s little sermon, which was produced before people stopped believing that kind of thing.

Inside the museum, met a painting of Marshall Point Light — and yes, I did embarrass myself by saying aloud, “Marshall Point Light!” — and then embarrassed myself again by laughing out loud — there’s a full-sized Langlais camel in the museum garden. I had just recently seen a much smaller one at the Langlais Exhibit in Waterville — and I didn’t know they came in sizes!

I also listened, and watched an illustration being painted, to the story about how Glooskap (Klooskap) invented the arrow, and Mount Kineo of the most perfect stone for arrowheads, which all the Abenaki people knew (this last part is true. It’s well to question Glooskap closely on these matters.), and watched a demonstration of arrowhead napping. This was a video in the Abenaki Room, and well worth the watching.

So, anyhoots, home again, where I fed Trooper some gooshy food and myself some ice cream from home stores (Gifford’s Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip). I debated going to needlework tonight, but I think I’ll rest at home, by which I mean check what I’ve printed out of the WIP and if it is, indeed, the Most Current or if I need to print a new edition to read.

So! How was your day?

Today’s blog post title from, what else? Neil Diamond, “Brother Love’s Travelin’ Salvation Show”

Photos on the day:  The view at lunch; camel, large and small; Marshall Point Light.  Oh, and the morning rose bush.

One of these mornings, you’re gonna rise up singing…

What went before ONE: Aaaand home.

Spent hours in Michael’s. Which counts as a treat. Did not need to go to Target, because I found it in Staples. Toured Best Buy briefly to research tablets, because I think I’m going to buy a new tablet, though God She knows I have enough technology in this house to choke a camel.

First though! Now that Trooper, who met me at the door demanding to know WHERE HIS FOOD WAS, has been satisfied and is cleaning up, I’ve gotta find something to eat.

It is hot, and the air is thick, so I am glad to be back on Station Air.

What went before TWO: I am suddenly and for no reason bitterly tired.

So! Needlework was fun; we had a full house tonight, several new people, and some folks we hadn’t seen for a while. I had been going to take my shirt to embroider, but, with one thing and page proofs, I didn’t have time to make the transfer, so I grabbed my fox sampler and my traveling kit (the fox sampler may be five years old. I would bring it with me to cons, and work it on when we were on the train. At this remove, I’m not sure what I had in mind for the fox himself, who is maybe half-finished, so I just worked on some leaves this evening.

The cats have had Happy Hour, and I have poured myself a glass of wine. Tomorrow, there will be reading of page proofs.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Wednesday. Sunny and? Going to be warm. What a surprise. We are on Station Air.

Breakfast was a bialy and cream cheese, with a side a grapes. Lunch will be a veggie burger with cheese.

I slept a whopping 7 hours and 55 minutes, and I actually do not feel like something the cat drug in (as we said in the Land of My Birth, where “drug” was the past participle of “drag”. “Flang,” however was not the past participle of “flung.” You had to go further south for that.).

The rosebush not only continues to survive, but there it’s blooming its silly head off.

Today, there will be Reading, of (1) a contract and (2) page proofs. If anyone wants me, I’ll be back in Steve’s office.

What’s on your schedule today?

Today’s blog post title from “Summertime,” from Porgy and Bess. The original from the opera is, IMHO, insupportable, but then I don’t tend to much like opera.  Here we have Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, which is Much More The Thing.

Rosebush, doing its thing:

My beacon’s been moved under moon and star

What went before ONE: All righty, then! Duty to the cats accomplished; walk walked; vacuuming and mopping done; grapes and cheese had for second breakfast; realized that every word I wrote yesterday is unnecessary, sigh, though the exercise did demonstrate what was necessary. Next up is my lunch, which will be a frozen box, because that’s exactly how ambitious I’m feeling.

I did not put my latest embroidery into my book — won’t fit for one thing. Instead, I sewed it to the hoop and hung it in the bedroom, where I’ll be able to see the Ribbons every day.

People want to know where I got the pattern, answering being “From a friend who was reducing her stash by increasing mine.” But! If you search of “Tales from the Hoop” you will find the Etsy shop from which it was purchased.

Trooper nagged me for food throughout all of the above, and I did serve him, but he’s not actually eating food today, just ordering it.

The weatherbeans that it’s 82F outside and the AQI is 154. We are, yes, on Station Air.

This has been your mid-day check-in.

What went before TWO: I have no idea how many new words I wrote today. Somewhere north of 1,390, but since I had to frog a scene — like I said: no idea.

The WIP entire now weighs in at +/-64,540.

In Other News, the page proofs for the anniversary edition of I Dare (first published by Meisha Merlin in February 2002) have landed and need to be back to the publisher by August 12. It’s printing out even as I type this.

Word production on the WIP may slow somewhat. Also? Reading I Dare at this juncture is going to be Interesting in several ways.

I Dare of course was the seventh book of the seven book series Steve and I had initially intended to write, and is also the book that introduces Theo Waitley.

Good thing I bought ahead on Irish Breakfast Tea.

We have entered the Time-Space Continuum known as Coon Cat Happy Hour, so I’ll be getting up to serve in a minute.

Trooper has begged for food constantly today, and rejects all but bisque. He has eaten three envelopes of bisque, so that’s at least something. I am . . . not quite very worried. Not quite.

And on that note — everybody stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

What went before THREE: Oh, Skydance’s conditions-of-sale guarantees actually helps me make sense of the farewell monologue from the host of After Midnight, in which she says she had honestly expected that the network would replace the host, not shut down the show. But the show’s executive producer was Stephen Colbert, and the host was a female stand-up comic about whom I know nothing, but that is, honestly, Just Me. She seemed very genuine in her opening remarks, including the thanks to her team and her guests and educating the audience in exactly how much work goes into putting on a show every. single. day. She remarked several times that people had said she was the only person who could have pulled this show off, and that, no, there were many many talented people who could have done it, some of whom she had been certain would be tapped for her replacement. (To be clear: she had decided, after two years, to leave TV and go back to her True Calling, doing live Stand Up, so she tendered her resignation, believing she would be replaced as host.)

It’s an interesting commentary. You can find it on Youtube.

But, Skydance! Skydance, as part of the conditions of sale has sworn to root out those in the former Paramount/CBS organization who are female, disabled, mean or sarcastic to little men with no souls, and abolish wokeness in all its flavors.

And, yanno, that’s not scary at all.

Is it?

Sunday. Sunny, breezy, and not warm yet. My office windows are open for the cats, but I expect I’ll have to go to Station Air mid-morning. We still stand, or, yanno, sit, beneath an Active Air Quality Alert. Apparently a Dark Plume of Particulates is extending itself over the region. Huzzah.

I slept for 7 hours and 44 minutes, it says here. Trooper did not smack me in the face, once. I attribute this miracle to sleeping with the covers pulled over my head, which was made possible by the cpap machine. Finally I find a good side to the damned device.

I’ve been kinda mooching around since I got up, doing the Sunday Slow Rise. It’s been . . . different. Different is good, I’m told.

Breakfast was homemade whole wheat toast, cottage cheese, and grapes. Lunch will be I Have No Idea. I will say that my experiment of meatballs and red sauce over bread the other day proved that this concept, um, needs work. Sadly, I have meatballs and red sauce left over — and absolutely no motivation to eat it.

As mentioned last night, the page proofs for the “anniversary” edition of I DARE (tradepaper, it says here, and I’ve written for confirmation that this is so), have landed. That’s 433 pages and 16 days, which means I need to Absolutely Read 27 pages a day. I’ll try for 50, because that will give me wiggle room, in case the sky falls and I can’t read one day.

Because my office is in Middle of Book Chaos, I’ll be setting the proofreading project up in Steve’s office, which ought to confuse the cats, so that’s worth doing.

So, recapping — Today’s to-do includes one’s duty to the cats, finding something to eat for lunch, proofing 50 pages of I Dare, and, should there be time and brain power, writing new words.

How’s your Sunday treating you?

Today’s blog post title courtesy of Golden Earring, “Twilight Zone.”

For rosebush fans, proof of life:

Stones are the bones of the earth

What went before ONE: Making dhal for (my) lunch.

Trooper resting comfortably in the copilot’s chair. Firefly in the box on the desk. Rookie stretched out on my papers on the desk. Tali resting in Steve’s office.

Apparently, we’ve all had a rough morning and are seeking comfort.

What went before TWO: +/-970 new words today, which means! The WIP has broken 60,000. We may actually be able to do this thing.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Sunny, cool, and pleasant. Trash and recycling are at the curb.

The rose continues to survive in the front garden. I continue to apply chili powder around the base.

Trooper ate a pouch of gravy with meds included, and half of a three ounce can of Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna and Cheddar in gravy. Which is to say! He licked up all of the gravy, but then he actually did eat some of the food.

Trooper is on-deck to get his claws trimmed today, because he scratched my face this morning as he was pounding on me to get up, get up, GET UP AND FEED ME, WOMAN!

I? am very tired.

This morning, I would like to talk about rocks. Rocks have been a lifelong passion. When I was a kid, I read everything I could about rocks. I took a summer class in rocks in elementary school. I picked up rocks to take home and study. I could tell a igneous rock from a sedimentary rock, from a metamorphic rock. I loved agates, and my bucket list included finding garnets in the wild. I kept a Rock Notebook. I would talk for hours about rocks to anybody who made the mistake of asking me what I liked.

I just Loved Me some rocks, OK?

In adulthood, I kept with the picking up of Cool Stones. I would talk to Steve about rocks, mostly because he never learned not to say, “So, tell me about this one. What made you pick it up?”

And for one birthday, he surprised me with a trip into the Maine mountains to a “played out” quarry, where you could fill up a bucket with the broken stones from the discard heaps, then go sit under a tent and sift them, looking for tourmalines.

Best. Birthday. Present. Ever. And I was over 50 at the time.

I still have a lot of the rocks from that trip, even after having given away a box or two. A week or so ago, I decided to put some of the more interesting ones out on the deck on the table and let the rains cleanse them. Many of these rocks have inclusions; many have pits, where iron crystals had formed and then rusted away. A couple are just big chunks of black tourmaline. Some have quartz crystal inclusions, some, I think are garnets, but they might just as well be pink tourmaline. Some of the rocks are slabbed with mica, and, yes, there are tourmaline inclusions in almost every one. Very small tourmalines, mostly black. Black tourmaline is not as valued as the other colors.

[Taking a break to see what Trooper has made of the second half of the can of tuna and cheddar, and? The plate was clean (I put a closed door between him and the kids for this, so he dines in seclusion sometimes; other times, I butle for him.).]

OK, back to rocks. I’ve been checking the rocks on the outside table every morning, turning them and oohing and aahing over each new reveal. This morning, as I was performing this ritual, I noticed that the rains had really cleaned up a rock I particularly liked, and I could see crystals in its pebbly surface. And several of those crystals were green.

This is very exciting. Moreover, the rain has revealed in addition to white quartz crystals, and the green, many, many orange-ish crystals, which had given the piece its “pebbly” affect. This is basically a crystal farm, growing on a granite base.

Happy sigh

Thank you for listening to me talk about rocks.

Today at 11 I’m expecting an arborist, who will tell me now much it’s going to cost to take the scary pine trees at the head of the drive down before the winds knock them down and they hit the house, taking a swath of wires with them. Tonight is needlework. Between now and then, I have my duty to the cats, and I wish to write. And, yes, trim Trooper’s claws — that smack was way too close to my eye.

So! What childhood passion still makes you happy as an adult?

Have some pictures. On the table of rocks, those two black chunks? Those are black tourmaline.

“Just try to make it sound like you wrote it that way on purpose.”

What went before:  So, a slow start, ending with +/-1,287 new words, for a Full WIP wordcount of!

+/-58,890.

. . . I am going to have to go back and fill in so many holes, and I am going to have to eventually figure out That Thing, but “eventually” is the operative word, and Future Me is going to be Quite Put Out with me.

OTOH, we have motion in a forwarder direction.

The cats are demanding Happy Hour, I have pots ‘n pans to wash, and, oh, I should try to find The French Connection somewhere.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Damp and dim and cool(ish). “Violent” thunderstorms are apparently on the menu.

The rose survived another night.

Breakfast was onion, potato salad, and leftover broccoli scrambled with an egg. Whole wheat toast with strawberry jam on the side. Lunch — if nothing else, I have salmon cakes left over from yesterday.

I need to sneak out to the grocery for cat food, and some fruit while I’m at it. I also want to stop at Reny’s, which opens at 9, so that’s my window for getting out of here.

Today, I need to change out the cat fountains and I probably ought to do other housekeeping-like things, but the chances are I’ll be in the comfy chair, making Notes for the WIP, since yesterday’s scene Revealed where that other scene needs to go, and what its job is. I love how writing is such an orderly process.

No, wait a minute — no. I don’t. It’s one of life’s ironies that I was trained as a secretary, to make and keep order inside of Chaos. I was also the order-keeper in the partnership, which is a Testament to Steve’s capacity for Chaos.

Ah. The thunderstorms are projected to arrive about 11 am. I therefore Make Plans — out at nine, back before 11. I can do this.

Oh. I should say, in re the film I was looking for: NOT The French Connection, which I have heard of but never seen, and actually have no desire to see (apologies to all of those who sang out with great love for the experience). The movie I was looking for is The French Dispatch (Wes Anderson), and the search goes on. Possibly, I can stream it from Amazon, if Amazon will stop fetching me 404s instead of film pages.

I also need to finish reading John’s book so I can take it back to the library on Tuesday, and give somebody else a chance. I mention this because the library sent me a note, telling me that my book is due back soon.

So! What’re you doing today?

Today’s blog post title is from The French Dispatch.  And now you know why I want to watch it.

This is one of the day lilies I rescued from last year’s landscaping project.  Turns out to be one of Steve’s Special Sort, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to see it.

But you and I, we’ve been through that

Begin as you mean to go on…

SNIPPET ONE:
The red was beyond excellent. Jen Sin closed his eyes, the better to savor it, and heard Val Con speak.

“I see you’re refining Theo’s taste. But, the jade, Brother? Surely you might have taught her to drink something a bit less dear.”

“It’s not quite so dear,” answered the rich voice of his cousin Shan, “when you have a connection, and a discount. And the jade suits her.”

What went before: So, that’s 1,121 new words written today in two shifts, bringing the WIP entire to +/-56,880 words.

Had a good chat with my friends at Holy Cannoli, where I can attest that the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies are still delicious.

I thought it was going to rain, and it did drizzle a little, but I had been promised a thunderstorm, to usher in a cooler tomorrow, and I’d still kinda like that, please.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served up and consumed, and I’m about to pour myself a glass of wine and go see if I’m still annoyed with Dr. Who, or if I can finish watching the episode I bailed on — a week ago? Two? Whatever.

I have an early appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow, and then I’m pretty much Free until Tuesday.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Sunny and cooler. Windows OPEN. Station air is convenient, but I really prefer ambient conditions.

Woke up earlier than I had planned. Turns out that all four cats were low on snuggles, so we did that for a while before I got up and found, yanno, clothes.

The rosebush has survived another night; no sign of digging activity, though it did rain a little last night, so I’ll have to re-up the hot pepper.

Breakfast was a peach cut up into cottage cheese with tea. More tea to hand, and probably more tea after that. I’ll probably make salmon cakes for lunch; which is, among other things, guaranteed leftovers.

My phone updated itself last night, always an exciting time. The best new toy is a button that will allegedly identify music playing nearby. I used it successfully twice, but now it’s not working, or maybe Google doesn’t recognize Bon Jovi’s “Lay Your Hands on Me,” which I would say the chances of that are…low.

Anyhoots — it’s still early, so I guess I’d better do some of the chores I was going to do later, so I have more time to work, later.

I do have a doctor’s appointment at 10, and a short stop at the grocery after, but that’s all I’ve got to write about.

I can share another SNIPPET, for those who may be interested. Shan and Val Con are in rare form, I fear:

“However, if Val Con wishes to come the disapproving banker – “

Val Con raised his hands. “Acquit me! The red is everything that is wonderful, Master Trader, and I will prove my word by shortly having another glass. I thank you for your generosity on behalf of us all.”

Shan eyed him. “I sense an upcoming bid for my cook.”

“That,” Val Con returned primly, “is not for me to decide.”

“I believe you enjoy saying that,” Shan said.

“I believe I do, too,” Val Con answered, cordially.

And that said! What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Jimi Hendrix, “All Along the Watchtower”

Cat tax  Rookie and Firefly being coy, each in their own manner