Tag: life after the apocalypse

Crystal World

Wednesday. Raining.

Well. That’s a right mess out there, that is. The steps are glassy with ice. I have administered ice melt. The smart money at the moment is on — Rolanni is staying in today. But, yanno; that could change.

. . . and as I type this, the plowguy arrives. I’m not sure he made anything better, but he’s clearly banking on this 55F-and-rain to clear us back down to a clean slate.

The next time I *do* get out, I’ll need to take on clay cat litter, along with more ice melt. And maybe a wreath. I’ve been thinking it would be nice to have an inside wreath, in keeping with Tradition. Not sure I’m up to getting out Steve’s Tree (it being Steve’s Tree, because his mom had made it for him), but I could maybe set out one of the glass trees. I do like some light in the Dark Times.

First cup of tea is brewing. I’m not sure what’s for breakfast, which condition, in the most recent rewriting of Da Rules, means, “oatmeal.” Da Rule Being: “If you can’t decide what’s for breakfast, it’s oatmeal. No skipping breakfast.”

Anyhoot, after breakfast, I will once again Survey the State of the Grounds, and see if I’m going out, or if I’m calling to cancel my hair appointment.

All other planning depending on the State of the Grounds, I guess I’d better get with breakfast, and! Oatmeal it is.

Update: I’ve decided not to risk my neck — or other important body part — on the ice.

Also, I have Suddenly! Realized! that I can buy a new lighted base for the crystal ball that Steve and I gave each other for a wedding present, back in 1980. The old base had long ago succumbed to leaking batteries, and was discarded. The ball has since graced a shelf in the living room.

* * *

For those who don’t take the Evening Edition, as it were, on Facebook, a small catchup:

Yesterday, instead of doing any of the Useful Things I should have done, I worked on my story. I regret nothing.

The guy, and his helper, did come by and installed all five programmable thermostats, which I then programmed. However, I forgot to hit “Run” at the end of the programation, and the house stayed at 69 all night, which was — kinda nice, actually, but not very efficient of fuel. I have today repaired my error, and the heat should get turned down on the overnight, which, yes, means the house will be cool, but this is after all why I have blankets.

. . . and that’s all the news and catchup, too. Now that I have the whole day ahead of me, I believe that I will — write.

Yeah.

Crystal ball, signed by the artist RW Stephanious (?),1980, given by Steve Miller to Sharon Lee, and by Sharon Lee to Steve Miller on the occasion of their marriage, November 6, 1980.

Winter Living

Tuesday. Snowed on the overnight, and the plowguy is somewhere in my future. Yanno what? Trash and recycling can stay right there in the garage and get dealt with next week.

Breakfast was an English muffin with cream cheese, and one of those little oranges — Peelz, they call themselves. Lunch ought to be fish-and-something. I guess We’ll See.

Fingers crossed that the guy who agreed to replace the thermostats can still do that today.

I did a bit of puttering yesterday, baked some cookies, and inventoried winter gear. I have my winter jacket, Steve’s winter jacket; my Big Coat, and Steve’s Big Coat. So — well supplied there. I also have my gloves, Steve’s gloves (which are too big, but will do in a pinch), and various ear muffs, watchcaps, and scarves. And boots. I have two pair of boots — one short and one tall. Anyhoot — that’s winter sorted.

I wrote to Pair Network yesterday regarding the legacy email accounts. A rep has written back this morning with instructions for closing those mailboxes. Anyone who holds a “korval.com” address for either myself or Steve? Delete them from your address book.

Today, I’ll be deleting email accounts, as above, waiting for the electrician and the plow guy, taking down the window screens in my office, which Firefly has decided are *lovely* to hook her claws into, submit information regarding upcoming publications to the Maine Writers emagazine. I would *like* to look at my story, which was just gaining momentum. Word from Baen is that galleys for Diviner’s Bow will be arriving this week, so I have to consider the fact that I’m going to get interrupted again, RSN.

Last night after Coon Cat Happy Hour, I snuggled under my new blanket in a corner of the couch, which rather quickly accreted cats, put on the big, expensive headset Steve bought for me years ago, and listened to The Goblin Emperor. It was . . . really nice to just sit with my eyes closed and do nothing, except listen. I’m not much good at doing nothing, so that was a revelation. …it kind of reminded me when headphones had suddenly arrived on the home music scene, lying on the floor, tethered to the record player, eyes closed, and there was just — music. I s’pose that’s another option in this Brave New World; I’ve been used to playing music through a boom box, or the devices scattered ’round the house. Well.

So, there’s the news, such as it is.

How’s everybody doing?

Cat census and proof of life:

 

In Which the Writer Recovers

Um. Monday, I believe. Cloudy and cold.

It was a challenge getting out of bed this morning, but I managed the thing by a little after seven, rustled up some oatmeal with sour cherry jam, and am now waiting on the kettle so I can have my second cup of tea before I go to gym, ref “cold” above. Not that I expect it to get that much warmer, but it will give the ice melt time to work on the steps, and me, time to get a little more awake.

Today will be all about catching up on the things I didn’t do this weekend, in favor of turning the copy edits around at faster-than-light speeds. And a nap. A nap sounds really good. But not before gym.

For those who worry about such things, in which set I include myself, the plowguy did come yesterday, around 6:00, I guess. The fact that it now gets dark in the middle of the afternoon makes it seem like everything is happening at midnight.

What else? Ah! Actual News of Note! To wit:
1. Ebook preorders of Sea Wrack and Changewind now stand at! Amazon, 327; Apple, 10; BN, 2; Kobo, 9.

2. The trade paper edition of Sea Wrack… will go on sale this Friday, December 13. The ebook will publish on December 17. The audiobook will be available from Tantor on January 28.

3. The mass market paperback of Ribbon Dance, of which I had begun to have Doubts, will, so I learn in Locus, publish in April.

3a. No, I’ve heard nothing further regarding the audiobook from Tantor.

4. The hardcover and ebook editions of Diviner’s Bow will be published on April 1.

4a. No, I don’t know when the eARC will be offered; possibly 90 days before the Official Pub Date.

4b. No, I have no information about an audiobook.

Oh, look; the sun’s coming out.

So! That’s my news. What’s yours?

Here’s a picture of Apprentice Editorial Assistant Rook Thunderpaws hard at work this weekend:

Onward

Sunday. Snowing.

First cup of tea has brewed. Breakfast will be skyr and toast because it’s easy and I can eat it while I read.

Today! is copy edits, and trying to make some sense of the additions to the glossary.

Last night, I watched the first episode of the Marlow Murder Club. I’m interested enough to watch the second.

After — yeah, eyes wouldn’t focus sufficiently to read, and I’d already been reading all day. I listened to The Goblin Emperor for a bit (which was comforting), and so to bed.

Firefly is in the window, watching the snow. Trooper wants to know what I’m doing at the damn’ computer AGAIN, and Rook just came in from the other room to find out what Trooper’s yelling about.

Whatcha doin’ today?

Why Writers Drink, Part — are to we ten million, yet?

Saturday. Cold and grey.

We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory are under Rush Orders from the publisher and so will be scarce until the copy edits have been reviewed/accepted/rejected.

<complaint>I had A Plan. My Plan was to write a nice, comfortable short story, to get back into the mindset of writing-not-editing, interspersed with making chili, breads, and other Stuff for the freezer so as to be prepared to slip into writing the next book. Forget that Plan.</complaint>

Kettle’s on. Breakfast will be PBnJ onna whole wheat English muffin. Lunch — oh, who knows.

I did set the alarm for O’Ghod O’Clock, and I did get up to turn up the thermostats. But then I went back to bed for another hour, because I’d rather work late in a warm house than early in a freezing one.

And that? Is the news that’s fit to print.

Everybody stay warm, or cool, or whatever may be appropriate.

Attack of the blanket pirates

Friday. Sunny and cold. 23F/-5C right now, said to be heading all the way up to 26F/-3C.

Breakfast was a blueberry muffin. Kettle on for second cup of tea, while I wait for the sun to clear the trees. Lunch will be turkey cutlet, since I bought a pack on sale. One for today, three more to freeze for later.

So! It snowed yesterday. The plowguy came and took care of most of it. The little bit that came down after his visit really is a little bit. I threw ice melt on the steps before I filled the kettle for the first cup of tea.

Today, I go to gym, even though it’s cold and what I really want to do is curl up under a blanket and nap. Adulting sucks. While I’m out, I’ll hit the post office, and the grocery, then I’ll be in until Monday, when the gym once more will require my presence.

I had a good day of writing yesterday — 1,958 new words, bringing the short story to +/-2,575. That was hand-drafted while sitting in the comfy chair in my office, then transcribed/edited/typed into the computer. Absent the option of napping under a blanket, the comfy chair, pad and pen to hand, is looking like where I’ll be this afternoon.

I started to read Alliance Unbound, realized within the first three pages that I had no idea who these people were, and am now re-reading Alliance Rising. I remembered that Steve and I had read it out loud to each other, but — 2018? Yeah. A lot has happened since 2018, not forgetting that we wrote seven books and a buncha short stories of our own, since.

In Actual News: The preorders for Sea Wrack and Changewind have suddenly taken off — thanks to everyone who took the time! We’re now at 264 Amazon preorders; 10 Apple; 2 BN; 9 Kobo. Amazon also lets me know that the ebook edition is the Number One New Release in Fantasy Anthologies and Short Stories.

The trade paper edition of Sea Wrack… will go on sale on Friday, December 13. The ebook will publish on December 17. The hardcover — I’m waiting for a proof of the hardcover, which will not arrive yet for *weeks*, so any hardcover edition will be well down the road.

And that’s the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s new with you?

Oh, I may or not have reported here that I bought a new blanket during my trip to the local salvage place a couple days ago.  Yesterday, it came under inspection from the Quality Control Team.  I think it passed…

In which the writer declares for no drama

Thursday. Grey and … well, it has snowed, somewhat …

sticks head out door

… I guess it might be said to be mizzling.

Breakfast was scrambled egg with onion and a spoonful of potato salad, because (1) I never did make hardboiled eggs and (2) the potato salad needs to be used. Lunch is prolly a tuna sandwich on homemade wheat toast, with could be a side of tomato soup. It’s kind of a tomato soup day.

Gym is hereby put off til tomorrow.

Before I forget! Land’s End is having a half-price sale, ending today. In case you, like me, need mock tnecks.

Last night, I said that I was going to be declaring today drama-free, and I’m standing by that decision. I’ll be over in the comfy chair, writing.

I hope everyone has a similarly quiet, productive, and peaceful day.

Here, have some pictures of cats being quiet and peaceful.

In which practice makes perfect, eventually

Wednesday. Sunny and cold. The Weatherbeans are calling a rain/snow event, starting this evening and continuing through tomorrow morning.

Breakfast was an apple fritter (what? They came in a box of three; I should waste them?) and cottage cheese. Second cup of tea brewing. Lunch — oh, what do I know?

Today, I am at home to work persons of various skill, and I have one additional phone call to make.

There’s a load of laundry in the washer, though I’m not sure how far I’ll be going down that path today.

Ingredients for a loaf of whole wheat bread are out on the counter, ahem, coming to room temperature.

Firefly and Rook are playing tag. This in the aftermath of Rook leaping into my lap while I was finishing breakfast, and putting his paw in the last spoonful of cottage cheese. Surprisingly, he did not receive the rest of the spoonful as a reward for his cleverness.

As reported elsewhere, I wrote 750 words last night in service of the short story I want to write. Morning light discovers them to be the wrong 750 words, but the fortunate part is that I now know how to get to The Point in a much more economical and, um, surprising, way. So, I’ll be thinking about that some more as I get the bread ready for its first rise.

I finished reading The Masquerades of Spring last evening, and liked it a great deal. I believe I’ll start Alliance Unbound this evening. Unless of course my eyes don’t want to focus, in which case my Plan B is to start listening to The Goblin Emperor.

So, those are the Big Wednesday Plans hereabouts.

Who else has Big Plans?

Below you see the coon cats, already at work.

And the key that was lost

And now? I’m gonna tell y’all a ghost story.

Gather ’round.

Long-time readers will perhaps recall that I have Thing about my suitcase lock. Inevitably, when we were packing, I would at the very last minute realize that I had lost the key to the lock, and I would panic, because packing is right up there among my Least Favorite Things To Do Ever. I would look in All the Places, getting ever more frantic, and finally at A Point, Steve would step in and walk me through the Places One More Time, narrating the whole journey in a perfectly calm and reasonable voice, and assuring me that I was very orderly, that the key was discoverable, and worlds were not about to burn.

And damn if he wasn’t — always — right. The key was right there on my keyring, or in the jewelry box, or in whatever other safe and reasonable place that I had already looked; relief reigned, and worlds did not, in fact, burn.

Fast forward to my trip to Norwich at the beginning of November. Yes, I lost the key to the suitcase lock; I looked everywhere and didn’t find it, sat down and cried. Then I toured the house, talking in as calm and reasonable voice as I could manage, telling myself that I was very orderly, that the key was discoverable, and worlds were not about to burn.

Well.

Worlds did not burn, but I didn’t find the key, either, and I finally just left the damn lock dangling from the zipper pull, threw the suitcase in the car and got on the road.

One more fast forward, to this morning.

I have been the sole driver of our car since last November. Remember this plot point.

I drove to gym; I drove to Marden’s. I opened the driver’s side door after I had successfully hunted rugs and blanket, and there, on the seat — was the key to my suitcase lock.

It hadn’t been there when I got into the car to go to gym. It hadn’t been there when I got out of the car at Marden’s.

Yes, I tested it — it’s the right key.

So, yanno, not much as ghost stories go. But there it is — for your consideration.

Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clements

Tuesday. Cloudy and cold. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Breakfast was rice crackers, cream cheese, and one of those tiny mandarin oranges. Finishing up the first cup of tea. Lunch — is hours from now.

I really need to go to gym and get back in the habit of going to gym. I used to go to gym so I could do stuff for us that Steve could no longer do, and that logic remains. I hate running without backup, but that’s the road, so — gym. No, really. Even though it’s cold and I don’t wanna.

After gym, I may or may not swing by Marden’s to see if I can find a runner — winter is here and snow will be tracked into the house. Better it melts on a rug than on the wood floors. I keep trying to remember what we did, yanno, last winter, and the five winters before, but — apparently it’s one of those minor details the brain scuttled to make room for Larger Things. I suppose it’s possible we just brought one of the runners from downstairs, upstairs, but they’re being used and useful where they are, so I’d rather just leave them where they’re doing good.

I got the proof trade paper of Sea Wrack and Changewind yesterday in the mail. My! That is a *handsome* book.

Preorders for Sea Wrack and Changewind ebook stand at 177 at Amazon; 10 at Apple; 2 BN; 9 Kobo.

. . . and that’s the news.

Off to gym with me.

Who else is going to gym today?