Tag: life after the apocalypse

Out Sick Part II

Tuesday. Sunny, though we’re supposed to be looking for a winter storm or maybe that’s blowing out to sea, what do I know?

Still sick. Still resentful. Not really interested in eating but I have to so I can take the magic drugs. Been reading a Gentleman in Possession of Secrets.

Tali helped me sit in the sun earlier. Now I’m on the couch and Firefly is sitting on the back, flirting and purring. Last seen, Rookie was asleep in the bed.

And that’s what I’ve got. Hope everybody’s having a good day.

This dictated to my phone.

Some are born to greatness

The Long Back Yard:

Saturday. Late getting up. Sunny and cold.

Firefly joined me on the couch last night and went to sleep really hard so I stayed with her and finished my book. Then I got up and wandered out to my office which was so bright that I thought I must have left the light on.

But no, it was the Moon. What a beautiful, beautiful moon, and the world turned black and white.

Shadows black and magical across the snow filled yard.

I sat on the cats observation table for a while and communed with the moon, which meant I didn’t get to bed until after midnight.

And here we are.

This was dictated via my phone
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So, today I’m taking down the decorations; have a couple of errands in the afternoon. Any writing will likely be of the Sitting with the Manuscript variety. Also need to swap out the cat fountains, in anticipation of which the dishwasher is doing its thing.

How’s everybody doing this morning?
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Decorations down — I nearly forgot the window star, but remembered it when there was a box with nothing in it.

Errands run. I have a grinder on loan, thanks to the generosity of Carmela Patriotti. Ordered in dunch while I was putting the taken-down decorations away. Dishwasher emptied and now it’s time to swap out the cat fountains, after which I do believe I may collapse on the couch and avoid the news.

All that said, I’ll just say my goodnights now.

Everybody stay safe, be careful, hug the people you love.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you from the man who wrote Shakespeare’s plays, from Twelfth Night:  “Some are born to greatness, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”

Firefly helped me take the tree down:

It’s plain to see we’re over

Wrote about 1,000 words so far. Taking a break to do PT homework, and to open the door so the FedEx guy could put the cat litter in the vestibule for me, and to come to terms with a couple of hard truths.

Hard truth number 1 — I’m not going to be able to give stained glass the attention it deserves. I want to do it, but — writing first, and cats, and PT, and having to sleep — and I don’t have time to embrace another art as it deserves. I hate this, but here we are. I still intend to finish my second piece, but I think I won’t be going forward.

Damn.

Second hard truth — I’m really glad I had two other people read the results of my MRIs and talk to me about what they mean, because I just got a note from my doctor saying that the results are “unremarkable.” Now, the results are not epically bad, and if I keep at the PT, I can probably get to a place where my back will be stronger and less likely to kick out (though it occurred to me last night that I still need some kind of drug intervention on hand for if/when it does), but the tone of this thing is “It’s all in your head,” which, when I was a kid and having a hard time figuring out what was this “real” people kept talking about, was devastating. I’d gotten it wrong again, and mixed up Story Stuff and Real Life Stuff.

My skill level on that front is much better 60-odd years down the road, and now? I’m mad. No, it is not in my head. Yes, it is remarkable because if I don’t do something now, it will get worse. Jeebus, do I gotta explain this stuff to a doctor?

Also, there’s a bill from the practice, which, yeah, I really feel like paying.

What else? Oh. I brought my boom box up from the studio and rigged it up with an extra set of Steve’s high-end Bose speakers, and now I can listen to CDs from our own collection in the living room in the evening when the cats and I retire to read, and I’m not dependent on Sirius or Maine Public playing exactly what I want to hear.

Speaking of which — this morning I heard something interesting on Sirius XM (thank you, Tommy London). Once Upon a Time, there was a band called Damn Yankees, which was a pretty good band — Ted Nugent, Tommy Shaw, Jack Blades, and Michael Cartellone — that put out two pretty good albums. And, as they were on their way, literally, to the studio to get album number three in the can, they were contacted by their agent. Their label was offering them a million bucks not to make the album.

They took the money, and the band . . . disbanded.

Now, I have no idea what discussions ensued before they made their decision, but, my ghod, what a decision to have to make. And I can see that one consideration would be that, if the label wanted to get rid of them to the tune of a cool mil, if they didn‘t take the money, it was likely the third album would never be promoted and the band would still have to disband — and be broke, too.

Well.

Time for PT homework. I may send out for Chinese for lunch. Or not. I have leftover curry. Speaking of decisions…
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I’m always pleased when Steve joins me for my walk. Today I was offered the insight that the thing which has blocked my finishing of my second piece of stained glass isn’t a lack of time — when I was cutting pieces out, I’d go to the studio for an hour in between writing this or that and cut glass — but lack of a tool, which also comes down to a lack of time. I don’t have a grinder, and I therefore need to rent a studio and drive out for what amounts to a day to grind my pieces.

If I had a grinder in-house, I could just keep on with my hour of Art While I Think.

So, now what I need to ask is: Am I committed enough to this new art to purchase a grinder?

Whole different question.

And? Collaboration in action.
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So that’s a total of 1,841 words on the day, bringing the WIP to 121,060ish. The scene I wrote today may be too long, but I liked the character. And of course the minute I got up, I thought of two other things that need to happen in that scene, so! I printed it out to read tomorrow morning while I’m in the comfy chair with the sunlamp.

I’m thinking this weekend is divesting myself of Christmas. The wreath is kinda bleeding needles, and the cats are not fans.

I had leftover curry for lunch, and by virtue of adding leftover peas and rice, and throwing in some onions and some green pepper, there’s still curry left over, though I’ll probably give it a break tomorrow.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Everybody stay safe and have a good evening.

I’ll look in tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Deep Blue Something, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”

Oh, no, wait! That’s not all I’ve got. Here, have a picture of Rookie.

Thursday. . .

The Long Back Yard

So. Thursday. Grey and on-and-off snow showers. Yes, that means I now have a icy driveway with a coating of snow.

I went to bed more or less at my regular time, and got up more or less at my regular time. Tali came to keep me company while I sat with the Happy Lite, and after breakfast, all three of the cats hustled me back to Steve’s office, with three very high tails: Oh, Good! Mom’s gonna work!

Breakfast was — all together now! — oatmeal with peanut butter and chocolate chips (Note to self: get more peanut/almond butter). Lunch was chicken in butter masala over rice with grapes on the side (Note to self: get more chicken breasts). Before anybody gets too excited the sauce came out of a jar, but I quick defrosted the chicken and browned it, so, yay! Cooking.

I had to name a ship and a Scout Archivist team, so I only wrote about 700 new words, though part of that was:

“Is that humor?”

Jen Sin thought for a moment. “Do you know? I’m not certain.”

Next up is putting away dishes, washing pots ‘n pans and writing some notes for the next section of Agent of Change. I’ll post a link when it’s up.

How’s everybody doing today?

Last post of 2025

2026 accounting set up. Got sidetracked on the swapping out of files by the recollection that Dead River was supposed to have delivered oil yesterday and?

That didn’t happen.

Called, and the dispatcher is temporarily unavailable, and someone will call me back. Staved off a panic attack by stripping the bed and putting the sheets in to wash. Tali came to sit on my lap, and assured me that she’d go get oil for me, just as soon as she got in all her scheduled naps. Won’t do to get behind schedule.

So, I’m guessing I should finish with the files, then heat up my leftovers, and hope somebody calls me back, or yanno, just sends an oil truck.
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The oil truck has arrived, and the young lady in charge has knocked on the door to make sure that “This is the house, right?”

And another praise well-earned, the young lady did not bring her truck down into my still slidey drive, but parked across the top. While she was minding the hose, the mailman came by, so I put on my ice grippers and my jacket. By the time I was ready to brave the tundra, she was coming back with my receipt and my mail — “Oh, no!” she said. “I didn’t want you to have to do all this. You stay safe, and stay warm!”

The home office at Dead River couldn’t exactly tell me why my oil has not been delivered on schedule, but they sent their A Level to fix it.

For whomever was wondering about the price of oil — Mary Carol?

268.1 gallons #2 heating oil @ $3.299/gallon. $884.48.
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Files changed out. 2026 accounting set up and awaiting entries . Desk put into neatness, and the dining room table, too. Remade the bed. Dishwasher doing its thing.

I am a tired woman, and I have a glass of wine in hand.

I either will or will not stay up to usher the old year out. I’m hoping that the Accounting Department sends us something akin to Mad Delm Theonna for 2026, because the Gods They know, we’re gonna need that kind of energy on our side.

Tomorrow, as has been my habit for many New Year Days, I intend to begin as I mean to go on. Which means I will be writing.

Possibly I will watch a movie, tomorrow. I had thought I would do that this evening, but, yeah, I’m too tired to be patient with a movie.

Everybody stay safe; if you’re partying, be careful. Oh, hell, be careful even if you aren’t partying.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Wrappin’ up

What Went Before: Tuesday

Total WIP +/-118,724. The cats were a great help.

I? Had forgotten there’s a Zoom business meeting this afternoon at 2, so I’d better get my chores done and my lunch et.

The driveway, as predicted is a sheet of ice. I’ve figured out that all I actually have to do is get inside the garage, so I can get in the car. I can stop on my way out (in the car) to needlework, to collect the mail, which is small snowy tramp. It’ll work. Ghod, I hate ice.

I did not try to take the trash or the recycling to the curb this morning, ref “ice” above. Maybe next week.

How’s everybody doing at midday on Tuesday?
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So, that was exciting. I was getting ready to leave for needlework and!

The garage door was frozen shut. By luck, I had been heating water for tea, and went out and poured the kettle along the inside the door and it opened. Sadly, I did not think of this before I had called my excellent plowguy to see if he had any ideas, and disturbed his evening, but I think I did catch him before he got on his way to my place with rock salt.

I went to needlework, and came back. The car is in the garage, but I don’t dare close the door because I have a PT appointment at 7:45 tomorrow morning.

This is why I hate ice. In addition to the whole sliding situation.

The coon cats have had happy hour and I have poured a glass of wine.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll check in tomorrow.
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Wednesday, sunny and cold.

Back from my early PT appointment, from which I have gained a lot more homework, which I’m supposed to do many times a day. I’m going to have to put a lot of thought into how I’m going to accomplish all this and, yanno, write, read, play, with the cats and all those other extraneous things I do. I obviously don’t want to be crippled with back pain, but I’m thinking there’s a middle ground here, and I need to find it.

After PT, I treated myself to breakfast at Governor’s where, I kid you not, one waitress was handling the whole room, and busing too, until somebody else came on shift. It wasn’t over-crowded, but it was busy enough, and this is where it pays to be a long-term employee in a business that thrives on regulars. She knew just about everybody, we all knew her, nobody was in a hurry or on their way to a Big Freakin’ Meetin’ or anything — and between us, we made it work.

I stopped by the Post Office, collected the mail, stopped by the crosstown Hannaford, which I’m going to have to visit more often, as they seem to have more of what I’m wanting than the one round the corner, and came home to get one of the bags of Emergency Ice Melt Steve had stashed in the back of the garage onto the sled. I opened it with my trusty shovel, then we all half-skated out to scatter melt-crystals over the driveway.

. . . I’m getting down to the bottom of things that Steve stashed away against need, which is a somewhat melancholy realization, along with the other melancholy realization that I’m going to have to be advertent regarding these things.

Ice melt disposed, I came inside, made myself a cup of hot chocolate and checked on the cats — who are all in Steve’s office, because That’s What We Do in the morning.

Excellent cats.

Today, is making 2026 files, which I didn’t have the oomph to do earlier, and setting up next year’s accounting. I have leftovers for lunch, and a good book to read when I’m done my chores.

How’s Wednesday at your place?

Wednesday morning cat census:

Rain, rain go away; come again in May

The Long Back Yard

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It’s being a rather difficult day. Went to bed late and unhappy; woke up about 4:30, still unhappy, whereupon the Coon Cats leapt into action — or at least, onto the bed. In less time than it takes to tell it, I had a cat on top of me, a cat to the right of me, and yes! a cat to the left of me. These guys know their job; I went right back to sleep, and didn’t wake until after 8.

It was very nice to sleep and wake up rested, but it has kinda thrown the whole day sideways.

I’ve done a little bit of writing, and will maybe do some more, later, if I don’t just decide to make a blanket fort and read. I did manage to call Dead River to find out when my next oil delivery is, because we’re coming up on another multi-day interruption in the Usual, and my oil tank is down to less than a quarter. It’s a big tank, but I don’t want to test exactly how big. The good news is that my next delivery is!

Tomorrow.

It’s looking some miserable out there in the Real World. There’s water pooled on my driveway, which will this evening become an ice rink, and it would just be better all around, if, once Winter was Declared, we just stuck to snow as our default precipitation.

Well.

I’ve done some writing, one round of PT homework, more or less decided what lunch will be, though I still need to turn on the oven. Still need to do my duty to the cats, which I guess I’ll do while the oven’s warming.

And then? We’ll see. Though honestly, that blanket fort is looking dern good.

How’s everybody doing today?

The cats agree with the blanket fort idea:

Liaden Read Along

For those interested in the Liaden read-along, commentary on the first two chapters is now live, here.

The intro page is here

Please accept this in the spirit of a first attempt, while we work together toward a format that’s fun for everybody involved.

To be perfectly honest, I’m reading a lot faster than this and I want to read at my usual rate, as if (as close to “as if” as it’s possible for me to be) I’m reading a book for enjoyment. I’m making some notes, but not very detailed ones. So! the chapter-by-chapter approach may not work for me, which ultimately means that it won’t work for you.

I would therefore appreciate input on what would be most fun for participants who are not me.

Thanks for your help — and enjoy!