life after the apocalypse – Page 15

Thursday’s child has far to go

Thursday. Grey and cold. Apparently the snow risked a speeding ticket to get to us by noon, instead of four, as previously predicted.

Breakfast was rice cakes, cream cheese, grapes, tea. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will likely come down to tuna melt, because — snow. Also, lazy.

Tali is not AT ALL convinced that I should sing “Me and Julio” along with the radio. Let’s hope they don’t play “Werewolves of London” anytime soon.

Last night I broke a cat food dish — of course one of four that “matched.” The cats don’t care and, sometime when it’s not set to snow a blizzard, I’ll be dropping by the Dollar Store, or Goodwill to pick up replacements, but I hate to break things.

We’ve had a busy few days in Maine, and not in a good way. On Monday, police answered a call of domestic violence, which resulted in a many hours armed standoff. The proximate cause of this situation, Steven Righini, had posted messages ranting against abortion, Democrats, and other Liberal Evils. His hostages were his SO and their baby. Mr. Righini was eventually shot and killed by officers, but not before he had shot and wounded Officer Johnathan Russell and killed his K9 partner, Preacher.

On Tuesday, a guy walked into our local Wal*Mart and stabbed himself in the neck. And, yesterday, another person, not yet apprehended, went into the food court at the South Portland Mall and killed someone.

It would be nice if Karma and the Rule of Three could expedite the paperwork, is all I’m saying.

Ashley’s due to arrive in about an hour to clean. I will be retiring to Steve’s office, as I do, which means it will be open for cat business for the first time since Monday.

I have a big stack of Who Knows What to sort through. This afternoon, I intend to write.

And that’s the news at the start of the day.

How’s your day starting out?

This morning’s cat census. I note that Rook is slightly confused. When I walked into the bedroom, he and Tali were on the bed. Rook was showing his belly and hissing at the same time.

All’s well that ends well, feline edition

Well. Where to start?

Ah. Thank you to everyone who read and kindly donated to “Core Values.”

If you haven’t read the story yet, here’s your link to the introduction, which itself includes a link to the story. You may read the story for free. Those who wish may also donate, to the story, to the site, to the Coon Cat Food Bank, or to the author. A donation is not required to read the story.

Now we can get to the Important Topic of Tali.

Tali found the Guest Parlor too small. Because I have a Very Weird House, I was able, after yesterday’s breakfast, to close off the hallway in which the Guest Parlor is located, closing the door to Steve’s office at one end, and the rest of the house, at the other end. This gave Tali the Guest Parlor, a short hallway, a cul de sac which is glorified as the Laundry Room, and a big window overlooking the Long Back Yard. I also put Trooper in with her, thinking he could share some more pearls of feline wisdom.

This is what that looked like, when I peered in a couple hours later.

After lunch, Trooper and I traded places. I took my laptop back to the laundry room, and sat in the chair I’d moved in from Steve’s office, and finished inputting corrections to “Core Values.” Tali several times leapt into my lap — she gives epic head bumps — and tried her paw at editing the story.

Firefly was still being hissy, and Rook was taking his cue from her, so I visited Tali once or twice on the evening, but my intention was to leave her in Steve’s hallway until at least Thursday afternoon (I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and Ashley is coming tomorrow morning to do the cleaning).

At 5am this morning, Trooper opened the door to Steve’s hallway, and let Tali out.

I got up, turned on all the lights, and prepared myself to run interference (Tali does not like to be picked up. She will jump in my lap, but she Does. Not. Want. me to pick her up, and I had … reservations about allowing a cat who will not allow me to pick her up roaming the house.). Trooper, however, had appointed himself Tour Guide. He took Tali downstairs, where the Accommodations are (she has a litter pan in the Guest Parlor, but apparently it’s not the best arrangement), he showed her the food station and the cat fountain. He walked her right past Firefly, who was hissing, and Rook, who was likewise.

Since he had it in paw, I got dressed and put the kettle on for tea.

Tali eventually went back to her hallway. I followed her in, closed the door, and sat down. She jumped into my lap, and we had a cuddle while chatting out her first impressions.

I let her out again when I got back from my Annual Wellness appointment (spoiler: I’m healthy).

I must say Tali’s being very smart about integrating herself. She spent some time in the bedroom, and has explored the rest of the rooms once or twice, entirely unfazed by hissing sillies. She offers no aggression, nor does she hiss back; it’s merely nothing to do with her, what those cats are carrying on about.

Occasionally, she goes back to her hallway for a breather.

And that’s where we are right now. Trooper, Firefly, and Rook are in my office with me, and Tali is exploring the living room.

The Big Cat Hunt Concludes

So, yesterday, which was Sunday in the Northeast portion of the East Coast of the US, I meandered down to Portsmouth, stopping at Pine Point, Camp Ellis, and thence to Old Orchard Beach, for a leisurely lunch at Lazy Days before getting back on the road to Portsmouth and the Motel 6, there to await the arrival of the Cat Farm’s newest director, at +/- 2am Monday. All very pleasant, except the part where I dropped my phone and cracked the screen — a personal first.

Snow was predicted. I mean, let’s be realistic — it’s February in Maine/New Hampshire. Of course snow is in the forecast. However, I had determined that I could fit myself in-between the snow events. For instance, it was to snow, but lightly, on Sunday night, stopping around 7am. I didn’t have to give up my room until 11, by which time it was not unreasonable to suppose that the roads would be clear to drive. I would therefore be back home hours before the next called event, on Monday evening.

I had not bethought myself of the impact of the Sunday night snow on Tali and her escort, driving up from Allentown, PA.

Around 9:30pm on Sunday, I received a text from the escort, telling me that she had pulled off the road because of heavy snow, and reports of several wrecks ahead of her on the interstate.

This was smart and safe. All hail, the escort! And, really, I wasn’t going anywhere until the next day at 11am.

So, as it turned out, I took delivery of Tali at +/-9:30am. The roads were clear, and I was under Stern Orders not to let Tali out of the carrier, so we did the swap in the parking lot, and I headed up a largely deserted I-95 to Maine.

We pulled into the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory around 12:30; I got Tali set up in the Guest Parlor, and we chatted a bit. She jumped onto my lap of her own volition and stayed for about 35 seconds. She enthusiastically agreed to be brushed with the slicker brush — which she really needed (no blame; no shame — I’d’ve been losing my hair after the trip she had, which had essentially doubled).

She’s settling in nicely. She doesn’t like to be picked up — or, at least, she doesn’t like to be picked up yet — but she’s purring non-stop, and giving me whole-body bumps whenever I’m in range. She does seem — very dainty for a coon cat — and photos don’t do justice to her fur, which is pale orange swirled with white. Her home cattery was calling her “pink,” but I think that’s inaccurate. “Creamsicle” is closer to the look, for them as don’t want to have to spit out the whole “Red Silver Classic Tabby/White” that’s on her TICA registration.

Trooper followed me into the Guest Parlor, so Tali got to meet him briefly. He spoke to her at some length. She didn’t answer, but it seemed that he had managed to calm her somewhat.

Tali is now resting in the Guest Parlor; I’m catching up on various this and thats, and realizing that tomorrow is going to be a Run Around Town sort of day, so it’s a good thing I ordered in Chinese today, and have leftovers.

And that’s the epic. All’s well that ends well, and like that.

Pictures:

The Luck

What went before: Yesterday was a sandwich: Early good news, extremely frustrating events until Trooper’s vet appointment, which was neutral (awaiting blood work), then finishing on a high note, when I received notice that Talizea was on the move and I was on for an interception in Portsmouth.

Onward!

Saturday. Snowed overnight; looks to be 2-ish inches on the front steps.

Breakfast was peanut butter and raspberry jelly on a whole wheat English Muffin. Lunch will be — I think there’s still some bean loaf left.

Those of you who’ve been around awhile know that writers are told to Write What You Know. So, when when Steve and I tell you about Korval’s Luck, which every clan member rightly looks upon with wariness and trepidation, believe that we were are speaking from experience*.

Witness this morning, when I opened the cabinet under the bathroom sink to get zippered bag to hold things like my toothbrush and toothpaste into for my upcoming overnight — and discovered that the pipe under the sink was leaking, and had apparently been doing so for some time. But! There was an open-mouthed plastic bag positioned by chance directly under the leak and it was full of water. It would have surely overflowed today, if I hadn’t looked in.

So, now the contents of the undersink are strewn about the bathroom floor. There are some casualties, but nothing irrecoverable. The plumber of course is closed today. OTOH, I have a second bathroom, which I suppose I’ll be sharing with Tali until we can get somebody on the case, after we get home.

This situation is so on-brand that I started to laugh when I found that plastic bag full of water.

So, today’s to-do! Change out the cat fountain, do one’s duty the cats, deal with the stuff that’s strewn, convert the second bathroom to Talizea’s Parlor, pack for a very peculiar overnight away, correspondence. I hope for time to write even 500 words, which looked possible before the under-sink surprise. Now — we’ll see.

I’m told that Tali is bringing All Her Stuff. I’m guessing that means her posters, too, which — there’s not very much room in the second bath to hang stuff. Maybe we can stick them to the mirrors.

Still reading Code Yellow in Gretna Green. Oh. Note to self: Make sure you have the next one on the Kindle before you leave.

That’s it.

So, tell me — what kind of luck do you have?

_________
*Chinese zodiac-wise, Steve was a metal tiger and I am a water dragon, both considered “lucky” signs.

Book planning and Big Cat update

What went before: Yesterday, as I was staring out the window, my brain informed me that it wanted to write an epistolary Liaden novel. I pointed out that we couldn’t do that, because we were going back to Catalinc Station and the Action! folks, who — while they can write letters — really prefer not to.

Recommencing with the staring out the window, it — finally, some will say — dawned on me that while Diviner’s Bow and Book the Next are — ahem — “unrelated” novels, there’s a character who is leaving the traders and headed for the Station. And that this character not only knows All The Players — he corresponds with them. And the Action folk do write back to him.

I don’t usually like to think about Structure this early in a project (which may be why my first drafts always end up with everything happening on Tuesday afternoon), and I can’t in fairness to the action players have a book that is only letters, but I can use the letters to frame and illuminate the action.

And that? Sounds like fun, which none of the other things I’ve been slinging at the wall, looking for a conceit that will bear a novel, have done.

Also, the letter structure may give me room to do A Thing I wanted to do and shelved, because I couldn’t figure out how to make it fit into a novel set on the Station.

All that being said, I resolved to Sleep On It, and if it seemed good in the morning, I’d go forward.

Going forward!

Friday. Grey and chilly. ‘beans are calling for a high of 36F/2C, following yesterday’s deep freeze.

Breakfast was leftover fried rice. I don’t have one clue what lunch will be.

Today’s Big Ticket To-Do List item is Trooper’s vet appointment. He’s been … off … with many many complaints, so either I’m providing really subpar service or something’s up. I worry; he’s 15, and he’s outlived both his childhood sweetheart, and their daughter.

Speaking of cats. Negotiations have taken a major step forward. I’m awaiting a call from the escort, and it could — could! — be that the new director will be with us on Monday. This will require some finagling in and around the Greater Portsmouth NH Megalopolis, and thus we await that call from the escort, with deets.

The Hybrid Epistolary Novel still sounds good to the me, so! Next step is to open a file and start writing.

That’s all I’ve got; hours spent staring out the window don’t make for a riveting narrative.

What’s your riveting narrative for the day?

Below, a “memory” offered up by the photo app on the phone. Sprite and Steve, sharing a moment.

I lay it out like they do in magazines

What went before: Ended yesterday on a low note. I blame the grocery store.

What went before, The Long edition: 2024 was a Personal Worst. In February, I lost my best friend, my coauthor, and my spouse. In July, I lost my heart-cat, and maybe, or maybe not, had a stroke. In October, I turned in a book, and then did line edits, copy edits and galleys in a month. I’m still trying to figure out how I wrote a book last year.

Onward!

Thursday. Bright and bitter cold. The weatherbeans theorize that the high temp on the day will be 15F/-9C. I’ll be staying in.

Breakfast was cottage cheese, toast, and strawberries. As pictured elsewhere, Rook got in my lap and pinned me down, so I finished my first mug of tea and played Spelling Bee to Solid.

Second mug of tea is with me here at the desk. Lunch will be leftover bean loaf, and, err, veggies.

The plowguy came by yesterday evening. I was surprised, but pleased. Much later, UPS arrived bearing a Large Carton. A kind friend had sent two heated throws for the use of the cats and myself. They were frozen stiff from their all-day tour of Central Maine, so I put them in the laundry room to thaw. They are now, as per instructions, being washed before use.

I have some 1099s of various flavors to log; I’m still missing 5, which seems unlikely, until I remember that I need a total of 20.

<serious discussion>I would like to take this opportunity while we’ll all together at the table sipping our beverages and preparing for what’s left of our day, to assert that I am not a slacker.

I know that there are things people want me to do that would “Only take X” and questions that people may believe I am ill-naturedly refusing to answer. I fear that those things lie with you, and not with me.

As I discussed in this space (note: this would be my Facebook Wall) only a week or so ago — I need to be very careful to protect my health — physical and mental. Steve used to do this for me — part of the way he did it was by answering, or explaining why he wasn’t going to/couldn’t answer, questions and expressed desires. I will allow that I am in no way as elegant, or as facile, as Steve was in these matters.

So, I’m asking you to please think before you tell me that This Thing would “Only Take X” or demand that I answer a question that you actually know the answer to, or can easily find the answer to. I am particularly vulnerable to people demanding that I Solve This Problem, and I have had to become very mindful of the fact that I’m not responsible for solving the problems of nations.

Now, you might be saying to yourself at this point that I’ve got a helluva lot of nerve asking you not to ask me things, when I ask for help pretty regularly.

In my mind, asking for help is not a demand; it’s a request, as in “Hey, if you have the time/inclination/skills could you–?” (Or, “Check this font; is it san serif?”) That’s what people do. I help when I can; so do you — I know you do because you help me. We’re all better when we help each other. And we’re all better when we accept help, when we need it.

All I’m doing is asking us all to be a little mindful. I’ll do my best; and I know you’ll do yours.</serious discussion>

I’m going to split the day between the domain situations, and staring into space. I will note here that “staring into space” = working, for those coming in late.

What’re you doing today?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Jason Kinney, “Neutra Face: An Ode On a Typeface”

The Writer at Work

What went before: Finished reading “Shout of Honor,” and put it to marinate.

A Question Asked; A Question Answered: The “boys in the basement” (sometimes known as “the back room”) are the committee of rowdies that passes for my muse. They drink a lot of beer, eat a lot of pretzels, watch re-runs of Time Tunnel and I Dream of Jeannie on Youtube, and occasionally kick an idea upstairs where I can find it. Astonishingly often, they’re good ideas. I do occasionally have to cut off their beer to get them to focus, but compared to what some of my colleagues have to do to get their muses to focus, that’s minor.

Another Question Asked, and Answered: Phil Jurus was a silversmith down in Maryland. Steve and I bought our wedding rings from Phil, and probably more silver than we could afford at the time. He created the Runes of Roke Knoll. Our wedding rings are engraved with Mette, the Rune for Courage (Sharon) and Illum, the Rune for Wisdom (Steve).

Onward!

Wednesday. Snowing and cold.

Breakfast was blueberry muffin and cottage cheese. Still drinking my first mug of tea. Lunch will be, um. Oh! Potstickers and fried rice. Sounds good, and I can do that out of stores.

Well, I miscalculated. I thought there’d be a dusting of snow on the overnight and I’d just hang in ’til 10 or so and then go to the grocery store. I am not going to the grocery store today. Looking at the list, there’s nothing I can’t get by without for another day, so tomorrow’s adventures will include the grocery store.

I’m still monkeying around with the Pair accounts Steve left. Having finally gotten inside Pair — there’s not even a directory for stevemillerwrites, so that makes that decision easy. However! There are two other domains that I do need to keep: liadenuniverseCOM/NET, even though they’re not manifesting on the internet. So, some of today will be once again making the part of my brain that used to know this stuff, err, work. Ow.

I also need to do some laundry, mostly because I ran through all of my Extra Special Warm Socks, and man, I’m gonna be wanting those.

(I made the mistake of reading a News Summary. Oh. My. Ghod.)

Back to focusing on the stuff I can do something about. I believe I have a starting point and a conceit for the next book. It is not at all what I thought I’d be doing, but ain’t that always the way.

I may take a little chunk of time to go through my jewelry box and look for pieces that may go into a memory necklace, as a reward for bending my brain into pretzels.

In reading matters, I last night finished Seeing Red in Gretna Green and have moved on to Code Yellow in Gretna Green. I’ve been reading Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent over lunch, and it’s been an agreeable companion. Also, yesterday, I got sidetracked into re-reading “Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones,” by Samuel R. Delaney. It’s been a decade or so.

So, it’s still snowing. And I need another mug of tea.

What are you focusing on, today?

How it started, and how it’s going. Two pictures of Rook, aka Rookie, Lord High Rookifur, Fool of a Rook, Bananabread… The one on the left is from July 2024; the one on the right was taken this morning.

Time seen as a necklace of precious stones

What went before: Yesterday, I read all the Commander Vepal sections of The Gathering Edge (how is it possible that The Gathering Edge was published in 2017?) — this because of a Notion sent up from the guys in the basement. I also did a lot of Real Life This and That, because Real Life does have to be tended to, sometimes.

Shameless Self-Promotion: The audio edition of Sea Wrack and Changewind, by Sharon Lee, being all of the Archers Beach stories in one volume, is now on sale at Tantor Media. Narrated by Alex Picard. Here’s your link.

Tuesday. Cloudy; it was snowing a little when I took the trash and recycling to the curb. Seems to not be snowing at the moment.

Breakfast was blueberry skyr and tea. Lunch will be beanloaf in mushroom sauce, and a fancy frozen veggie to be named later.

Today’s to-do is reading “Shout of Honor,” performing one’s duty to the cats, and taking a smol walk. Depending on how lively the guys in the basement are feeling, I may spend some time staring at nothing. (Note to Self: restart beer deliveries to the guys in the basement.)

Sartorially speaking, I’m wearing the usual Wrangler carpenter jeans with the pointy-thing pocket repurposed to hold my phone; Steve’s flannel-lined denim shirt (which is magical, I’m sad because (1) mine all wore out long ago, and (2) this style has gone the way of the so-called “shirt jac,” which is still warm, but not as nice), and one of Steve’s necklaces (another Phil Jurus rune: Edram, the rune of the artist).

I was thinking yesterday (when my necklace was the astronomically correct silver moon that Steve gave me for my 60th birthday), that I have a lot of necklaces in my care — some of course more Important than others — and I got to wondering if I could have them made into a memory necklace — like a charm bracelet, but a necklace.

I also have a lot of earrings, because my ears used to be pierced. And I’m wondering if it’s worth my time to have my ears pierced again, or what on earth I’m going to do with All Those Earrings, some of which, again, are more precious than others.

Moving on to the Big Cat Hunt — we await word from the escort service as to date and time. Join me in Watching the Skies.

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

What’s your news?

Today’s blog title is brought to you by Samuel R. Delaney, “Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones”

Scenes from a late-waking morning:

Cat Dancing

What went before: Though the poolish survived, the bread . . . was not perfect. The dough stayed sticky, rather than firming up, and trying to slash it before putting it in the oven was an exercise in comedy. The loaves came out of the oven looking like two very large potatoes. The bread does taste good, though the crust is too chewy, and I say this as someone who likes bread that fights back. So! A learning experience. I’ll be trying again.

Onward!

Monday. Cloudy and 20F/-6C, heading for the tropical high temp of 36F/2C. <fe>I may have to open the windows.</fe>

Ate the second banana — which was soft and sweet. First cup of tea brewing. Need to seek out the rest of breakfast, which was! A blueberry muffin and cottage cheese. I have no idea what’s for lunch.

Today is straightening up the house, which I never got round to the other day, getting some vacuuming done, taking care of computer domains — which I also let slide — and sitting in a chair with a pad of paper and a pen, staring at nothing.

Full day, right there.

How’s Monday treating everybody so far?

Below, an action shot from last night’s Cat Dancer tournament.

In Which the Poolish Survives the Night

What went before: I did finish “Core Values” last night — go, me!

I have a bunch of these little so-called Spot thermometers from ThermoWorks, and I put them in various places, trying to find the warmest place to overnight the poolish. It turns out that the dining room microwave is by far the warmest spot.

Onward.

Sunday. Still dim, but I can see an orange crack in the sky behind the trees.

Got up early to check the poolish, which — Against All Odds — not only survived the night, but was bubbly and stinky, and Just What the Baker Wanted.

Dough is in for the first rise. I’m drinking my first cup of tea and should probably turn my thoughts toward breakfast.

For those following along at home, it turns out that the Heritage Microwave in the dining room is the warmest spot in the kitchen-and-kitchen-adjacent rooms, by a good 2 degrees, so that’s where the poolish overnighted, to what success we have seen.

Aside the baking of bread, today is Tax Paperwork Review, and filing, because I let it stack up again, banking, and other mundane details — and I’ve got to finally deal with the whole stevemillerwrites thing, which I’m still inclined to let go.

I see that we’re starting to play Twenty Questions regarding the new director. I’m not just being playful; I don’t want to jinx anything. Believe me, I’m just as excited as you are. We can all practice Being Patient together.

So, that’s what’s exciting at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory, this early Sunday morning.

Who else is having an exciting morning?