Tag: life after the apocalypse

Eh, what is UP, Doc?

“Coyote vs Acme” was brilliant, up to and including the choice to use the Clash’s cover of “I fought the law.” If you can grab a couple hours to go see it, do that. I was particularly pleased to be reminded of the fact that Wile E. Coyote is not only obsessed, but that he is an inventor of no small scope.

I was one of ten people in the theater for the 4:30 showing. The crowd before me consisted of . . . one.

Honest to ghu, Warner Brothers, why did you select this one to be suppressed? Oh. Wait. “Subsidiary of Acme Corporation.”

Sadly, on the way from the arts center to my car, I (felt I) had to cut through Main Street Provisions in order to shake the gentleman following me. Once in my car, I was importuned by a person with a sad tale of homelessness and hunger, which, if true, was worthy of my donation to the common weal, and, if false, said donation was a reasonable reward for a part well-realized.

Which reminds me that, if I’m going to be downtown in the evenings as a regular thing, I really do need to buy some general-issue gift cards to pay my toll with.

It really is a brilliant movie, though. Trust me.

Just remember: There are a limited number of signs.

Just for fun:  The Clash, “I Fought the Law“

Thursday pre-movie

Proof of life photos here

Taking a smol break to rest my brain, and do PT homework.

So, I have a ticket to see “Frozen” (the play) at the Waterville Opera House in November. Still waffling on the Tommy Dorsey Christmas concert.

I think I have A Plan for being able to attend tomorrow afternoon’s block party (read park) downtown.

The play I saw on Sunday was called “Unabashedly” which was appearing for the first time anywhere, ever, in Waterville, Maine. Someone asked if I had liked the play, and! I’m not sure? I was confused at first when we’re introduced to two men who are living together, and for most of the play I thought they were a couple. This was kind of a good thing because it looked like the play was going in the direction of one of those two men — Dave, coincidentally an alcoholic, sober for 6 months — falling in love with a newly hired (female) coworker, and I was interested in if we were going to be talking about one of the established couple being bi and how the three of them were going to resolve their feelings. Turns out that the two guys weren’t gay, only friends.

The play was being sold on the “relatable characters.” Having once been vilified over a matter of days regarding my lack of empathy for Thomas Covenant, I admit freely that I know nothing about which characters are “relatable,” “true,” or “realistic.” I was, personally, annoyed by the characters in the play. Yes, all of them. But that is, I hasten to assure everyone, Just Me.

I also know nothing about plays, which often seem to me to be leaving most of the story out. So speaks the novelist.

That said, I thought this one was a bit thin, even by the rules of its own genre. About three-quarters through the first act, I actually thought I was just going to leave, though I did decide stay to the end, and I left feeling good. I felt good because the play had delivered a Happy Ending, which is always satisfying, even when the Happy Ending is a cliche, and you could see it coming a mile away, after you got unconfused about the relationship of the two initial characters.

So — more than you wanted to know about did I like the play.

I am looking forward to seeing “Coyote v Acme” this afternoon, but before that!

I need to do some more work.

What are you looking forward to, today?

Ain’t I rough enough?

What on earth has the woman been doing?

Puttering, mostly. A little writing on an Extremely Side Project, reading, embroidering, playing with cats, in particular helping Firefly to celebrate her sixth birthday.

I saw a play on Sunday, went to physical therapy today, got up at 11:30 Sunday night to wander through the house, trying to find the random beeping which was Discovered to Be! the CO2 monitor in the Goblin Room, which, according to the notation on its side, had been installed in April 2014, and had therefore run its 10 years through, and more, so I couldn’t even be mad at it. I got it down and silenced without recourse to a hammer. Next day, I found the “extra” CO2/smoke alarm and installed it, so I’m not only covered for the next 10 years, but Quite Impressed with my skills as a handyperson.

I printed out the WIP to date and have been reading through it, because I suspect I’ve got something in the wrong place, and I’d better catch it now before I go half a book in the wrong direction.

In an astonishing reversal, something I ordered on August 22 decided, after cooling its heels in New Jersey for a few days, to go back to Texas, instead.

The cats are well, though Rook did me the Very Great Favor of waking me at 5 o’clock this morning. But that meant I got to read more pages than I would otherwise have done before I had to leave for PT.

I think that this time unplugged has been, how is it said? — “good for me?” — and I’m going to make an effort to limit the time I spend wandering through social media, as I’ve already limited my wandering through the news sites.

I have a ticket to view “Coyote v Acme,” tomorrow afternoon. Waterville is hosting a ‘block party’ on Friday afternoon/evening, which looks like it might be fun, stipulating there’s a parking space to be had any closer than Fairfield.

And that? Is my news.

What’s yours?

Today’s blog post brought to you by The Rolling Stones, “Beast of Burden”  — for no other reason that it’s one of my Stay In the Car and Sing Along Until It’s Done songs.

Thursday beginning, Wednesday wrap-up

Thursday. Clouds are silvery–in color and apparent texture. The ‘beans are calling for rain showers, but I think they’re just teasing.

Slept late, still groggy, don’ wanna eat. Actual coffee in the mug at my right hand.

I called Chewy last night to apprise them of the fact that (despite what FedEx was showing on their page) their package had been delivered, and detail the manner of its arrival. I am pleased to now be able to claim my merit badge for having made a customer service rep laugh so hard he couldn’t speak. He promised that Chewy would be “working with FedEx.”

I did see some people suggesting that I should allow Chewy to reside in the belief that the package was not delivered so that a second would be dispatched. While another box of “dog food” would never go amiss, I want somebody that FedEx hopefully cares about listening to explain why this is subpar and make them fix it. And, yanno? I can afford cat litter this month.

Someone in comments also suggested that Howard may have gone to the trouble to knock over a FedEx truck in order to determine if I am an old woman living by herself. This was suggested in a Spirit Of Love, and in the context of telling me to look to my security. For those who are moved by a similar spirit, I share my answer so that you may have the benefit of the reality of living in a small Maine city:
You have to understand that Steve knew everybody, and that is an Extremely Tiny exaggeration. Most of the people Steve knew also either knew that he often traveled with a goblin at his elbow, or had heard him talk about “Sharon.” Then, when Steve died, the local newspaper kindly did a front page article (half-page above the fold, for any old newspaper folks among us) on his life (including the fact that his wife/co-author remained in the family home), and then, the Maine Senate decided that it would be cool to award him a Posthumously Awesome Maine Person Award, and that was immortalized in the Register and also, I believe, in the capital newspaper. So, no secrets here.

I lock doors and have cameras and also — the neighbors know I live here alone.

And all that said — who’s partying today?

One more thing . . .

So, a guy just rang the bell.

I didn’t recognize him, but he was looking kind of like he was lost, so I opened the door and asked if I could help him.

“Is this the Miller residence?”

“No,” I said.

He looked even more confused, looked around and said, “Where would that be, because I’ve got a package from — I dunno, dog food?”

And I said, “Oh. Yes, you have the right place.”

“Good,” he said, and fetched a much battered Chewy box out of the boot of his car and carried it inside for me.

I said, “The FedEx truck was in my driveway earlier today and left without leaving a package.”

And Howard — my benefactor’s name is Howard — said, “Well, I’ll tell you. That kid was in my driveway, an’ he was in no good mood. Pulled out in a hurry and that box fell right outta the door. I figured, y’know, dog food; the dogs’ll be wantin’ that, and the address was right there, so I brought it along.”

I thanked him profusely and he said he was just glad he could help me out.

So, that mystery solved.
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Also!  Rookie’s vet has texted that Rookie is cured of his temporary inconvenience, and I hope I’m not alone in saying, “Let’s not do that again.”

. . . OK — two things.

Everybody have a good evening. I’ll check in tomorrow.

“Anything” is just a . . . suggestion

So, that’s 1,080ish new words this morning, for a WIP total of 52,570ish.

I may — that’s may — have figured out how to write two books at once, so I’ll be setting up the framework this afternoon, after I pay my tithe to the house.
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So, the cats are expecting a Chewy order, which will arrive via FedEx. While I was paying my tithe to the house, I happened to look out the window, and there was a FedEx truck in my driveway, which stayed there for, oh, four minutes? I went to another part of the house to get something, came back, and the truck was gone.

Well, I said, said I, noticing the lack of heavy box on the steps. I guess it’s in the (open) garage.

Only it wasn’t. That’s right! In a new Personal Best, FedEx not only failed to follow the long-filed instruction to leave packages in the garage, but! Failed to unload a package at all.

I? am actually Impressed.

I’ve been plodding along through the bookclub book — it’s interesting, but not a page-turner — and I just reached the part where Our Hero had realized that the actions he takes as an Official (in this case a high-level law enforcement admin) Actually Impacts people in addition to those who have fallen under his jurisdiction, and — this is the important part — that he, as a representative of The System, needed to do better. I salute Our Hero. Really, I do. And I wish that more people in positions of influence were not only able to have that insight, but gather the courage to act on it.

In other news, I think I have the method figured out for working on two writing projects at the same time. I think I’m going to be helped by the fact that the two projects are completely dissimilar. I guess We’ll See.

Taking a break now to do my duty to the cats and PT homework. Then! To the couch with me, notebook and pens in hand.
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. . . Dolly Parton and Tim Curry?

And if you lie, you will lose it

This morning’s cat census here

Tuesday. Sunny and already warm. Trash and recycling at the curb patiently awaiting the advent of the trash truck.

Back with Jethri today and writing the rest of a sticky scene. It still needs work, but, hey! First Draft, amirite? The WIP now stands at 51,490ish total words. Next scene, tomorrow, already sketched in on the pad, and ought to be more fun.  For writer values of “fun.”

I have, I think, figured out what to do with the character from Chicago, and her friends, too. Now, all I have to do is find time and energy to do it. I know — some of us wish we had such problems.

This morning, I purchased a ticket to view Coyote vs ACME on Thursday, September 3, which makes next week Media Rich, as I’m also seeing a play on Sunday.

Social butterfly, ayuh.

Crafts, this evening, and before that I have chores, correspondence, and lunch to cope with.

So! What’s on your schedule today?
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So. . .somebody just stole my recycling.

I mean, not the mixed recycling that is in the covered wheeled bin, but the broken down cardboard boxes that were in the open recycling box. I s’pose somebody needed cardboard?

I wouldn’t — well, I don’t — care, particularly, except that I’m in a very wobbly state where I’m kind of second- and third-guessing everything, and when I looked out the window, and saw the bin was empty, while the rest of the trash was still where I’d put it, and the wheeled bin was still upright and had its lid down — I thought that maybe I’d been inattentive enough to have put out an empty bin. Which is nonsense; getting that bin out is non-trivial, and I clearly remembered that there had been cardboard in the damned thing when I dragged it out to the curb earlier.

Sigh.

Speaking of which, I just read some advice in an advice book on how to remember if you’ve done one of those things that you’ve been doing daily for decades, today, and the advice was to PAY ATTENTION.  Which, while reasonable, isn’t, oh, I dunno, helpful.

Anyhow — off to do my chores.

Today’s blog post title courtesy of Eric Clapton, “It’s in the Way That You Use It”

 

Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty

Finishing up on Monday:

And that’s 2,323 total new words outta the kid from Chicago, who has finally run out of steam. I’ll tuck it away for a couple days, if nothing else explosive happens. Jethri is getting a day off, and I? want a nap.

Yeah, that’s gonna happen.
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Well. Rookie suggested Guided Napping on the couch, and I took him up on it.

He’s really been working on his technique. Got a solid 45 minutes and feel human again. For values of “human” that include widowed writers beset by importunate characters.

I’ve got a few chores to do, but basically, I do believe I’m done for the day. I’ll read a few chapters of the bookclub book before it’s time to serve up Happy Hour.

Everybody have a good rest of the day. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Just an urchin livin’ under the street

So, that wasn’t the morning I had planned.

Alert readers will perhaps recall that yesterday a character wandered into my head, claiming to be from Chicago.  I said something along the lines of, “That’s nice, dear,” and went about my legitimate business, which is, as alert readers will also recall, The Further Adventures of Jethri Gobelyn ven’Deelin.

This morning as I was taking my shower and singing along with the radio, here comes the character again, and she not only brought her Sensei with her, but a bubbling threat of backstory and forward story, too.

Which is, of course, Just What I Need, standing as I am at the 50,000-word mark of a contracted-for space opera.

But!  The character was noisy.  The character was taking on weight.  So I got out of the shower, pulled on some clothes, shoved my wet hair back behind my ears and went to Steve’s office, passing neither Go nor the teapot.

I sat down, turned on the computer, opened a file and said, “OK, Kid.  You got an hour.  What’s on your mind?”

One thousand two hundred eighty-nine words and 65 minutes later, I hit a stopping point, or the kid ran of out breath — however you like it — and I was able to grab some breakfast (cottage cheese with apple butter, and a toasted slice of the bread I made yesterday, with cow butter).

I am now a jazzed-up mess, second cup of tea to hand, and wondering if I’m going to get back with the kid for another round, if I ought to check in with Jethri, or just throw in the towel and dance naked down Rte 104.

And how’s your morning going?

Portrait of the author humoring a character:

Today’s blog post title brought to you by the character from Chicago, and Axl Rose, fronting Guns n’ Roses, “Paradise City“