music – Sharon Lee, Writer

See how the mainsail sets

Tuesday. Partly cloudy and warm-ish. A good day for a ride, actually.

I’m just back from Bath, having come the Long Way Home, getting the car washed and picking up a Forbidden Sandwich at Subway, this in addition to the peppermint mocha and ricotta-cherry Danish I treated myself to at Cafe Creme after my doctor’s appointment, which?

Was a success of its kind. I got my levothyroxine dosage put back to where it’s been for the last decade or more, and I was given an A1C test (first time for everything, I guess), and scored a 4.5 of whatever it is they’re measuring, which they seemed happy with, and since there was no new medicine attached to whatever it is, I’m happy, too.

Also? No more doctor appointments and only one test on the time map until November. Unless Something Comes Up, which — fingers crossed.

As mentioned above, I came home via Rte 1 and 27, and was able to honor the Ancient Pact to sing along with “Sloop John B” when it popped up on the radio. I also tried to sing along with “Wild, Wild West,” but I really only remembered, “I love her eyes and her wild, wild hair,” which I sang with Verve.

I’m now going to tinker with my Remarks, remembering to eat my Forbidden Sandwich and to go to needlework.

What song(s) did you sing along with this morning?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Beach Boys, “Sloop John B“

It’s been so long, eating and drinking and making merry

The Long Back Yard this morning. Perhaps not obvious from the picture: It was snowing at the time.

OK. Thursday. Snowed about an inch this morning, just enough to freshen yesterday’s snow. Intermittently sunny — or cloudy, if you prefer it that way — at the moment.

Breakfast was eggs scrambled with spinach and onions and cheese, with a biscuit and strawberry jam on the side. Lunch…I may go back to my original plan of ham and yam, because I’m not sure those chicken breasts are thawed, actually.

Wrote about 930 words this morning, concluding a scene that I really like — Yes, this is going to be a book totally comprised of Scenes I Like. Rookie and Tali kept me company in the office, while Firefly is keeping a Very Close Eye on the bedroom.

I’m getting ready to start a loaf of bread to rise, after which it’s PT homework, one’s duty the cats, and lunch, one way or the other.

Hope everybody’s having a good day.
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Yanno? “Wonderful Christmastime?” Paul McCartney, celebrating all the lovely, lovely things that “Only happen at this time of Year” And I am Up To Here with that.

First of all — it’s a real dud on the lyrics, but so are most Christmas songs, so I guess I can’t take points off for that. But honestly? Aren’t we all supposed to be together and sharing joy and magic all the time?

Why, why does it only “happen at this time of year?” Why is it not a lifestyle choice? What is it about cruelty that is so attractive that it gets 363ish days while Joy, Magic, and Fellow Feeling only get 2ish, and only if we’ve spent enough money?

Yes, I do feel better now. And the bread’s in to rise.
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OK…The bread is really good. I had wanted a dense, seedy loaf and this one delivers. I cut it in half — one piece for the freezer and the other to eat now. Ahem. Over the course of the next couple days.

In between It All, I seem to have written 2,320 words today, which is … a lot, as we count words around here. On the other hand, as Jen Sin today observed to Miri, Traders talk A Lot. The WIP entire is somewhere around 113,480 total words.

I will mention that I wrote that many words and STILL had time to fall down the rabbit hole of Mongolian Techno. Some years back now there had been a Mongolian metal rock band — HU? HUU? — and they were doing some interesting things, but Mongolian Techno? Who knew.

Tomorrow, I have Real Life Business I have to take care of first (Well. “First,” after clearing snow, so Sarah can get in and also picking up so she can do her thing) having successfully put it off for more than a week (procrastination; it’s not for sissies).

I did read some few pages of Agent of Change, and will probably read some more after the cats stop shouting at me to deliver them their Happy Hour. What’s really interesting, is that I can remember which bits Steve wrote, and which bits I wrote, and which bits Steve wrote and I changed. I don’t think — but will be testing the proposition — that I can do that with later books. But you never forget your first, amirite?

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. Watch out for windblown snow and ice on the roads.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by The Hu, from their 2019 Billboard hit, “Yuve Yuve Yu“

Who’s the hunter, who’s the game?

View the pre-Sarah cat census here

Now, where were we?

Ah.

Friday.

Sarah has departed and the house is much cleaner. She reported that Firefly flirted with her to the point of offering chin to be rubbed, which is really new. Usually, Firefly booked to Steve’s office the minute the door opened for the cleaning person. Of course, that was when we had Trooper to stand between us and all invaders. Firefly had apparently settled on a soft approach to invaders (Trooper satisfied himself with Keeping A Close Eye). I did think I saw a memo come in regarding adopting Sarah, but any such Resolution needs to be unanimous, and I, at least, cannot sanction making Sarah’s cats into orphans.

Wrote a little, my intention is to write some more, but also to quit early and watch the first episode of Miss Scarlet.

After Sarah left us, I made hummus, and then I made some toast to so that I could properly sample what I had wrought — and yes I will be making that again. And when I do, I’ll be using the blender, because my food processor is just a little midgy thing, and not up to an entire can of chickpeas. Though it worked fine doing it in sections. Messy, but fine.

While I was in the kitchen, I made some cookies to address the catastrophe reported the other day.

Remaining on the to-do list, one’s duty to the cats, a brief walk, Part 2 of PT homework, eating lunch, and hitting the WIP again.

So! That’s the news from here.

What’s the news from there?
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Well. Knocking off for the day. Didn’t get much writing done — only about 700 new words, but I did a lot of plotting and staring into space.

On the RL front, I had apparently hit the Land’s End sale hard last year. I had no idea that I had this many mock-necks. OTOH, it’s winter, so — yay! mock t-necks FTW.

I forgot to mention that I did go out to meet ‘n greet the new town manager last night, but it turns out that many people wanted to do the same thing, the new guy having grown up in Waterville and graduated from the high school and all. Long story short, his fandom turned out in such numbers that there was no place for me to park, even if I’d been willing to walk from the other side of the Concourse, which — SPOILER — I was not. So I came home. Mayhap I will write a letter after he’s officially in his office.

I see in my email queue a short story galley to proof, news of a check having landed, which should be in my account on Monday, and — oh. The library wonders if I’d like to do an Author Event in February. That might be fun.

The post office mail hasn’t been delivered yet, which is making me slightly cranky, since there’s a parcel due in that really can’t just sit out in the mailbox and freeze overnight.

My Plan for Saturday and Sunday — tomorrow and the next day — is to write, as next week is Quite Complicated, and that’s before we get to the crack o’dawn double MRI next Saturday. If I don’t check in over the next couple of days, it’s because I’m working.

And on that note — everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Patty Smyth and Scandal, because I heard it yesterday as I was out and about, and it’s a decent song and Patty Smyth can really sing. And I remember — yes, I do remember, the first time I saw the music video, and then trying to explain — er, no — describe it to Steve. WARNING: If continuity errors bother you, don’t watch this video. The Warrior

Saturday business with coon cats and yam

Business First: Amazon allows me to know that the paper edition of Civilized Behavior “is scheduled for release on 11/13/2025. On this date, your book’s detail page will become visible to readers to purchase your book on Amazon everywhere you have territory rights at 12:00 a.m. UTC.” This release is concurrent with the ebook release.

So, that‘s a thing.

Saturday. Dim and damp. Up at 6:15, breakfast bar and tea at the desk.

I hit a rough patch in the WIP, where I wobbled a bit. I removed two scenes, which has gotten me back on-course. The irony is that one of those was a touchstone scene that I started the book knowing I had to include. Proving yet again that writing is a Science.

Ahem.

Taking a break now to get myself some lunch — I’m thinking the yam, an onion, garlic, maybe a can of white potatoes, too (so I can have leftovers tomorrow, for breakfast, maybe, with an egg), sauteed, and cottage cheese on the side.

After, I’ll do my duty to the cats and get back with the WIP.

I hereby give myself permission to not finish the read-through today. Yes, I know that was The Plan, but it’s no sense bringin’ killin’ into it.

The cats have been Very Much Approving of me spending more time in Steve’s office, so that’s another thing. I’m enjoying having a dedicated writing, and only writing, computer, and a space that’s not cluttered with Business I Have To Get To, so this was actually a Good Move.

Last night, I worked late to get the first 200 pages read, then collapsed into bed after my dinner, and put Black Cat Jazz on ‘way low. All of the cats joined me and we just sorta zoned out and purred..

So, that’s what’s happening around here. What’s happening with you?

Believe in me, I’m with the High Command

What went before: 42% of new ramen shops close within the year; 72% close within three years.

Good heavens; I had no idea (1) how many people want to open noodle/ramen shops or (2) what the fail rate is.

Yes, I’m researching noodle shops for the WIP.

Because! You should write what you know.

Which means: Do your research.

Edited to add: No, I’m not looking for stats; I’m looking for what you need in the kitchen. The stats were just … there.

What went before: So, wrote a scene kind of like the scene I had in my head, about 1,180 words.

I have a couple of things to set up for the rest of the week, which is just chock full of fun. Book club early tomorrow afternoon — that’s fun. Mammogram at 8 am on Tuesday — not so much fun — and needlework tomorrow evening. They’re going to start charging me rent at the library.

Wednesday and Thursday are clear, and on Friday morning, I get to drive to Bath to visit my PCP. Could be worse, I guess. At least Bath is interesting, and I can reward myself for my patience by visiting the bakery, after.

Speaking of fun, I suddenly, and almost without warning, decided that I was done with low-stakes cozies for the moment and on the advice of a friend have taken on Shards of Earth by Adrian Tchaikovsky. So far, so good. It’s good to see what the Iloheen got up to in their retirement. And it’s good to be reminded that we/I don’t write ambitious books.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe; I’ll check in again tomorrow.

***

Earlier that same Monday: So, I often listen to Alan Hunter on Classic Rewind on Sirius XM. He’s doing something interesting — send him your top ten favorite songs from the “Cassette Era” and he, or somebody, will tally them up and play the Most Favorite Top Ten of Everybody Everywhere sometime in October.

Of course, I don’t remember Alan’s email address, and he did allow as how this is the sort of list that changes daily, if not hourly, but it’s an interesting challenge of itself.

So! I Challenge You! List your Top Ten Songs from the so-called “Cassette Era of Rock and Roll” (late 1970s-early 1990s) as of — Right Now.

Go.

My Top Ten before I finish my first cup of tea are (in no particular order, because that would be TOO crazy):
1 Silent Running, Mike and the Mechanics
2 Don’t Pay the Ferryman, Chris de Burgh
3 Werewolves of London, Warren Zevon
4 Don’t Fear the Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult
5 Under Pressure, Queen/Bowie
6 Burn with Me, Modern English
7 Missionary Man, The Eurythmics
8 Be Good to Me, Tina Turner
9 Sultans of Swing, Dire Straits
10 Beast of Burden, Rolling Stones

Reading over a section I wrote a couple days ago. Made note: “Korval pilots do not SCURRY.” Sheesh. Who writes this stuff?

So, Monday. Sunny and pleasant. Been doodling around with mini-projects. Getting my needles ready for the next project. Making a pot of rice, doing some business correspondence. Need to go downstairs and clean the cat boxes in a few. Book Club at 1.

Last night, after I quit for the day, I sat down and handwrote another two pages. I really need to sit down, seriously, with the chapter-by-chapter and make a list of What’s Missing, ’cause I could write Good Scenes until the Heat Death of the Universe. Still looking at that title. It may have to do.

I keep forgetting to mention for the edification of Rookie’s Fan Club — for all his obvious charms, and they are many, Rookie has not really been very chatty. Given that he’s a Maine Coon, that made him practically silent. As a kitten, his purr was so loud, it sometimes knocked him over, which was — no, we don’t laugh at our kittens. We tell them they’re Very Special to have Thought of That. Now that he’s a Big Cat, though, his purr is extremely soft and puffy, and while I have once or twice heard him yell in frustration, his vocalizations were mostly quiet, and directed to the other cats.

That has changed, since, I’ll say, since Trooper left us. Rook has taken to meeping at me, making eye contact and Stating A Thing. He’s still much more quiet-spoken than Trooper, or even Sprite, who spoke softly, but with Great Clarity — but he’s talking, and he clearly means to communicate. So, yanno, that’s exciting.

The kid’s still growing.

I don’t think I have anything else to report. As said, I’ve got a few chores to do before I head off for book club, but it’s not really a very crowded looking day.

How’s your Monday shaping up?

Today’s blog post title from Mike and the Mechanics, “Silent Running,” because how could I not?

Also, cat tax. Tali is getting bold:

I’ll find out, when I get there

Friday early in the morning: Ducking in real quick to answer the morning’s most frequent questions.

The name of the character is Zigfrid, and she has a problem. What a surprise.

The caricatures of Steve and me hanging on the wall in one of the photos I posted yesterday are by Howard Taylor, creator of Schlock Mercenary. They were done at Denvention, the 66th World Science Fiction Convention, in Denver.

In that same photo, Rookie is not scared or angry. His tail is always like that.

And! Not a question, but an observation. I’ve been listening to Black Cats (soft) Jazz on Youtube, and like it very much. The cats don’t seem to like jazz, but I’m hoping it’ll grow on them, acknowledging that jazz is, like a Certain Professor, an Acquired Taste. Steve, for instance, loved him some blues, gypsy jazz, and fusion, most of which does not work for me.

All that said — onward! I’ll check back in, post-flu-shot.

Friday, post-flu-shot: Well. That was . . . an adventure.

An adventure, yes.

So, while I was getting my flu shot, I asked the nice young pharmacist when I could get reboosted on the COVID vaccine, the last booster I had being March. He kind of looked at the ceiling and said, kind of apologetic, “Well, see, the CDC isn’t making recommendations any more.” “Yes,” I said, “but aside that.” Weeeelllll, aside that, they don’t have, that is, they just can’t give, or well, actually — I need a prescription from my doctor stating that it is “medically necessary. “Otherwise,” said the pharmacist, “I’d give you one today. It’s been six months. I’m sorry; it’s really inconvenient.”

Well, no. I mean, yes, it is inconvenient, but they’re going to kill people. Already have killed people. And are So. Very. Proud. of Themselves.

I HATE this timeline.

I did some grocery shopping after getting my shot, and STILL there was no candied ginger on the shelf, so after I finished my business with Uncle Hannaford, I went down to Uncle Dean’s, and had my choice of several bags on the shelf. Which is why we need a natural market in town.

I’m home now, and everything put away. Next up is sitting down with some ice on my back and reading a chapter of my book, then! Lunch, and then?

To work.

Today’s blog post title from Tom Petty, “Learning to Fly.”

Cat pics and embroidery project The Next:

I travel the world and the seven seas

Business first: If you have read a Liaden novel or short story collection, or, heck, a Carousel book or short story collection, please consider leaving a review on the bookselling site of your choice.

Thank you.

What went before ONE: Chores done, including remaking the bed with nice clean sheets, that may help me sleep tonight. I have regretfully had to close the windows, because there is not a breath of air moving outside and it was 85F/29C in my office, which is — too warm.

Wordle has also been solved, so! I guess it’s time to find something to eat for lunch, so I can go to work.

What went before TWO: I cleared off half of the top of the supply dresser, so Rook and Tali can use the side window. Not that any of these cats are spoiled.

What went before THREE: Hey, it’s raining. We really need rain.

I? Am not done inputting the correx, but I’ve come to a picky bit, and I’m tired, so instead of pushing myself to frustration — knocking off now; early-ish to bed, and tomorrow’s a new day.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

What went before FOUR: I think they’re trying to tell me something:

Monday, and it’s a Beautiful Morning. I have opened every window in this house that opens. Sirius XM popup channel 80s ChillPill is my morning entertainment, currently listening to “Sweet Dreams” from the Eurythmics.

I had a lovely, long sleep, despite which the day started . . . awkwardly.

As has become the habit, I got up and immediately gave Trooper his gravy-and-meds and got dressed while he was chowing down. Came out to the kitchen with the intention of making scrambled eggs with Inclusions, followed by Trooper who was screaming his head off, despite having just eaten. I applied snuggles; that wasn’t it. I offered dry food, which is never it, anymore, but I was starving and really needed to eat. Yelling continued to a point where I actually couldn’t think, and when you can’t think to scramble eggs, you’re in a bad spot.

I put Trooper, and Rook, for company, into the bathroom, closed the door, and went back to the kitchen to make my own breakfast. Got the Inclusions into the frying pan. Reached for the salt grinder, and?

The base fell off. Salt everywhere. I mean, yeah, thank ghu it was salt and not, oh, molasses, but yikes! I finished making breakfast, let Trooper and Rook out of the bathroom, ate breakfast, opened a can of gooshy food for Trooper, who at least licked the gravy, and cleaned up the salt. I don’t have any more coarse salt to pour into the Oxo grinder, and anyhow the Oxo grinder and I need to have A Talk . . . and — sigh. OK, guys, the Eurythmics was great, and Whitney Houston I can tolerate, but I draw the line at Peter Cetera. I guess the 80s were a mixed bag.

Where was I? Oh, Come to Jesus with the Oxo Salt Grinder. I do have a McCormick disposable grinder full of salt, so that’s what I’m playing with now.

Recapping: The salt has been cleaned up, Trooper has had his second breakfast and is in his box on my desk, sleeping. Junior Grade Cats are distributed in various windows. I need to stage the trash, perform my duty to the cats, do the bookkeeping I’ve been avoiding, write a letter, make a call for my annual eye appointment, and then? I can write.

How did your Monday start out?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by the Eurythmics, “Sweet Dreams“

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

All my friends know the low rider

Saturday. Sunny. Predicted to be much warmer than yesterday, so the windows are, sadly, closed, and we’re on station air.

Breakfast was half a blueberry muffin and cottage cheese. Lunch is as yet undecided. I have pork chops that I need to bake, so I could do that at lunchtime, rather than this morning, and freeze two, instead of three. That might actually be the way to go. Turkey burger chili can happen tomorrow, when the ‘beans are calling for really hot, and I will definitely be hibernating in the coolth.

Other chores on the day include answering emails, taking the clean dishes out of the dishwasher, swapping out the cat fountains, one’s duty to the cats, taking a walk, doing back exercises, and, well, writing.

Since my best writing time is between lunch and coon cat happy hour (and, if I’m honest, after coon cat happy hour til, oh, 10-ish, but I really don’t think I’d better go Fully Nocturnal; things are weird enough around here), the Current Plan is to clear chores/appointments in the morning, and after lunch, to write, even if the chores aren’t done. There will, after all, always be chores.

Speaking of chores, I Have Viewed How-Tos on YouTube and am confident that I can keep the shower and surrounding bathroom up to spec without killing myself, so *that’s* good. God She knows that I have vacuum cleaners. And dust cloths. The only thing that’s still a Puzzle are the basement stairs. I think I can handle the cordless vac on the terrain, but there was something amiss with the cordless vac, pre-BaltiCon, which I will have to investigate, now that I’m home.

. . . and John Fogerty has just informed the Listening Audience of Classic Vinyl that “Down on the Corner,” was inspired by Winnie the Pooh, whom he imagined busking on a city corner with his band, Winnie and the Pooh Bears. Strange man, John Fogerty.

I do believe that’s All The News.

What music are you listening to this morning?

Today’s blog post brought to you by War, “Low Rider.”

All the vampires walkin’ through the valley

Today is Book Day for the mmP edition of Ribbon Dance!

What went before ONE: Yeah, that’s no good. Steve yelled at me for weeding for good reason. Weeding does not pay the bills, OTOH, the garden needs upkeep. I b’lieve I will call the nice young man who installed the present garden and see if he has someone on his crew who may be hired to weed, or if he knows of some such person.

It is gorgeous out there today.

What went before TWO: Have my appointment at Hands On Glass in Corning to make a paperweight (my class at the Corning Museum is to make an ornament), and had a lovely chat with Rodi, the owner. Cat boxes scooped, various minor chores accomplished, and now! lunch, with a side of naproxen and muscle relaxants. At the risk of having too much of a good thing, today’s lunch is a grilled ham and cheese.

After all that, it’s back with the crew of the good ship Chandra Marudas. With a little cooperation from the writing brain, and hoping that the muscle relaxants will jolly along the hands, knee, and back (I’m reminded of Gene Wolfe, who was asked what he did when the writing wasn’t flowing. He promptly said, “When I can’t write, I go out to the garden.” Pause. “And after about ten minutes, I remember that I hate to garden and go back inside to write.”)

And on that note..

What went before THREE: Working late…

1,206 new words, closing out the prologue. Not the best prologue every written, but we can fix that, now. WIP total words +/-32,825.

I am V. Tired and hope that the helpful kitties will let me sleep as long as necessary.

Intermission: A kind friend shared this with me the other day: Dr. Who learns BSL (BSL=British Sign Language ASL=American Sign Language)

Wednesday. Sunny and breezy. A little too breezy at the moment to deploy the Awesome New Chair, which I folded up and stuck in the windless corner of the deck last night. The windows are open in my office even though it’s still a little cool, so I’m currently wearing a sweatshirt that I’ll probably be taking off within the hour.

. . . and I have just learned “power ballad,” thanks to Tommy London, who consistently comes from way back outta my left field, and more often than not leaves me saying, “Do what, now?”

So Power Ballad, according to the internets: “The hard rock power ballad typically expresses love or heartache through its lyrics, shifting into wordless intensity and emotional transcendence with heavy drumming and a distorted electric guitar solo representing the ‘power’ in the power ballad.” Examples are Nilsson’s “Without You” (holding place as the grandfather of the form); “November Rain,” from Guns ‘n Roses; and Tina Turner’s “We don’t need another hero.”

You’re welcome.

Today’s to-do includes changing the bed, including finding a lighter weight blanket. I think we’re out of the wool-and-fleece blanket nights now. I have at least two letters to answer; also one’s duty to the cats, ASL review, writing, and assembling and testing the new Lasko space heater that took the long way to Maine and only just arrived yesterday.

For those who Worry, breakfast was a warm rosemary roll with cream cheese and the last of the grapes. Lunch will be fish and a veggie to be named later.

I haven’t begged for reviews for a couple days now, so! If you’ve read a Lee, Miller, or Lee and Miller title lately, please review it in the venue of your choice. Thank you so much.

Well. What’s the weather at your house today?

Today’s blog post brought to you by Mr. Tom Petty, “Free Fallin‘”