Tag: out and about

Tuesday and the adventures thereto

Tuesday. Sunny, already warm and heading for the 70sF. They say.

Trash and recycling are at the curb. Breakfast has been et.

Slept well last night. The cats all piled on top of me, set purr boxes on HIGH, pushed the personal gravity fields to the top and — it worked. Eight hours and change, and I feel much more human.

My second cup of tea is brewing. Once I’ve dealt with that, I’ll be doing errands, including getting gas, while there’s any left to get, and a Staples run — very likely my last at our in-city store, which will be closing next month. What else — ah, the usual: grocery, bank, post office, goodwill, CVS. Home for lunch and possibly catching up the filing before I leave again for the library and needleworking.

What’s everybody doing today?

I did try this morning to get a picture of all four of us, but Firefly refused to be photographed until she had gotten her eyes done properly, which means you guys get two pictures of three.

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LOCAL PEEPS OF THE FLANNEL SHIRT WEARING INCLINATION: I just bought two flannel shirts at Reny’s for $5/each, and the Word is that they’re being “put away” today. So, if you’re wanting to stock up on flannel — get thee to Reny’s, like, now.

Obviously, I’m home again. Not only that, I accomplished almost all of my errands (I did not manage to buy two things, not for lack of trying, but for lack of Stuff Being In Stock).

I bought notebooks, legal pads and folders at Staples. Mind you, I don’t need any more notebooks or legal pads, but — sale. Also — new notebooks.

Did my Smol grocery shop at the Elm Plaza Hannaford, not wishing to brave the KMD Hannaford, where the freezers and cold keepers were out for most of the weekend.

The oven is heating for my Very! First! CookUnity Experience, which is apparently … Mediterranean Chicken Shawarma Bowl with Mint-Tahini sauce.

Many thanks to everyone who admired my new haircut. I must, however report, that it was only wet hair dragged back into a ponytail. This is what it looks like, after I’ve been running around all morning. And, yes, I do need a haircut, but — not today.

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Report on my very first Cook Unity meal, Mediterranean Chicken Shawarma Bowl with Mint-Tahini sauce, and a crazy little side salad, made with pickles, cherry tomatoes, and something yellow and dense, in cubes (edited to add: I am informed that these were pickled turnips). I love cultures that treat pickles like a food, rather than an afterthought. Just by the way.

The main course was good, but a little more than I’m accustomed to eating for lunch, which is my big meal of the day. I’ll have the rest of it tonight, but this could be an unexpected downside to having a meal service. Or, not, if I routinely get two meals out of one.

Anyhow, no complaints of the food, for Meal One.

Onward.
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So, I just learned a whole new way to be rude. I forgot to go to the bank when I was out earlier (this is what happens when you don’t Write It Down), so I went out after lunch. And as the teller was counting out my twenties for me, I saw one that was taped together, and another, that Ought To Have Been taped together. So, when she was done counting, I pulled those two bills and asked for replacements.

Her: You saw those?

Me: (Not in the OutLoud voice: Obviously.) Yes, I watch when people count money out. Old Habit.

Her: You want different bills?

Me: Yes. I don’t want my money to fall apart before I spend it.

Her: Replaces the twenties. Sighs heavily.

Me: Thank you. Leaves. Sighs heavily.

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Finished my latest project

Timely notes

Where were we?

Ah. Sunday. Time Change Day. I Ignored All The Advice, and went to bed late last night, because magic show, and slept past the new-normal waking time of 6 am by the Old Clock to 7 am OC, putting me well behind Everything.

For Calibration Purposes, it is as I write this sentence 9:21 am New Clock.

May I just say that it’s a good thing I don’t have to leave the house tomorrow. Or today.

Weather is currently cloudy, drizzly, and warm. I’m hoping today will be the coup for the ice field at the bottom of my front steps. I need to do something about that, though Exactly What escapes my imagination at the moment — it forms every year and it’s a death trap, getting deathier and trappier the older I get.

Last night’s magic show was enjoyable. I did meet the magician very briefly as he toured the house before-show, in his melant’i as “stage manager”. I had somehow failed to understand that I had a seat in the Very First Row, odd-side. I was in sort-of the middle, with a family of three sitting to my left and filling out the row.

The “stage manager” stopped by, hunkered down in front of our “group” of four, and asked us for our help. It seemed that a big part of Michael’s show was telepathy-based, including calling cards that people were thinking of. The Ace of Spades, according to the “stage manager” had been coming up in people’s thoughts just way too often, and our help was solicited in thinking about other cards.

He then pulled out a deck of cards, fanned them and offered them to me. “Pull a card, look at it, but don’t show it to anybody — put it inside the folds of your brain and just really think about it hard. Then give the card back to me. OK? OK!”

I chose a card (the ten of spades; I believe my prohibition against sharing that information expired at the end of the show), assured the “stage manager” that I had it firm in my mind, and he repeated the exercise with the people to my left. Then he left, telling us most earnestly to think hard about our card.

I mention here, because I noticed it, that those were very thin, slick cards.

When the magician came on-stage, and after a brief smoke, he called the daughter of the family to my left to think about her card. He then drew it on a pad of paper. The three of diamonds! Ta-Da!

And we were off.

A good time was, I believe, had by all, and I eventually wandered my way home to resuscitate my cats, who had all expired of hunger in my absence.

Today, I write, and do laundry. In fact, the first load is drying, and the second is washing.  I wish I could say the same about the WIP.

I’m drinking my first of what I believe will be many cups of tea on the day, and I really ought to find something to eat.

How’s everybody doing today?

Saturday morning, iced

Saturday. Cloudy and mizzling. It is said by the weatherbeans that the temps will rise unto the mid-40sF by this afternoon. Right now, they are warning of frozen surfaces.

I have a ticket to see Michael Carbonaro this evening, and I suspect I will need to work out a Strategy in re not breaking a leg. Right now, I’m leaning toward going downtown early, finding a parking space Right Near the Arts Center, rather than just parking in the Concourse, and, I dunno, read or find something to eat until showtime.

Meanwhile! At just barely half-eight, I have risen, showered, dressed, treated my printer with olive oil, compiled and printed out a section that needs to be reworked-and-expanded, taken a picture of the Writing Disaster Zone which it afterward occurred to me that I cannot share, because the thing I really wanted to showcase — aka the 28 x 15 inches pieced together printout which is the Entire Time Map for this novel — could actually be read by someone with Determination.

Regarding the time map — Yes, I am breaking out every trick I’ve ever learned. This is what it is to write with only one brain on the case. I mean, I do tell the cats what’s going on and solicit their input, but, yanno, they have their own dreaming to tend.

All that said — I should go find something that looks like breakfast.

Oh, wait. I heard back from CookUnity, which is very apologetic and free with the discounts and whatnot. They have not, however, answered my Core Question regarding the probable state of my food when it arrives on Monday, having sat in a warehouse, or an off-the-road delivery truck, or whatever for three days.

OTOH, I also gather from CookUnity that am Not Alone in this situation. I’m interested to hear that, down in Civilization, CookUnity maintains its own delivery fleet. That is not so for we who are off-Grid.

I have heard tell of another sort of co-op meal service, which utilizes chefs who are local to the customer, but I haven’t actually tracked that down, yet.

Now, I’m going to go find breakfast.

How’s everybody doing today?

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“

Writer’s Day Off

A very nice day out. The Belfast Indoor Farmers Market is the place to be on a Saturday in February, and I don’t think it was just the Valentine’s Day Effect.

I purchased many frivolities, including this new leather bag, which, if I’ve got to be carrying my passport with me, my usual go-to bag is too small. This one has three compartments: one for your phone; one up front, which you’re looking at, and a big central compartment. At the time this picture was taken, this bag held my Boox, my “papers,” wallet; business cards; lighthouse passport; other paperwork; and the charging cords for phone and Boox. It obviously was not holding my phone, because that’s what I was using to take the picture.

I also bought savory mushroom and veggie pie for lunch, a tea cake, for dessert, a bottle of ligonberry mead from Run Amok Meadery (which has an awesome label, not only for the graphic, but for the Denial Clause: “In my own defense, the moon was full and I was left unsupervised.”) Um, what else — ah. A small round of whole wheat sourdough, six Asagio cheese bagels in the Maine Economy Size, and a pair of local alpaca kneehighs, because I have discovered it to be a Universal Truth, that one cannot have too many alpaca kneehighs.

I have a couple things to do here on the computer, because I also distributed cards, and got a nibble from a jury member of the Maine Craft Store in Ducktrap, who sent me “something.” After that — and this — I believe i will continue my Writer’s Day Off by viewing another episode or three of the Silly Show I tapped last night, “My Demon.”

The drive was nice, and after I left Belfast, I went down to Camden to say hello to the harbor, before I turned around and came home.

And that is: Run Amok Meadery
imMEADiate Gratification
Honey-Lingonberry Wine

I gotta get another hat. . .

What went before Thursday: So, I bought a stability ball today — also known as a Giant Yoga Ball — on suggestion of PT, and by doing so I learned several things.

Thing One. I had to go to Wal*Mart to obtain this item. Now, I haven’t been in a Wal*Mart for at least 8 years, and at that time, I was in the Augusta Marketplace store and it was filthy and ill-kept, misfiled, and nerve-wracking to be in — you know, like all the stores are now. The Waterville store, today, was — spacious and well-lit, the shelves were stocked appropriately, signage (with a notable exception, which I will share) plentiful and easy to see. The gentleman in the red vest and ID tags who I stopped to ask where I should look for a Giant Yoga Ball told me that I would be going to the back of the store, to the Sports section, and then he used his phone to tell me that Giant Yoga Balls could be found in Aisle I-15.

Thing Two. Being as I had to walk to the furthest corner of the store to find Sports, I did have plentiful opportunity to look about me, and discover those things reported in Thing One. When I got to Sports, however, I found I-14 and I-17, but not Aisle I-15, which would be my luck. I asked a young lady who was stocking shelves, and whose face immediately said she didn’t want to have anything to do with me why there was no Aisle I-15, and the young man who was her partner said, “Oh, no, I’ll show you,” which he did (I-15 is, in the Waterville Wal*Mart, where they file the bicycles), and when I said, “There are no Giant Yoga Balls here,” led me to the exact shelf, which is where I learned Thing Three, which is!

You have to inflate the Giant Yoga Ball when you get it home. It comes with a cheap, plastic, manual air squeeze, and it will, conservatively, take me three days to inflate this thing. However! I have the ball in house, and have started on the inflation project, and I’m calling that progress.

I am now needing to get to my backlogged email.

Tomorrow Sarah comes in the morning to do the cleaning, and I believe I will be blocking out the rest of the day, which will give me 4.5 days to concentrate on reading/writing until I’m next needed elsewhere. I may, in fact, make a weekend of it, and order in, so I can keep focused on the WIP, with short breaks to blow up the stability ball.

So! I have what passes for A Plan. I note that this Plan may mean that I will be not much around the Internets. It’s OK; I’ll be working.
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Friday. Cold and intermittently sunny. Sarah changed her hours to Saturday.

Woke up at 5:30, got up at 6, sat with the Happy Lite, ate breakfast and was reading the WIP before 8. Read 200 pages, did a couple loads of laundry, broke for lunch — chicken Alfredo from … I have no idea, actually. Pasta Americana? It was good and I have leftovers, which is also good.

The story is not nearly as terrible as I had feared. In fact, it’s pretty good. So that’s a relief. I have 68 days until I have to hand it in, and even though I have to Really End It, excise those 9,000 words, and probably write … two? more fill-out scenes, I should be able to make that deadline.

Beta Readers! If you are still reading, do not despair! My Method is to do my read, then read your comments, once I have the story in my head in its present shape. You are, in a word, Still Relevant — very much so! — and I look forward to your notes with anticipation.

The stability ball has been inflated, and the cats are of the opinion that nobody needs a ball that big.

Dead River, after assuring me yesterday that my delivery was scheduled for today — has not yet delivered. I’m in no danger, but I would very much like to know why it’s suddenly become difficult to deliver oil to this address.

I still need to finish my Remarks and choose something(s) to read for my Event on the 21st.

The missing 1099-MISC arrived today, which would be my luck, because I wrote to the issuing party regarding its whereabouts yesterday. I now have to block out the better part of a day to enter everything into the accountant’s portal, because the thing is purposefully designed to force you to fill it in All At Once. In former years, when I was working from paper, I would have been filling the forms in as columns were added, and paperwork arrived, and the manifesting of the last 1099 would mean that I filled in one final line, reviewed, and took the whole packet down to Oakland on Monday morning.

Stoopid portal.

What else? The now-called Business Office, formerly Sharon’s Office, looks like a bomb hit it again. I used to write and do business in here, and . . . I can’t figure out how I did — oh, no, I do know. By this time in the Proceedings, the manuscript would have taken over the living room, and Steve would be reading it while I did the taxes, and I would have been able to keep up better with the day-to-day paperwork because Steve would have picked up the laundry and the cooking and the dishwashing, because he would rather do those things than the taxes.

deep breath

Nope.  Still Not Preferring this timeline.

Last night, I collapsed into bed earlyish and asked the Boox to read Cuckoo’s Egg to me. Now, I have read Cuckoo’s Egg manyManyMANY times. It is, in fact, one of my favorite books. I know this story. But listening to it is a Whole Nother Experience. I have not had this particular sensation of . . . newness . . . with the other books — all old favorites, because I’m still learning — I’ve listened to, so that’s interesting.

And that I think catches us up. I’m going to take some time to excavate my desk.

Ah.  Today’s blog post title brought to you by Rocky and Bullwinkle.

Thursday open for bidness

OK, let’s see…

Thursday. Sunny and cold. Feeling much more the thing than yesterday, which — just let’s say that it was a day when you drink peppermint tea and honey because your stomach hurts and that turns out to be a bad idea.

Got in an early four hours with the WIP this morning, and have verified that I’ll be removing about 9,000 words. This is not a surprise; I kinda sorta knew I was going to hafta do it, unless I Thought of Something. Which I haven’t, so — into the Pull File they go, and maybe they’ll be useful later.

I have a doctor’s appointment at 2:30, and need to verify where I’m going. Also, I have emails that I need to answer, and! I need to tell Draft2Digital that, yes, I do want Pinbeam Books to be listed with Bookshop.

Still waiting on that one outstanding 1099-MISC.

I see that the judge overseeing the Anthropic Settlement has extended various deadlines for opting in, out, and sideways, which will likely put back the expected payout schedule, originally projected to begin in August. Granted, I never expected to see any money from this “settlement,” but the whole thing’s so infuriating that even reading the subject line kicks up the blood pressure.

And FedEx has just arrived to deliver a letter, so it looks like the range for hitting my house really is between 11:15 and noon. Which is actually useful information.

Trying to figure out if I want to try to see John Mellencamp’s off-Broadway fine-tuning of his play at Ogunquit in October. I expect if I want to do that, I’ll have to reserve a room at Ogunquit realsoonnow. Must lookout prices.

For now, I need to do my duty to the cats, and then heat up the soup I didn’t eat yesterday, ref stomachache, and — oh, yeah, find where the heck I’m supposed to be at 2:30.

How’s everybody doing today?

Tuesday morning, with biscuits

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. How cold you ask? Five-Fahrenheit-feels-like-minus-five-Fahrenheit.

Trash and recycling are at the curb, boxes of books are in the back of the Subaru, I’m sitting in the comfy chair in my office getting a dose of sunlight, and Firefly is marching around on my lap slapping my face with her tail.

No, wait, now she’s laying on her side making biscuits, no — now she’s tucked up under my chin and gazing soulfully into my face. She’s purring really loudly. So I guess that’s my good morning.

Last night, I watched the first episode of Riot Women and I’m having a good time with it. For values of a good time. They are, after all, talking about a subject that interests me greatly as an old woman, which is the sudden facility to become invisible once you’re past a certain age. This is especially interesting to me because I passed most of my early life as an invisible person, when I wasn’t being told I was lazy and stupid.

Firefly, for those keeping score, is now sprawled across my lap, smiling up at me, purring, and continuing to make biscuits with one paw. I would say that this is a spoiled cat.

In a few minutes I’ll be getting up to get breakfast, which will be oatmeal, chocolate chips, and almond butter and then I’ll get on the road to get my haircut and to deliver books.

What’s on your schedule today?

Monday and Tuesday, too

Monday, condensed

The Long Back Yard

1 Monday morning. Snowing lightly. And the sound of chainsaws from next door.

I expect it will be my turn when and if the guys get here with the equipment since they have to take down two big pines for me.

In the meantime, since I don’t have any work to do today, I’m sitting in the comfy chair in the window in my office with the happy light on, dictating this note to the world.

How’s everybody doing today?

2 My mission today, aside from staying away from chainsaws and falling logs, is to change out the cat fountains, and catch up with friends at Front and Main this afternoon.

I will also, today, or tomorrow, be posting Explanatory Notes to the Read-Along thread on Splinter Universe, explaining why I fell off the wagon, and offering some insights to the rest of Agent of Change and Conflict of Honors.

I am now reading Carpe Diem, aka Val Con and Miri go to Madison, Maine, which I’ll note that they arrived there before we did. We finished Carpe and mailed it to our editor before we made our own migration to Maine, where we fetched up in Skowhegan, which is right handy to Madison.  The first time we drove through Madison’s shopping district, I said to Steve, “This looks really familiar.” And he laughed at me, the rat. Which is when the penny dropped, and I said, “It’s real?”

3 Well. That’s a different look. I purely hate taking down trees, and, yes, I know that these were in fact very sick trees, and a danger to the house in the next high wind, and that the top of one had already (previous to our tenancy) snapped off in a windstorm, but — still.

Trees.

4  So, that was a nice visit before the group splits for winter vacations. Front and Main has an amazing lobby. There was a woman at one of the tables all set up with her papers and her laptop, and honestly I think she’s on to something. The tomato-veggie-lentil soup was very good, and so was the company.

Went to the grocery after, but forgot to go to the hardware store. Ah, well. I’ll be out again tomorrow.

I believe I will putter for the rest of the day. Maybe make a frittata and see how that goes. I should freeze the second pork chop so I have something to draw on; I let the freezer get a little low. I made a fresh batch of hummus a couple days ago, so that’s not quite gone. Maybe some time this week I can bake bread. Oh! And I can finally finish my second glass piece.

So this is what people who don’t write books do. Wow.

Still snowing, just enough to be pretty.

While the tree guys were doing their thing, Firefly and Tali went back to Steve’s office, but Rook vanished, so he missed the play-by-play. When I came home, he had a lot to say about how the trees are gone, Mom, while he was sitting on my lap, banging his head on my chin. I think we’ve managed to agree that it was probably for the best, since he’s had a wee dram of dry food and wandered off to the bedroom window.

And so, the midday report.
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The Long Back Yard:


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Tuesday. Sunny and cold. Trash and recycling are at the curb. The space where the trees used to be is noticeable, but not raw, thanks to the snow.

Breakfast was leftover soup. Lunch with either be leftover frittata or leftover pork and sauerkraut. Prolly pork; frittata will go better in the evening, after needlework.

I have errands this morning, because! not only did I forget I needed to go to the hardware store yesterday, and even though I was there, I forgot to pick up my meds, so back to the grocery for me.

I woke up at 5, and said to Tali, who happened to be sleeping next to me at that time, “I don’t have to get up now.” She knocked her head into my chin — I’m not sure if she picked that piece of communication up from Rook or he from her — and started to purr. And I went back to sleep.

I thought I was going to update the Read-Along blog last night, but I wasn’t able to get into Splinter Universe. That’s been fixed, so I can get with that today. Instead of updating, last night I carried on with Carpe Diem, where I’ve just now gotten to the point where Val Con is introducing his kin’s theme songs to Miri.

And that’s what I’ve got this morning.

What’s everybody doing today?

Busy Tuesday

The Long Back Yard

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Well. I solved some, but not all of my problems. Charlie’s was able to take care of the tire pressure for me, so I don’t have to get any more scoldy emails from my car. Is anyone else’s car like this? It only writes when it wants something — air in the tires; washer fluid. It never writes to see if I want something, or just to say hey. Honestly, it’s like we don’t have a relationship at all.

Lowe’s was a labyrinth, Target was much better than the last time I was in, and I could actually shop.

I found The. Perfect. barstool for My Studio at Marden’s, but Marden’s, along with its other peculiarities, doesn’t deliver. Or doesn’t always deliver, and while the stool in question would fit in the back of the Subaru, my chances of getting it downstairs with both it and me in one piece were — let’s just say the smart money would back gravity. Heavily.

I found a less perfect, and only slightly more expensive barstool at Fortin’s, and they? Will send it across the river tomorrow with a nice young person who will take it down the stairs for me, so — win.

I did not arrive at a satisfactory solution for sunblocking the sliders, though I may have an It’ll Do.

I came nowhere near achieving a premade step so I can walk out of Steve’s office and onto the deck without breaking an ankle.

Two pleasant things happened. At Target, I was prompted to Use Google Wallet, and so I did — only it didn’t work. My cashier was in my corner though, and between us, with a bit of last minute advice from a pro on the other register, I got it to work, and he cheered.

Also, when I stopped to drop a package off at a friend’s house, a big black cat came down the middle of the road toward me, clearly on A Mission. I said, “Is that Spazzio?” and his tail went up just as far as it could.  He escorted me to the porch, where I left the package. He lobbied hard for me to let him in, but — no key, kitty.

So, back home now, and? I should find something to eat, I guess.

How’s everybody doing today?
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Fortin’s wins today’s hero badge.  They brought my bar stool to me an hour after I got home, carried it into the house, down the stairs and into the studio.  We are now set up and ready to do some glasswork.

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Went to needlework, but — I grabbed the wrong bag off the hook, so I had the Invisible Project to work on. Still, it was nice to just sit and chat. Home now, and V. tired.

I expect I’m not long for a vertical position.

Tomorrow, I hope to write like the wind. I’ll check in as can.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.