out and about

Thursday on the run

Thursday, sunny and cold, but everybody’s acting like it’s summer, because the temps are in the 30sF as opposed to the mid-teens F.

The plowguy arrived at 7:30 and cleared the drive, and the steps and the turnaround, and the short path from the steps to the side door of the garage and! cleared the berm in front of the garage door. Best. Plowguy. Ever.

Went to P(hysical) T(herapy); got my hairs cut; stopped at the PO; made a smol tour of Dollar Store and Reny’s looking for a ball (for PT), and found one at Five Below. Heated up leftover soup for lunch, and have leftovers, because it became a sorta refrigerator soup, since I had a little bit of this, and a little bit of that, and a little bit of that over there . . . Anyhoots, I have leftover soup, some of which will join the other soup in the freezer. I’ve washed dishes, done my duty to the cats and need to do another couple things before I go out to meet and greet the new town manager.

Before I go dashing off, however, I have a question from the mailbag, to wit!

“when the current book gets too long, why don’t you split it in two books?”

And the answer is!

Don’t wanna.

Lest I seem surly, I’ll unpack that a little.

I have three books left under contract, the book I’m working on and two more*. I know, in broad terms, what the two remaining books are about, and neither one of them is a continuation of the story I’m working on now.

Therefore, the solution to the current story needing more room is to write a longer-than-usual-for-us book. So, that’s what I’m doing.

I’ll note that we have occasionally, in the past, intended to write only one book and wound up writing two — Fledgling and Saltation leap to mind, as does Ribbon Dance and Diviner’s Bow. Or like that time we intended to write seven books and wound up writing 27 — and counting.

So, that’s the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory for now.

How’s everybody doing?
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*Yes, there may be more Liaden books in future. Or, yanno, there may not. My particular understanding with the universe at this point, and always bearing in mind, “Man proposes; God disposes.” (aka Man plans; the Universe laughs), is that I will finish the books currently under contract and then I’ll See.

The Cold Errands

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. Trash and recycling at the curb. Breakfast was cottage cheese with canned peaches and toast. Reward for getting the trash and recycling to the curb in 2F/-16F, cookie with second cup of tea.

Lunch will likely be the last yam in the larder, which ought to be a song. Looks like I will be hitting the grocery this morning, too. How the errands do pile up.

Eye doctor appointment in an hour. Need to write a couple checks so I can throw them at the post office along with my holiday cards while I’m out in the world.

Finished Tie Me Knot, which brings me to 60 books read this year. In 2024, I read 61 books (including Diviner’s Bow TWICE), so I’ll probably match last year.

I do believe I will be scheduling a read of the Liaden Universe novels, in publication order, for 2026. I have never read the series straight through, though I’ve obviously read older books as they came up for reprint, so this will be … an experience.

How’s everybody doing this morning?

Wednesday. Grey and looking cold outside. I have not yet been outside by reason of the plowguy (All Hail, the Plowguy!) came by when I was still snuggled in bed under a pile of blankets and three coon cats, to plow the drive and clear the steps.

Looking out over the Long Back Yard, it does seem like we might have gotten another couple/four inches after I threw the towel in last night, so the weatherbeans have redeemed themselves. A Long Slllloooowwww Snow.

PT at 8:00, then the grocery. I need gas before I go to Brunswick, but that doesn’t have to happen today.

Let the calendar show that today was the First Official Donning of The (short) Snow Boots, and the winter jacket (not to be confused with the Big Coat).

And that’s all I got for the moment.

Hope everybody’s having a good morning.
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Aaaaand back.

It is now sunny and bright and the snow is melting off of Surfaces, which is all good until it freezes up this evening.

PT was PT — did a couple laps on the sit-down elliptical (it has a name — NuStep? — but it wasn’t important and I don’t remember it), had tutoring in at-home exercises. I do have an appointment next week, oh! and the week after. So, not so bad with the timing as I had imagined. That’s good.

After PT, I went to the grocery store, where I bought more than was on the list, though not a wreath, because really, Hannaford? Those are some flea-bitten wreaths y’all are wantin’ the earth for. Instead, I brought the groceries home, put them away, and went over to the Agway in Winslow, and bought a on-clearance wreath, then, since I was out and spacing around anyway, I put gas in the car.

Let the record show that I used the Google Wallet for the first time to pay for my wreath at Agway.

Came home and had a mug of hot chocolate and a cookie (I see cookie-making in the future), which maybe could spoil my lunch, if I had any idea what lunch was gonna be, but since I don’t, that’s not an issue.

The cats and I will decorate the wreath this evening.

Speaking of cats:

What if I’d been the one to say goodbye?

What went before Tuesday:

Went down a couple of rabbit holes.

First, someone is actually trying to schedule an MRI for me, and we’ve been playing phone and portal tag.

Second, I went looking for The Other File full of teaching stuff — I did find it — but while I was looking, I opened a file drawer Full of Lee-and-Miller interviews, reviews, articles, pr — bunches and Bunches and BUNCHES of Stuff. A whole file drawer and, yanno?

We have never been famous, or even particularly —

And that? Was Midcoast Hospital in Brunswick calling. I have an MRI scheduled for Saturday December 6, so someone’s taking this seriously. Is there a word that means “simultaneously freaked out and relieved”?

Anyhoot. As I said, I did find the Other File, but I still need to get with the cat fountains, so that’s next — glares at universe.

Right?
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So, below (far, far below) is what I think will be my next glass attempt, to work on my cutting and also to use some of the scraps. Also, if I decide to get Really Crazy, I can just keep going up.

In other news, today was the Magic Medical Day. I have the MRI scheduled and an audiology appointment. This of course means that December is filling up with medical appointments, but here we are.

I am relieved to report that the cat fountains have been changed out, though I still need to wash the fiddly bits, my other duty to the cats has been performed, and I ate lunch, too!

It has gotten later sooner than I had expected, so my next thing will be to thread my needles for tonight’s meeting.

I have downloaded the book club book (The Thursday Murder Club, for those who missed the big announcement yesterday), but I have Ghost Army of WWII queued up on the tablet for my next read.

Also! It’s November which means I need to decide if I’m doing a Yule Letter this year.

And I still need to do the form for Adult Ed. That may have to happen tomorrow evening.

Whee!

Is everybody having fun?

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So, when I went over to my instructor’s house to finish my project, and I saw how many places I had missed covering the copper, I realized that it’s a little too dim in Foosball Studio. I have thus purchased (yet another) Verilux task lamp (this one is a twofer: Task light and Happy Light) — it will go in Steve’s office and the repaired so-called smart light that’s currently in Steve’s office will go into the studio. I also bought a “beginner” happy light for my office, because I cannot afford — that’s literally “afford” — to get depressed, and the way I’m feeling about the encroaching winter — it seemed like a reasonable precaution.
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WEDNESDAY
So, I’m home, having had small-a adventures, which made for a pleasantish time. I had the first appointment for the car’s annual inspection, and the putting on of the new plates. A couple of filters needed to be replaced “next time for sure,” but I told them to do it now, since I was all settled in, and! had a coupon, so that happened.

After, I went down to Water Street in downtown Augusta and had breakfast at Dave’s, which I’ve never been to. Perfectly fine diner food, quick cheerful service, lots of customers, nailed a window seat. Will return. It’s one of my challenges, as I go forward, finding places Steve and I did not go to regularly, so Dave’s was a good discovery.

After breakfast, I backtracked to Manchester and Stained Glass Express, where I took on glass, tools, oil, but NOT a grinder, which are — ow. It turns out that I can rent a studio at Glass Express when a studio is empty, and use all the tools there, so the Plan is to cut out my pieces, then gather them together and grind them all at once.

After my /s/p/e/n/d/i/n/g /s/p/r/e/e needful art shopping, I went over to Longfellow’s Greenhouse and Gift Emporium, where I found a vacuum bottle (which I’ve been looking for). Now I can make a bottle of tea and take it back to Steve’s office with me, so I don’t have to interrupt myself to walk to the front of the house to make another mugful (YES, this is a First World Problem, and I’m glad I solved it), and some lavender soap, because — lavender soap — and a cardinal to hang in Steve’s office. They are ALL Christmased up at Longfellow’s.

After frivolous shopping, I went to Lowe’s to get my long-delayed ceiling/art tile, now that a kind friend helped me to understand what, exactly, I wanted. Then I hit the Cony Street Hannaford, and home again, where?

It’s dern near lunch time.

I’ll get with that in a minute, but first I want to tell you about a Strange Thing that happened on my way home from needlework last night.

It was of course Dark at 6:30 and I was on my way home, no cars ahead of me (of this, I am certain, and so is the Subaru nanny), when suddenly, with no one turning into the road, there was an SUV in front of me. “Wow,” I thought, “I am really tired not to have noticed there was somebody in front of me. This could have gone badly.”

And about the time I finished chastising myself, a cop car came up behind me, lights flashing. I pulled over. The car in front of me pulled over, and cop pulled in right behind them.

I pulled out and continued home, arriving at the corner where the CVS is, where there were several more cop cars in the parking lot, lights flashing and several SUVs that had apparently been pulled in.

. . . which is when I began to entertain the theory that the car which had suddenly appeared ahead of me had been running without its lights in order to Not Be Noticed.

That now off my chest, I’m gonna go see what’s for lunch. I defrosted a couple pieces of pork and I have some frozen skillet veggies, so that may be the way to go.

How’s everybody doing today?
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A call was made for a picture of Steve’s new cardinal, which is below. The new cardinal is hanging up; it’s made of tin. I gave the reindeer to Steve for Christmas manymany years ago. The black cat was a gift from someone else, and the ornament in the foreground is made out of paper and lights up. Once Sharon finds a battery for it.

I’m feeling kinda tired, so the Plan for the rest of the day is to go down to the studio to make room on the workbench for the new project before I crash, then come upstairs and do paperwork.

Tomorrow will be a writing day.
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Ready for action. First step is to cut out my pattern pieces, but I can do that upstairs. After I finish my course description and return a contact.

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I?
Am a Tired Woman. However! I am a Tired Woman who has managed to get all the paperwork out of here, and may therefore write tomorrow and Friday and Saturday with impunity.

After I sleep for nine hours.

I did start to handwrite the holiday letter while I was waiting for the car, but that doesn’t really have a drop-deadline on it. My feeling is that the holiday letter can arrive as late as January 2 and still be legitimate.

So! Writing Rules are now in force. I may peek in Occasionally and at Odd Hours over the next three days — or I may not. Default assumption ought to be that I’m working. Which is a good thing.

Everybody take care. Stay comfy. Hug the people you love.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by 38 Special, “If I’d been the one“

Tuesday, with dinosaurs

Dinosaurs first:

Well, that was a surprise. One thousand five hundred new words between Jen Sin and the Uncle.

I have tasted the Hiberian Breakfast tea, and it was pleasant; a step up in whatever it is I seek in tea from the standard Irish Breakfast.

I then had a cup of Scottish Morn, which — may not have been wise. That’s — yeah. Quite a cup of tea. I’ll give it a chance on its own in a couple of days. Might be I’ll have to put milk in it, something I never thought I’d be doing.

Dental appointment at 1 pm, after, and depending on the state of the predicted “rain and snow,” I have a couple of errands, including the grocery, then back home and I’ll see where I am about what. It might be Enola Holmes tonight. I didn’t watch anything last night in favor of reading an article about old people “embracing” the single living lifestyle, which was — ultimately unenlightening. The article affected some astonishment regarding the fact that widowed men are more likely to remarry than widowed women. Which I find Not Surprising At All, though I have friends both male and female who have remarried after losing a spouse.

USPS would like me to believe that I am getting two deliveries from itself today. I will be surprised if that happens.

And I think that’s all the news from here. The cats all trooped back to Steve’s office with me this morning, took up their comfy spots, and I think that’s where they all still are.

I think that’s it for me. What’s it for you?

Come and take a little walk with me, baby, and tell me —

Q: How many witches does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Into what?
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Tuesday.

So that wasn’t much fun. The nerve-zapping-via-electrodes was…disconcerting. The insertion of the thin needles was downright upsetting. However! we lucked in that my patience and the number of needles to be inserted came to an end at the same time.

After, I went to Bleeker and Greer, had an early lunch of ham quiche and mocha (yes, yes — indulge me) then came home via Camden, Northport, Belfast.

I’m going to have a snack and get myself in gear to go out to needlework in a couple hours.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Lonesome George Thorogood, signing Bo Diddley, and coincidentally the song I heard three times today on three different stations. “Who do you love?”

Below, Park Row, in Northport, Maine.

Friday night roundup

What went before: Errands always take longer than you think they will. However! I have accomplished all my errands.

err. except going to the grocery store.

Which I will be doing! Just as soon as I finish eating the cottage cheese and pretzel that I’m calling by the pet name of “lunch” today.

The guy at SBS said that I was the third stained glass person in on the day, so — good to see we’re all on the case.

The creperie is … difficult for me to understand, and expensive. So I’ll try again some other time.

And that’s all the news that’s fit to print at the mom– Oh. I have an Informed Delivery note from the USPS — news of a package due four days out.

Rookie, by the way, doesn’t think that I need to go away for hours just to come home stinking of D.O.G. eeewwww! (SBS has two resident Big, Friendly Dogs, who were Very Interested in me and happy to provide Vitamin Dog, and we all know that it’s rude to turn down freely-offered Vitamin Dog.)

And that really is it.

Off to the grocery store I go!
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Helping me read:
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The day didn’t go exactly as planned, but! I wrote 545 new words, bringing the WIP entire to +/-89,500 words. And I did eventually do all my errands. And Sarah left the house nice and clean.

I was addressed as “sir” in Reny’s by a woman who was horrified and more apologetic than strictly necessary. She had just seen my hair, she said, and, and my shirt, and she had just made an assumption and ohmighod so very, very sorry MA’AM.

And one more argument against the proposition that you can just tell what people “are” by looking at them.

My “business desk” looks like a bomb hit it, but that’s at least partly the printout of the material that didn’t go through yesterday. I can apparently submit via paper, and I’m trying to decide if that will introduce more Room For Error. No HUGE rush, I guess, but I’d like to get it outta here.

I should probably come back after Happy Hour to put the desk into some kind of order. Or, yanno, not. I hate the feeling that I’m falling behind, and behinder. I’m pretty sure I’m not, but I depended on Steve to make those calibrations for me — really depended; I never learned how to do it for myself. I mean, I can — and do — write down the tasks in hand and their deadlines, look at them, and the calendar, and intellectually understand that I’ve got plenty of time, but the panic-maker never stops running around inside my head, yelling, “Holy freaking ghod, you’ve got So. Much. To. Do. You’re never going to get all this done, and then everything will fall apart, and what will happen to the cats, and, and, and. . . ”

Stoopid brain.

It just about is Happy Hour and I’ll at least be pouring myself a glass of wine in celebration of having gotten through today.

Tomorrow evening, I’m going to a magic show (Yes, I am. Stop it, Brain.), which I hope will be fun. I haven’t been to a magic show in ages. In fact, I think the last time was at Messalonskee High, approximately a hundred million years ago.

Before I go serve out Happy Hour, I want to share a photo. When Belle died Sara Oseasohn did a pastel portrait of her. Steve hung it on the wall in the living room, near the cat tree. Sara very kindly sent me a portrait of Trooper, which arrived today. I just hung it up. Pic below — not a good one, but the glass and the lighting kinda stretched my photography skills to the max.

And on that note! Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

We are the keepers of several curses

What went before: One thousand seven hundred and thirty-ish new words, and some plotting. Tomorrow is not looking like a good day to write, and in fact, it may be that Tuesday will simply become a Business Day, since needlework is at 5.

I read 70 pages of proofs, go, me.

I did a little more research into the Braiding thing, and I will not be attending. I had somehow had a picture of people sitting in a circle perhaps, braiding brightly colored string or ribbon or yarn, and telling whatever story arose when it was your turn to tell. It sounded nice, in my head, restful, and intimate.

This is actually not what happens. I mean, there’s a bit where people are encouraged to record their stories. But what they’ll be braiding is hair. And the braids made during the session will be incorporated into a braid sculpture created by the leader of the event, and that? Doesn’t appeal to me at all.

So! I won’t be braiding. I’ll look at the schedule to see if there’s anything else that seems interesting, or maybe, yanno, I’ll just stay home on First Friday. It’s not like I don’t have stuff to do.

It’s dark already, here at 7pm Eastern (US), and I’m really dreading the closing in of the dark. After work — right after Coon Cat Happy Hour — was Us Time for Steve and me. We shared a meal, and wine, played a game — or two — or just read together, catching each other up in comments and in silence. I really, really miss that, and I can’t seem to find anything to fill the empty space that is . . . calm and satisfying. It may get better, once I get at least two of the four writing and writing-adjacent projects out of the way, and can read in the evening again. Right now, I can’t do that, because my day has been filled with too many words already, and my head is ringing with them.

Anyhow.

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

Tuesday. Blue skies, high, puffy white clouds. Chilly it begins and chilly it shall remain.

Trash and recycling have made it to the curb. First cup of tea to hand. I should find something to eat for breakfast. Eh. Tea and free association first.

The first two pair of jeans I put on this morning slipped right off before I could even put anything in the pockets, so I guess 38X34 is no longer a thing. Happily, I have several pairs of 36X34, which are a little loose, but that’s what belts and tuck-in shirts are for.

This morning, after breakfast, another trek to the hospital, for xray and blood draw. Possibly meeting a friend for lunch and a hand-off that’s been months in the making.

Needlework at 5.

Somewhere in-between there, I ought to do business things and read some page proofs. Check.

Today . . . Today is September 30, the day before The Game officially begins. As you are aware, last year I did not play. As you are also aware, the Openers won.

I am this year enlisting on the side of the Closers, and will commence my participation tonight with: “I am a watchdog. My name is Snuff.”

Who’s with me?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Roger Zelazny, A Night in the Lonesome October, 1993, Avon Books.

Soldier on, only you can do what must be done

Up betimes because there were pony races in the hall, followed by a sound that my sleeping mind identified as “That’s not right.”

And, indeed, it wasn’t right. Steve has a piece of burlap hanging in his office with various convention badges and buttons appended thereto. And Rookie Too-Smart had gotten one of the badges down with its lanyard and had run it down the hall to put by the bed, so I’d be sure to see it, first thing.

Sigh.

What a good boy.

Tea brewing. And look! I have an extra couple hours to write!

And how’s Monday starting out for you?
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Supervisors on duty:

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Small break to refill the Yeti with water and confuse the cats.

Not quite as focused on the writing this morning as I have been. I did write +/-865 words, and I intend to go back and at least plot out — I use this term both loosely and idiosyncratically — the scenes that are missing. Very few of those, now, which is — I have no idea how this book is happening, but it’s managing to come together, and, yanno — I’m only the writer. Nobody tells me anything.

I really want to just continue writing today, absent breaks for staging the trash, and doing my duty to the cats, and my brain is telling me I could just call in a veggie burger from Five Guys and that would be efficient, which suggestion is entered as evidence for why I don’t trust my brain.

As I said, I wasn’t laser-focused this morning. For instance, I bought a slip-proof mat for my keyboard, since Steve’s desk is VERY slidey. I also signed up for braiding and storytelling at First Friday, reasoning that, if I have something to actually attend on First Friday, the whole affair will make more sense to me.

The addition of the braiding made me realize that I suddenly have lots going on this week, For Values Of. Tomorrow evening, needlework; Thursday evening, my first stained glass class; Friday evening, the braiding thing; Saturday, Magic Rocks. I should also get (another!) blood test and a back xray. I can do the back xray tomorrow, but I’m a little leery about another blood test, even though this one isn’t fasting, and shouldn’t require more than one vial.

The above is also an illustration of why I don’t take every weekend “off” — I tend to decide to do things whenever, since writing is, to a certain point at least, malleable.

So, that. And I guess, while I’m up, I might as well perform my duty to the cats and get the trash and recycling into the garage for tomorrow.

So, I see that the Reimagined United States now has autodocs? And special hospitals that are only filled with autodocs — excuse me — “Med Beds” (gags), and there’s one with my name on it, probably in Solcintra, but, hey, it’s the thought…

How’s everybody at more or less midday (Eastern US) Monday?

Today’s blog post brought to you by John Parr, “St. Elmo’s Fire“

Crafty Saturday

Going to the craft fair.

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Swag has been taken on.

Also, I may have a source for Tree-and-Dragon cameos. Which might be of interest.

A word about the swag. The cobwebby thing is a shapechanger. I don’t know its actual name. If you manipulate the wand, you can change the relation of the webs to each other, and if you pick it up and hold it in various positions, you have either a flower or an umbrella, or, if you spin it, you can acquire webs again. It’s amusing, for some reason. Also, the pine cone leaning against the mug is made entirely of brown sea glass found on Maine islands, and gathered by the artist.

So the craft fair. It was fun. I want credit for not coming home with the four foot knitted dragon, or any of the many hand-pets present.

Only a couple people shied away from my mixed media outfit — Steve’s leather vest over a purple mock-neck, utility jeans, and pretty silver jewelry, and one person gets a star because I had gone out to the car to get a bag after my first pass through the fair, and it had gotten warm enough that I didn’t need the vest, so I left it behind, and! when I went past this particular table on the second pass and said, “Hello, again,” she said, “I thought you looked familiar, but you were wearing a leather coat before.”

I am presently making cornbread, because I’ve been wanting cornbread for months and I know better than store-bought, and as soon as that’s done, it will become part of my mid-day meal, which I’m suspecting will be leftover chili. The afternoon will be dedicated to writing, as I have, like, three scenes in my head that are clamoring for attention.

Saw my lovely neighbors outside when I came back, and had a chat. They’re having tree work done, and I told them the story of the four ghostly arborists, so they will be calling their arborist, with whom they have a long standing relationship, and adding my trees to the list, and have him come out to take a look. Then, they screwed down a warped board on my front steps and fixed the screen door.

I have The Best Neighbors.

And! The oven just beeped. Best get the cornbread in.

I should also give an honorable mention to the person who — and her voice was not exactly steady when she said this, “Your jewelry is very pretty.” Also! Bruce? I think it was Bruce. Who delivered Vitamin Dog with Great Gusto.

One thousand three hundred eleven new words. Give or take. At some point, I need to get with the master file and see where that gets us in a words-to-story kind of way.

Also read +/- 50 pages of page proofs for Diviner’s Bow mmp.

The cats are at Happy Hour and I am a tired woman. Going out, seeing the neighbors, and spending money is fun, but expensive of energy. Not to mention the other stuff.

Tomorrow, I resume the get up and get writin’ schedule.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.