Tag: reading

Dumplings for lunch

What went before: Did some handwritten work; tomorrow I’ll be typing. I still haven’t figured out who XX are, but I’m sure they’ll tell me bye-n-bye.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served up; I’ve got a couple more things to do, then I’ll be pouring a glass of wine.

Everybody have a good evening; stay safe. I ‘ll see you tomorrow.

Oh. For some reason, this got kicked up by the photo program — this would be me on my 61st birthday at The Lindsey House B&B in Rockland Maine. FWIW.

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Thursday. Sunny and warm. Thunderstorms called for, later, with hail.

Breakfast was cream cheese on an English muffin with grapes on the side. I am back from the chiropractor, and thought I was in for the weekend, but! There’s a Dumpling Truck at the KMD Food Truck Court today, and — it just might be that I’ll have to go out again in a few. We’ll see. I mean; it’s not like I don’t have food. OTOH — dumplings.

Today, I do intend to devote most of my time to writing, dumplings or no dumplings. Tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday will be more of the same. I know what I’m doing first off, so — all good there.

I spent some time with my Garmin Watch this morning, and to hear it tell the tale, I live a Very Stressful Life. Which I’m supposing is not impossible, Given Everything. It’s worth noting that the days when I’m, err, less stressed, are days when I’m writing, so — I’m going with that.

Tali’s fan club will be happy to know that I’ve finally found a brush that Tali likes; she was purring the whole time, and even turned over for me, so I could brush her belly.

In other news, I’m listening to Faking It by Jennifer Crusie. I’m having an OK time with it, but something about the narration itches at me. Maybe some books just aren’t meant to be read aloud? Though Steve read it to me when I was being bathed in the energy of one thousand angry suns every day. OTOH — I found Steve’s voice soothing.

My reading is A Gentleman of Questionable Judgment, the 9th Lord Julian novel, which I had somehow missed, so now catching up.

. . . and, yeah; I’m for dumplings. I was going to have stir-fry chicken and veggies for lunch, anyhow. Dumplings will go great. And it’s not like they can’t be steamed and heated up for later.

See me convince myself?

So — who has a long weekend coming up? Plans?

Sometime Later:  The chicken and mushroom dumplings are to die for.

And the lavender honey latte is good, too.

Yeah, I went crazy.

It’s summer. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Here’s a picture of Tali, post-brushing, and the boys, Judging me:

 

The eyes of Texas are upon you, til Gabriel blows his horn

Wednesday. Cloudy and warm, though not expected to be as warm as yesterday.

Breakfast was cream cheese on rice crackers with the last of the cherries. I’ll stop briefly at the grocery store for more fruit after I see the chiropractor. Lunch will be quiche and salad.

For those who want to see the pieces I made yesterday — waiting is. Glass needs time to cool after it’s been worked in flame, and the way you cool it is to put it into an annealing oven, which has an internal temp of 1100F/593C, and is then sssslllllooooooowwwwly brought down until the glass can safely come out into the shared atmosphere. If you just leave hot glass sitting out, the various bits will cool unevenly and nine times out of ten, your piece will break.

So! I will be picking my puffin and my marble up on Thursday afternoon, after Ashley has been and done, and I will share images at that time.

I finished listening to The Masqueraders last night. It has long been one of my favorite books — I am, with all the world, at the old gentleman’s feet. I want to say that it was a privilege to hear him scold his son and his servant for meddling in! HIS! plans! I fear I laughed so loud, I scared the cats.

Today, I have a couple of phone calls to make and the aforesaid visit to the chiropractor. After lunch, I plan on doing some writing, as one does.

I think that’s all I’ve got — oh. No, it isn’t. No, we could not have just left Vyr out. He was not — why do people say this? — there to “pad out” the book, but, indeed illustrated several important points, tied some threads, and moved the story along.

Here’s a Writing Exercise for those who don’t believe me: Retype the book, but leave Vyr’s line out. Read the amended book and note the waving ends of plot threads that the inclusion of Vyr tied off.

And that really is all I’ve got — oh. the lawn guy’s here.

Have some roses — and! Who has plans today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Elvis Presley, “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

The untranslated stars

We have traversed the Longest Day and emerged from the Shortest Night.

Winter is coming.

What came before: All righty, then. Coming up on Coon Cat Happy Hour and I will be joining them this evening.

Following is Facebook housekeeping; not applicable to those reading on other platforms.

Thanks to everyone who has explained to me that Boosting = I pay money to FB. That will not be happening. As to FB giving me money, I don’t recall ever handing over anything like a Paypal link or a bank account number to Corporate, so that’s unlikely to happen, as well.

What I believe I will do is crosspost to groups for a week, and then call a vote. Someone made the very valid point that there are people who only want the Official News, and someone else made the equally valid point that it’s easy enough to skip the personal crossposts. Since I don’t want the Official News people to skip over the stuff they want because I’ve taught them my posts are Mere Nattering, the try-it-and-evaluate system seems reasonable.

ENDS Facebook housekeeping

Writing has happened. Yet Another Chapter-by-Chapter has been put together; some old words have been polished and rearranged. I’m really looking forward to getting to a place where new! words! can happen, but we ain’t there yet.

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

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

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Saturday. Sunny and heading for +/-80F/27C. The curtains are selectively open in my office, and the heat pump is already at work.

Slept in, because by the time I went to bed last night, I was exhausted. Chapter-by-Chapter is a Very Useful Tool, but it does take a toll on the brain.

Breakfast was oatmeal and tea. Pork chop and baked beans on-deck for lunch.

We here in Central Maine tremble before an Extreme Heat Watch, said Extreme Heat projected for Tuesday, when heat indexes are expected to approach 105F/40C. The weatherbeans are fair dancing in their excitement. They do so love their Wild Weather.

In news unrelated to anything at all, Perry Wink and his bunny sidekick are visiting Vancouver, where it’s presently drizzling and 52F/11C. Perry is planning to attend the Teddy Bear Picnic in St. Andrews Park this afternoon. If you see him, say hi.

I’m currently reading two books. The first is a fascinating research paper recommended by Alex Picard — Everyone Here Spoke Sign Language, by Nora Ellen Groce, a study of hereditary deafness on Martha’s Vineyard. The second book is The Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer, which I’m having read to me by Eleanor Yates.

In viewing news, I watched the first episode of the second season of Ncuti Gatwa’s Dr. Who a couple days ago. P’rhaps I’ll make space to watch the second this weekend. I must say that Mr. Davies spares no one his scorn in the matter of villains. I’m still trying to settle in my own mind if that’s a bug or a feature.

I spent a little bit of time staring at Cap’n Fish’s website yesterday, but the moving parts defeated me, which means I’ll be shelving that for the present, and will therefore have a treat to look forward to in future.

And that? Is all I’ve got. Today is also a writing day, so I’d better get to it.

What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title courtesy of e e cummings, “Summer Silence.”

If wishes were fishes…

What went before: So! Two-thirds packed in clothes. After I finish this letter to the internets, I will finish getting the laptop prepped and packed.

Or — a sort of productive day with intermittent flashes of: I can’t do this/Who thought this was a good idea?/I am going to get so lost/I’m going to forget my speech/and several other variations on We’re All Gonna Die. I wish my brain wouldn’t do this, but if wishes were fishes, we’d all be eatin’ chowdah.

Tomorrow: Early doctor appointment; possibly wash car on the way home; update the prices of books at Amazon; change out the cat fountains; pack the Big Bag with Con Clothes &c. Honestly, I have about ninety bags to take with me, each one embodying A Thought (for instance, I have bottles of distilled water to feed the CPAP machine — in a beverage bag). Perhaps I’ll be able to consolidate some thoughts. If not — ninety bags it is. The Subaru is commodious, or, in the local dialect, “You can fit two men anna boy back there.”

On that note: Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Monday. Dim, cool, and damp.

It took forever at the doctor’s office, which, given that the hospital is closing down around them I guess was to be expected.

I did eat a cheese sandwich before I went, and that turned out to be a good call. Cup of tea brewing and, yes, I do believe I will be having an oatmeal cookie with that. Or two.

Next up is updating the cover prices on those books that are, according to the Wisdom of the River, underpriced.

After that, I’ll swap out the cat fountains, and then I’ll start in packing the Big Bag, and trying to make some order on my desk, so I don’t come home to Compleat Chaos.

Oh. And I need to call the practice in Bath to find out what their preferred format for receiving my health records from Inland might be.

I should also look at the TBR pile on my tablet, to make sure I have enough to read while I’m away, given that I’ll probably finish the Earl this evening.

So, that’s the shape of my day.

What’s the shape of yours?

It pains me to report that Young Rookie Transgressed yesterday evening and pushed Tali off of the cedar chest, Just Because He Could.  Tali left, came back with reinforcements and A Chat ensued, which included Staring, Smiting, and Being Utterly Unimpressed with Upstart Voids, no matter how cute.

Sunday clean-up

What went before: So Ron Currie’s presentation at the library was interesting. He spoke and read to a Very Full Room of appreciative readers. He chose to talk about culture, history, what motivated him to write the book, and to set it in Waterville’s South End, which was at the time the book is set, largely French. It was a good talk; I learned things. So! An afternoon well-spent.

Came home to answer some correspondence, and now? I’m kinda beat for some reason, so I believe I will leave the form that arrived in today’s mail for a Sunday activity, perhaps with my second mug of tea — flips through questionnaire. Ah. My second and third mugs of tea.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Rainy and cool. Argh.

Breakfast was oatmeal with cranberries and walnuts, second cup of tea in process. Lunch will be a fish sammich with, um — grapes.

First thing on the day’s agenda is Basement Cleanup and Cat Box Change Out. After, I can look forward to a lovely hot shower, a pair of soft old jeans, a sweatshirt, and! A lengthy medical form to fill out. I think I have enough milk to make a mug of hot chocolate, if I really want to get decadent.

I also want to finish getting the laptop updated and the duffel bag with my Corning Adventure Clothes packed (the overnight bag for Cooperstown is all set to go). That will leave the Big Wheeled Convention Bag to be sorted out, and a cooler to pack. I should maybe run the car through the car wash, too, just for fun.

All four cats visited me at the breakfast table, as I sipped my first mug of tea and redecorated Perry Wink’s house in Finch. Perry and the pig will be finishing up their tour of the Rain Forest tomorrow, which is the day the pig becomes an adult. I need to decide which “pet” to bring to adult next, or if I’m just going to grab one of the cats send Perry to New York City.

The “pets” in this game, I just … I got a PILE OF ROCKS for a “pet.” I don’t know who needs to hear this, but a PILE OF ROCKS is not a “pet.” It is either a pile of rocks, a portal to another space/time location, or a conduit for magic. That’s it; those are your choices, and you seek to make any of those into a pet at your very great peril.

Yeah, I gave the rocks back.

So, I’m reading The Elusive Earl and Everyone Here Spoke Sign Language. Everyone… continues to fascinate, but I’m getting a little Impatient with the Earl. I liked The Mysterious Marquess, despite the, um, airiness. The chemistry between Lucian and Penelope, the charm of the family that had worked out how to go on even with the head of the household long absent produced a comfortable feel-good air. I was happy while I was reading it, and that’s all we ask of any book.

The Earl, however — not nearly as charming in the telling; I don’t feel the frisson between the leads. It broods, this book. Also, there seems to be an actual murder, if not several murders, to be balanced. Perhaps it’s Scotland. Macbeth has a lot to answer for.

And — fair being fair — I had somewhat assumed that this book would bestow some well-earned good fortune upon our friend the Heir Finder, and I’m somewhat disappointed to learn that this will probably not be happening, at least in this book. I suppose there are still more heirs to find.

I think that’s all I’ve got for the moment; my tea is gone; the skies have opened, and I? have a basement to clean.

What’re you doing today?

Damp and Dim for the Win

What went before: Had a lovely and informative chat with Alex Picard, the narrator for the Ribbon Dance audiobook (coming to you in August!). She was kind enough to suggest the title of a nonfiction book about the deaf communities on Martha’s Vineyard, backaways — Everyone here spoke sign language: Heredity deafness on Martha’s Vineyard, by Nora Ellen Groce — I’m on page 6 and already fascinated.

I also remembered that when we were going on a long road trip, Steve used to take on those tuna lunch packs — which just about saved our lives on two separate train trips over the years — when the train was so late, the various on-board provisioners not only ran out of food, they ran out of booze — so I went out and grabbed some of the tuna things, because Murphy is real, and his Law is the great leveler.

Losing Steve really did tear my brain in half. My memory has never been my most robust mental function, and it’s just gone to wood shavings on some stuff. I’m glad I decided to pack slow, because the act of getting things together to go to a convention is kicking Old Habits to the surface. I guess I should also say, if I don’t immediately remember you at the con — it’s me, not you, and the Ghods of Conventions in Their infinite wisdom give us name tags for a reason.

Tomorrow, I’m taking a break in the early afternoon to go to the library and listen to Ron Currie read from The Savage Noble Death of Babs Dionne. Before and after, I’ll continue to do those chores that will make coming home easier, putter at my packing, study the maps/routes. And not freak out. That’s very important. I even wrote it on the to-do list.

Right now, the first 194 pages of the current WIP is printing out, so I’ll have that ready to read and get back into the right headspace.

It got Quite Warm today; tomorrow is supposed to be significantly cooler, though still springlike.

The coon cats have had their Happy Hour, and are each sitting in an open window, admiring the evening breeze (not the bathroom window — they’re using the Considerably Safer crank windows, in my office).

And that’s the news from the Cat Farm.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

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Saturday. Damp and dim. Which really ought to be the name of my next band. Or — I dunno. Maybe Damp and Dim reported on those Sites that Wu and Fabricant deemed not worth their time? Though if Wu and Fabricant wrote an entry on Star Well…

… and now you know why writers stare out of windows.

All righty, then! Breakfast was sausage patty and cheese on a buttermilk biscuit, with grapes. I Regret Nothing. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch is in question, because of the timing of the reading at the library. I will not starve, and honestly? This opens up the possibility of ice cream.

Quitting time got a little extended last night due to Shenanigans on the part of Steve’s printer. By the time I was done clearing paper jams, I was, frankly, beat. Firefly put in a Very Clear Request for reading in bed, so we read read The Elusive Earl until I fell asleep.

Speaking of updates from the road! I will of course have my laptop with me, and I’ll be able to update to Facebook, but I won’t be able to update my blog at sharonleewriter, which is where I point people to for daily updates.

The Plan at the moment is to post to Patreon and set access to Public. This would be easiest for me, and I’ll test the proposition today, to see if Public is, indeed, accessible to anyone who wanders by, and if said merry wanderers of the internets may leave comments.

UPDATE: Only PAID members may comment on public posts, says Patreon, which may actually be the best path, as the moderator will be engaging in Other Activities.

So! Who has Plans today?

Damp and Dim cat census:

Well the cops busted Madame Marie for tellin’ fortunes better’n they do

What went before:  So, a low-key day. I did some This, some That, read, put the finished sampler into the embroidery book, ironed some con clothes. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll wear black-and-grey, or black-and-maroon for Opening Ceremonies, a decision I can put off for a few days yet, as both outfits will be coming with me.

For those who are coming to BaltiCon — I have Interesting News. We have a possible location for the Stuffed Animal Tea, but! We don’t have a time or day. So, at this point, it’s kind of a Heisenberg Tea. More news will be forthcoming, possibly on Wednesday. As soon as I know something firm (bearing in mind that I will be spending a large amount of Wednesday and Thursday driving), I’ll let y’all know.

We’re getting up toward ASL time, and I still need to close the windows.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

#

Friday. Dim and damp.

Letters dispatched. Finished reading The Mysterious Marquess, and have pulled The Elusive Earl up for tonight’s reading, unless it turns out to be a Dr. Who night. Zoom call upcoming, and a couple other such things as people are suddenly realizing that I’m going to be away. Laundry needs to be sorted, laptop charged and systems brought up to date

I have more this ‘n that to do, including puzzling out some bits for the book after the current WIP, which may not be Jethri after all, if I’m gonna do mumblemumble with the current WIP, which I think may be Forced, given that I need to at least produce a soft landing, if not a Hard Wrap Up, and there are only three books remaining under contract (Current WIP, WIP After, Jethri Big Finish). And now you know why writers stare out of windows.

I’m slowly remembering the convention traditions — pins, con clothes, tote bag, pens, ribbons, badge jewelry… For those who are coming to the con, I will have with me some “I Met Steve Miller” ribbons, so that those present who had, in fact, met Steve Miller may acknowledge that connection.

The cats are being very snuggly and maybe even a little clingy, which I’m guessing the memo I sent out has hit. If the teleporter worked, I’d bring them with me, but the geezinfluke is still on backorder.

I think that’s most of what’s going on here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title courtesy of Mr. Bruce Springsteen, “4th of July, Asbury Park”

After breakfast cat census:

In which the writer is not a cinephile

First things first:  This is for the purposes of planning the Friends of Liad Breakfast on Saturday morning of  Balticon at 8:45 am

If you are planning to attend the breakfast (you do not need to be a member of the con to come to breakfast): say “Yes” in comments.

Things you need to know about the Friends of Liad Breakfast:  (1) This is a family gathering to catch up with each other and news. Everybody pays for their own breakfast.  (2) It is not a con event.

Go!

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What went before ONE: Old/new snippet: “Was that too long?” Theo snapped, worry sublimating into temper by a process he understood intimately. “You smashed the rack-and-tile array with a starbar. The doc had to do repairs at the cellular level! You should be dead, except you got lucky.”

Lucky. Of course, he had gotten lucky.

What went before TWO: So, lost +/-230 words on the day, bringing the total WIP to 34,440, more or less. And! I have a follow to a new scene that did not appear in Salvage Right, and which will address something that we glossed over in Salvage Right because deadline and if we kept on going we’d have written a 200,000 word book and, just — no.

There are already /1/0 15 people who say they’ll be attending the Saturday morning Friends of Liad breakfast at BaltiCon. Hoping the in-house restaurant is more amenable to reservations than the Boskone hotel, which, the last time Steve and I hosted a FOL breakfast, adamantly refused to take a reservation, and therefore doomed themselves to constantly rearranging the room for two hours, as folks kept arriving.

I am scheduled to be interviewed at 11:30 on Saturday at the con, according to the Less Drafty Schedule, so that’s something else to bear in mind.

Trooper was unfortunately messily ill this morning, which means that there will be no Happy Hour this evening. Because explaining to cats that they need to not gorge on gooshy food because it will make them sick isn’t exactly an Easy Sell, I think I will be on the couch watching Dr. Who and ignoring the protests of felines whose throats have been cut, rather than trying to read, or write, or do ASL homework.

And that’s all I’ve got on the day.

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Saturday. The ‘beans claim it’s raining. The weather over the Long Back Yard is mostly sunny and a trifle cool. I’ve set the Awesome Chair up on the deck.

Breakfast was a ham and cheese sandwich (which finishes the ham, which I am now tired of, so it will be easier — for a while, anyway — to resist temptation) and veggie chips. Yes, that does sound like lunch. Actual lunch will be quiche and salad.

Thanks to everyone who pitched in on the name of the movie. Kill Bill it was. Nasty piece of work. Bearing in mind that I also did not think Thelma and Louise was “funny.” I think I may have mentioned that I am not the person they make movies for.

Speaking of movies, I watched The Church on Ruby Road, and the difference between now and 1997 is … wow. The cats all joined me, and we had a lovely viewing. Firefly has already asked that we do it again this evening, so I’ve got that inked in.

I stayed up a bit late last night, to finish The Teller of Small Fortunes. I also made the executive decision not to finish the book club book. This is slightly awkward, because I’m going to listen to the author read from this book in a week or two. OTOH, there always exists the possibility that I’m reading it wrong — reading protocols are A Thing, after all — and that the author’s performance will inform me.

Having gone to bed late, I slept late, and woke up to the realization that I need to start Making Lists for my upcoming perambulations, and for my duties to the con. Since I will apparently not be doing itinerant readings, I think I will read Blays and Majel’s Excellent Adventure officially, and perhaps carry with me “The Last Train to Clarkesville,” in case there’s another opportunity to just sit and read for an hour (it’s a long story).

This still leaves me with packing (1) the big suitcase full of con stuff and (2) the duffel bag, for my mini-vacay on the way home. I have engaged one of those apartmenty things, with a kitchen, and there’s a Wegman’s somewhere in Corning which I’ll try to hit before I check in. I have my tickets for two days at the museum, and two classes booked — one at the museum, and one at a studio in-town.

I still need to come to terms with how to get out of Baltimore. I’m thinking that Steve and I left BaltiCon 50 at, like, 4 o’clock in the morning and just shot out the Jones Falls well ahead of rush hour. That may be my best plan.

Today, I intend, mostly, to write. I have a few chores, as per usual, and one’s duty to the cats, and I will honor Firefly’s request for Moar Dr. Who. Oh, and I have to find something to read. I think I have the most recent Sebastian St. Cyr in the electronic TBR pile, the second Bad Heirs, a couple of cozies, and a Celia Lake to test drive. Yeah, I won’t starve.

What’s everybody reading today?

Oh. There are four cats in my office.

I want to fly like an eagle, to the sea

Friday. Rainy and cool.

Breakfast is rice crackers, cream cheese, applesauce. Waiting for my tea to brew.

I need some things at the grocery. The jury is still out whether I’ll get them in town or in Belfast. There’s a Reny’s in Belfast, which may tip the scales.

So, yesterday was very strange. At one point, I was running a (minor) fever, and I just felt — unwell. I cancelled out of ASL class, which was a bummer, but might as well not give whatever it was — assuming it was giftable — to my classmates.

This morning I feel — OK. No fever. Not so exhausted I can barely drag my tail downstairs to perform one’s duty to the cats.

So, that’s all good.

I have a less-drafty schedule from BaltiCon Programming (The final schedule may happen next week. Maybe.). There is room on Saturday morning for a FOL breakfast at — eh? 8? 8:30? 9? We will not be having a Stuffed Animal Tea, unless I can work something out with either the consuite or the Green Room, so, yanno, watch the skies.

In other news, the WIP now weighs in at 34,667 words, which looks like Holy Smoke! That woman wrote yesterday!, but is mostly cut ‘n pasting/minor reworking from Salvage Right.

This is a matter of +/-3400 words, and will likely be less as soon as I get smart enough to figure out how to further streamline the needed action while providing Necessary Context. In a +\-100,000 word novel, this is Very Small Potatoes. Nonetheless, I anticipate hearing from the folks who howled their heads off, asserting that half of Mouse and Dragon was “nothing but” the ending of Scout’s Progress, and they were thereby Cheated. I suspect that this unhappy anticipation is what has kept me from moving forward on this section, even though I’ve known from the start of the project that it’s going to have to go down this way. I do know that most people will Get It, but I hate getting yelled at in email. Or at all, really.

And! The votes are in! I’ll be foraging in town today.

What else? I’m still kind of reading the book club book, with a chaser of The Teller of Small Fortunes. It’s been slow going because I’ve been so damned tired. I may really try to knock off early this evening and, oh, watch Dr. Who.

Oh, and I need to find someone to paint my garage. Actually, I think I probably need somebody to rebuild my garage, but I’m not sure how that might be made to happen. Well. Research. That’ll be fun.

That appears to be the contents of my head, and my tea’s almost gone.

What’s going on with you, this fine Friday?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Steve Miller — the other Steve Miller — who notably wrote this song in 1976, when I’m told that music was Pure and nobody wrote about politics or social action in their books.  “Fly Like An Eagle“

The wheel in the sky keeps on turning

What went before ONE: And back from dancing. I was the New Kid. It was interesting and everyone was good-natured and very kind. I may have been the only one in the room who had never had theater or dance in my background, and I include the two Littles who were part of our group.

I notice a cross-over between ASL and some of the “body-speak” going on in dance. I suppose if I pursue it, I’ll have yet another physical language under my belt.

I got to interact, very briefly, with the bowli ball’s older, bigger, and more sullen brother. It was too big and goopy to perform the antics of an actual bowli ball. Instead of a gyroscope heart, it had a — what? bag of mud — that made for interesting shifts of velocity, weight, and … squishiness. Not good for tournament play, but an interesting item nonetheless.

After class, I went down Main Street a bit, stopped at Incense and Peppermints to see what they’re doing with the increased space, then Smitty’s Book Cellar to introduce myself and give out a couple cards.

I grabbed some pretzels when I got in, but I think that’s not quite lunch, so a salad it is.

The temperature has cracked 60F/16C; still cloudy and mizzling, off and on.

I hear through the dance class that next Saturday is World Tai Chi Day. Who’s participating?

What went before TWO: 830ish new words, which means! The WIP has cracked 30,000! +/-30,250. Pretty good for a day when I thought I wouldn’t be writing.

Defrosting some Smithfield boneless pork chops for tomorrow’s making-ahead, and also lunch.

The cats have had Happy Hour and Trooper wished to Take Exception to my coming back to the keyboard to finish the scene, so we had to have That Discussion again — the one that makes no sense? About how the clackity-clack on the keys makes cat food? Yeah, that one. He did lay down and go to sleep though, and I finished my scene. So there is that.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Intermittently cloudy and not. Breezy with gusts. Weatherbeans have put out a fire caution; calling for a high temp of 50F/10C. It rained on the overnight.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs with potato and onion, and a side of toast with blueberry-ginger jam, which was actually a bigger breakfast than I usually indulge in, so lunch plans may be adjusted accordingly.

This is Easter Sunday for those who celebrate. When Steve and I first got together, we celebrated by going to BaltiCon. Afteryears, Easter usually snuck up on us. We had the Convention Calendar in our heads and could mostly tell you which cons were on any given weekend, but Easter? Eh–a moveable lay (i.e. non-SF) feast that didn’t have much to do with us.

For those who are interested in cat placement, Trooper is at the moment sitting upright on my lap, purring, and making it easy for me to type. Rook is sprawled at the end of the desk, apparently chewing on the philosophical conversation we had this morning, when he found Tali already in my lap when he wanted to be there. How is it possible that I love him for being The Best Rookie AND Tali for being The Best Tali? This wants Thinking Over.

Second cup of tea brewing.

After I finish my morning letter to the internets, I have some stuff to do downstairs, and then I intend to catch up on all those things I failed to do last week by reason, I guess, of doing other things instead. And do my first pass through the ASL homework.

Directing my gaze into next week — there’s another movie-and-learned-discourse on Monday night; the movie is “Brick.” I may or may not attend. The movie looks interesting, but I have a limited capacity for leaned discourse on the Metaphors of Violence in Cinema.

On Wednesday, my new washer-and-dryer will be delivered, and the sales rep directed me to save up my dirty clothes and start washing the minute the delivery van cleared the driveway, because there’s a 48-hour, if-it’s-wrong-we’ll-make-it-right-today LG policy IF the wrong is reported within 48 hours. So! Laundry Party at Rolanni’s House! Bring snacks.

Thursday evening is of course ASL class. Before that is the Return of the Pest Control Guy, who will be replacing the things he knocked down during his inspection two weeks ago.

I have started reading The Savage, Noble Death of Babs Dionne (by Ron Currie, a Maine author) and in-between am re-reading Sea Wrack and Changewind (by Sharon Lee, another Maine author). Not sure why I got started on that, except it was at my place when I sat down to eat lunch a couple days ago, and one must read something.

My redecorated office door looks very nice in the sunshine. Very glad I decided to take that on.

And that? Is what’s doing at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s doing at your place?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Journey, “Wheel in the Sky”

Cat census and redecorated office door: