Tag: reading

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“

Twistin’ the night away

Saturday. Cloudy, not as cold, but it ain’t summer.

Breakfast was hummus, naan, and grapes. Yes, I’m eating a lot of hummus, but it’s So. Good.

Lunch will be fish on an onion roll with cheese.

Wrote a little this morning, did my duty the cats, PT homework Session I, took a walk. After lunch? More writing!

Oh, you know the thing, that gay people were invented by the libs sometime during the past 20 years, and the other one, that songs and stories never had a “liberal agenda” until, I dunno, last Wednesday?

Well. Here I was, minding my own business, listening to 60s Gold, and on comes that fun-time dance song, “Twistin’ the Night Away,” by Sam Cooke, in which we celebrate the peaceful coming together of All Peoples at the Sugar Shack before the B52s got their residency — in order to do the twist, and I’m singing along, as one does, and grinning at the man in the evening clothes, and how he got here, I don’t know, and then I hear this come out of my mouth:

Here’s a fella in blue jeans
Dancin’ with an older queen

1962.  Here’s a link

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About 1800 words written today, bringing the WIP to +/-102,700. Tomorrow, I write again.

So, on the idea of The Author Reads Her Own Works in 2026 — a Question for the Group Mind: How many of you would like to do a Read Along? I can dust off Splinter Universe and we can carry on as a group over there if there’s enough interest.

Please let me know in comments if this is something you’d like to be part of.

Deets: I’m planning to start in January, and I’m planning to read the novels only, and in Publication Order*. I have my reasons for doing it this way, and if you don’t agree, that’s fine; don’t take part.

All that said, everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll look in tomorrow.

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*Publication Order = Agent of Change, Conflict of Honors, Carpe Diem, Plan B, Local Custom, Scout’s Progress, I Dare, Balance of Trade, Crystal Soldier, Crystal Dragon, Fledgling, Saltation, Mouse and Dragon, Ghost Ship, Dragon Ship, Necessity’s Child, Trade Secret, Dragon in Exile, Alliance of Equals, The Gathering Edge, Neogenesis, Accepting the Lance, Trader’s Leap, Fair Trade, Salvage Right, Ribbon Dance, Diviner’s Bow

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?

White bird dreams of the aspen trees

Tuesday. Chilly and dim. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Breakfast was cold pizza. A milestone. I had what I believe to be my first pizza since Steve died on Sunday night, post-interview. It would have been something we might have done. This being so, I had cold pizza for breakfast, also for the first time in more than a year. … It was good. Pairs well with Scottish Morn tea.

Woke up this morning with a short story in my head, so I need to map that out before I hit the WIP.

I have finished writing the Holiday Letter; it is now cooling before I reread and (probably) revise. Firefly helped me find the cards, and then we all had to sit around and explain to Rook about cards, and let him sniff them. He got green glitter on his nose.

Still reading The Thursday Murder Club (yes, yes: slow reader). One of the things I’m especially enjoying is the acknowledgement that all of the club members had Done Stuff — even a lot of stuff. They did not just manifest one day as Old People, their pasts either irrelevant or a blank.

And of course, it’s wonderful to see them manipulate the “clueless and helpless old people” perception.

I’m a little scared of Elizabeth, though.

So! This evening is needlework. This morning is writing.

I’m gonna need more tea.

What’s on your schedule today?

Today’s blog post brought to you by David and Linda LaFlamme, “White Bird“

There are stars in the southern sky

Monday. Bright and cold.

Breakfast was two eggs scrambled with leftover cauliflower and broccoli, with sausage, and a piece of whole wheat toast. A Big breakfast, but it’s a biggish morning.

Trash and recycling are in the garage, preparing themselves for tomorrow’s journey to the curb. Dishwasher is doing its thing. Cats suspect that Something Is Up.

I’ll be getting on the road to the cancer center and my chat with the Survivalist as soon as I finish my second mug of tea. I’ll be early, but I don’t have Steve’s genius for split-second timing, so better early than late.

I’m having a lot of fun with the Thursday Murder Club, and having never seen the show, only read complaints about how it “did not live up” to the books, despite the excellent cast — I have Some Thoughts About that.

The voice of the book — aka “the narrator” — is hysterical and unless the show (again, never seen it) has a voice over telling you what, oh, Ian’s thinking, and how he’s thinking it, viewers are missing an important facet of the story, and expecting the actors to carry the whole weight themselves isn’t really fair.

. . . and that’s my second mug empty, so I’m off.

I hope everyone’s having a good morning. I’ll see you on the flip side.

Back, having gone the long way home — through Bar Harbor. I had somehow expected the town to be open. I mean, people live on the island. To be fair, some things were open, for instance the Village Green Cafe, where I got my lunch (grilled ham and cheddar on multigrain with blueberry ice tea), but I hadn’t expected the relative emptiness.

Also, I had not come dressed for ocean-side chill, so my window shopping was limited. However, I’m glad I did not just go Straight Home like a Good Do-Bee. And, besides, I need to keep in practice with driving longish distances (that was, eh, 220 miles on the day). She said virtuously.

The Survivalist is a dream. We have a yearly check-in plan in place, as well as an agreement that I may call upon her for various things, and reassurance that I had NOT screwed up by wearing my compression gloves when my hands hurt. And I got points for asking a good question.

I believe I have all my Stuff for Thursday in-house (well, except flowers. I forgot flowers. Oh, well.), so that’s good. I haven’t gotten a wreath, either, because I just can’t make myself buy a wreath before Thanksgiving. It’s just … wrong.

The cats inform me that I missed three — or possibly four — check-ins today and that they are not disposed to be lenient. I was immediately tasked with rubbing Tali’s ears, and scrubbling Rook’s belly, and picking up Firefly for an All-Grown-Up Hug. I draw the line, however, at moving Happy Hour up by an hour and a half.

What did y’all do today?

Today’s blog post title comes from The Eagles, “Seven Bridges Road,” which I can never resist singing along with the acapella parts, though I really ought to always resist singing.

See me ride outta that sunset. . .

. . . on your color TV . . .  Am I the only one who ever wants to filk things like TNT for, oh, accountants?  or retail workers?  or well.  Sorry AC/DC

Onward.

Um. Tuesday. Jeez, yesterday was a long day.

Tuesday. Sunny and cool. Trash and recycling languish yet in the garage, but I’ve got time to get it out to the curb.

Today’s to-do includes filling out a form for adult ed, scheduling an interview for … Sunday afternoon, is what I’m thinking … changing out the cat fountains, and getting my needles ready for this evening’s meeting of the embroidery club. Might be time for a little entering of corrections. That would be nice.

But first! Breakfast! I’m going with hummus and naan and grapes again. I must have been in hummus deprivation.

What’s for breakfast at your house?
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And apparently I’m on short-thought today. I just last night finished reading The Bookshop of Dust and Dreams, by Mindy Thompson, which was a fine time-travel tale riffing off of the Change-one-Thing theory, and never in your face. Very well done. It is, for those who object to such things, YA, and the narrator is a young girl.

Link to today’s cat census and state of an art

Today’s blog post title brought to you by AC/DC, “TNT”

 

Communique to the Internets

Saturday. Cool and cloudy.

Before we get to the recap, someone — Alma? — had asked how you remove the stabilizer without damaging the embroidery. I had previously used stabilizer, which was impossible to wash out, but! Improvements have been made. The instructions for the stablizier on which the pattern for my embroidered shirt were printed said, “Rinse under a stream of warm water.” So, I took it into the bathroom, turned on the shower and stuck the shirt under the warm water. Somewhat to my surprise, because, I, too had expected A Fight, the stuff just melted away. It took — what? A minute. Then I hung the shirt up and let it drip.

Mind you, it was stupidly difficult to embroider through the stabilizer, which is too bad because apparently the kit-making people have latched onto this as The Answer, and are now sending a bit of linen, a pattern printed on stabilizer, thread, etc. So, the two kits that remain on-hand (both black-cat-themed, what was I thinking?) are both “affix the pattern to the cloth.”

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Feel free to skip from here to the next # # # if you’d rather not hear an elderly lady complain about her old war wounds.

You have been warned.

Yesterday was No Fun At All. I owe Patty Briggs for the timely arrival on my tablet of the chronicle of Asil’s yuletide adventures, which made the day somewhat less bad, but even a beautiful, doomed, ironic man can only do So Much. One does wonder what looms — well, but that would be a spoiler, and we already know what looms.

My back hurt sufficiently that I took the drugs, even though I knew that was probably a Bad Idea, as indeed it was. The drugs make me sick. I know this, but they do also, sometimes, work against the pain. Sadly, yesterday was not one of those days. Tali gave it her All, but even so . . .

At 9:30, I just fell into bed, exhausted, and slept for three solid hours, then off and on in hour-sized chunks. Firefly was on night-watch, and she, too did her All, including smacking Rook off the bed, when he decided that I would feel better if I played. (She did allow him to remain later, when he snuck up and curled against my knee.)

I finally got up sometime after 10:30, took a shower, made myself a mug of peppermint tea and sat down at my desk to write this communique to the internets.

Since the drugs were such a disappointment, I have decided to quit the course. Yes, my back still hurts. A lot. But if this is going to be my life, I guess I’m going to have to learn how to ignore the pain and do what needs to be done though it. You wouldn’t think this would be hard, since I’m pretty good at ignoring various other sorts of pain, but the back pain is my nemesis. So! a project.

Just what I needed.

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My Plan for the day is to find something non-threatening to eat after I’ve finished my nice mug o’peppermint, then go back to Steve’s office and get some writing done.

I have in my in-box two letters from the law firm representing writers in the Antropic settlement, replying to mine of several weeks ago. It looks like I’ll need to get Madame the Agent involved on account of Steve being dead like he is. I’ll look at those again when I’m feeling a little more the Thing.

So, that’s caught us all up. The cats, I believe, are in Steve’s office, and I — am going to make another cup of peppermint tea and a piece of toast, and go join them.

And how’re y’all doing today?

Sunny Friday with embroidery and glasswork

What went before: Finished embroidering my shirt:

Friday. Sunny and coolish.

Slept late because went to bed ditto. Woke up with a backache, because of course I did.

So my glassworking teacher came out and said last night that I had chosen a very difficult design, but that was good, because I could be an Example for the rest of the class. Which I guess is a thing you never outgrow.

Those who have been following along will perhaps recall that I broke the starfish twice while I was cutting it, the second time much less catastrophically than the first. I took what remained of that sheet of glass to class to see if I could be taught better.

The teacher took the glass and the pattern and broke the starfish three times during scoring, all worse than my second attempt, so! keeping my second attempt in the design.

I also learned last night that something that I had subconsciously been depending on — that any errors in scoring could be adjusted in the grinding stage — was … optimism. Apparently, grinding is only for roughing up the edges so the foil will stick, and not a fix for shoddy cutting.

Homework is attaching the foil to all the pieces, which I’ve already forgotten how that’s supposed to go, but that is, after all, why Google gave us Youtube.

I finished reading The Women last night, and am cleansing my palate with Blind Date with a Werewolf before going on to Remarkably Bright Creatures.

I have taken naproxen and baclofen, which is somewhat nerve-wracking, since the last time I had back pain severe enough to hit the drugs I wound up in the ER (because the drugs didn’t work on the pain though they made me plenty sick, and the shot of steroids administered by the clinic kicked my blood pressure into the stratosphere, so not doing that again). So far, neither drugs, nor ice, nor heat seem to be helping, so my next act will be to clean the cat boxes while I can still bend over, and then try to figure out what I can do to keep the pain in the region of “uncomfortable,” the goal being to not wind up, weeping, in the Command Chair.

Standing up and sorta leaning into my desk isn’t actually uncomfortable, so I may work on the Sekrit Project, if I can’t think of anything to do that will actually mitigate the pain. Clearly, wrapping a zillion small pieces of glass in foil is not an option.

Tali has been sitting on me when I sit or lie down, and purring, while Rook takes up a station in the same room. Firefly is off-duty and sleeping in the sunshine in my office.

So! How’s Friday treating you?

Monday evening update

Did some work on the Sekrit Project, checked the post office box, put gas in the car, went to the book club, hit the grocery store, came home and strung lights. Checked the route to the hospital in Rockport, bought next month’s book club book — Remarkably Bright Creatures — my choice, because — octopus.

Tomorrow I drive to the hospital in Rockport (ref “gas/car”) for a nerve conduction test. I don’t think a visit to the hospital to have electricity run through my body counts as a Writer’s Day Off, even if I do get to drive to the coast. I also want to try to get to needlework tomorrow evening, so — I may be scarce, but fear not! This is The Plan.

Wednesday looks like a free day, as does Friday, Thursday is mostly free, except for glass class, which I will try to go early so I can talk to my teacher about various fixups that probably need to be done.

So! How was your day?

Let there be light.  Left to right — Steve’s Office, Sharon’s Office, Living room

 

 

 

Eek.

These just in…

And gosh it was nice of the UPS guy to throw both boxes into a puddle AND block the front door, AND fail to put said boxes in plastic, even though it’s raining.

 

 

 

And we end the day on a complete mystery.

I went back to Steve’s office to put the new edition of I Dare on his shelf and in doing so, bumped the cloisonne cardinal he had sitting on the shelf, which fell to the floor OR SO I THOUGHT. I cannot find it, ANYwhere. Hands and knees, flashlights, vacuum cleaner — I have no idea where that bird went. My only hope now is the cats, and the hope there is that they won’t destroy it if they do find it.

Sheesh.

Wine o’clock.

Everybody have a good evening.

Gothic Monday

What went before ONE:  So that’s +/-1,320 words on the morning. I’m not reporting the impact of these words on the WIP total because I don’t know exactly where they go.

The cats were all waiting for me when I got to Steve’s Office, and they stuck with me until I said, “That’s a wrap,” whereupon Rook and Tali got up, stretched, and followed me to the front of the house.

It’s now time to have lunch, then go downstairs to perform one’s duty to the cats, and monkey around with my glass for a bit.

The cloudy morning has become a sunny afternoon, though still cool.

And so it goes.
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What went before TWO:  Aaaand that’s enough fun for one day! I have finished cutting what glass I can. As Was Predicted, I did break the starfish — twice, but the second time much better than the first (Do not laugh. The bar we’re using here, as Miri Robertson once famously said, is the one that’s buried in that snowpile over there). So, rather than run out of glass, I shall take what I have with me to class, prepared to Learn Better.

There’s a horrifying amount of glass pieces in my scrap box. Honestly, I should go into the kaleidoscope business.

Also, the project got its tithe of blood today, so I was glad I had wimped in and taken my silly little first aid kit down to The Studio.

But! All that said — I’m for a cup of tea and a bun, and then I do believe I’ll read.

Everybody have a good evening. I’ll check in tomorrow.
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What went before THREE: New entry in Steve and Sharon’s Excellent Adventure, for those who are reading along: Eager Street
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Um. Monday? Cool and damp; rain in the forecast.

Updated my books read list — I have read my 50th book, which is something of a relief; I really didn’t think I was going to see that many.

Read the first eight chapters of the book club book last night. I really can’t tell if the … predictability is a feature or a bug. As in, yes, this; yes, this, too; no that’s pretty flimsy, but it gets us where we’re going; ok, yeah, they lied, what a surprise — is just the entrance ramp into the Real Story* (feature) or if, having begun, this is how we mean to go on. Well. I’ll find out.

In other news, I was inclined to feel Poorly Used when I got the news that my health insurance will be going up $30 a month in 2026, but that was before I read the newspaper and found out that this same insurance provider is dropping membership for half the state. Yes, the half that needs it the most, why do you ask?

Sigh. It’s possible that Mondays aren’t good for me.

P’rhaps I’ll go find a cup of tea and something for breakfast.

How’s everybody doing this morning?
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*I almost had a fistfight on a panel regarding the beginning of The Goblin Emperor, in which,** and my fellow panelist was insisting that it was Bad Storytelling because Basic Security mandates that you Don’t Do That, and my equally empassioned argument that this was just to “explain” how we got to the Unlikely Situation which was the Actual Story the writer wanted to tell. Wow, that was an exhausting panel.
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
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**The Emperor and all of his sons are on the same airship when it blows up.