Tag: the writing life

E equals mc squared

Sunday. Sunny, breezy, warm in the sunshine.

Woke up at 7, just in time for Firefly, Trooper, and Rook to pile into bed with me, so we had a snuggle session until Tali jumped down from on top of the bookshelf by the bed, and everybody departed for the important business of having a snack.

Breakfast was the last half of the unfrozen blueberry muffins, cheese. Lunch will likely be chicken nugget stirfry.

I drank a mug of tea on the deck. This relaxation thing is hard to get a handle on, but — onward.

Today, I need to make up a bag for tomorrow’s boating excursion. I need a hat, sunscreen, rain jacket, sweatshirt? (yeah, probably; weather on the water is tricky), drinking water, snacks. I think that’s it. Pocket stuff will of course be in my pockets. Oh. I should pack a lunch to have before the boat leaves.

Other than that, the to-do includes one’s duty to the cats, a walk, and writing.

It occurs to me that I am just now recovering from my Mad Adventuring in the south and west, which is . . . information. Ten days away; fourteen days to recover.

Balticon, of course, was a huge outpouring of energy, even though I did the bare minimum expected of a GOH. I didn’t go to any parties, or even any panels that I wasn’t on, not out of disrespect or disdain, but because I wanted to credibly dispatch those duties I did have.

Corning, though delightful and stimulating . . . was probably not relaxing. And the incessant rains did nothing to make the drive, which ordinarily would have been at least familiar, restful.

NOTE: This does not mean I had a Terrible Time; I had a good time; there’s a certain energy that’s only gotten by rubbing minds with other people in person. Even Dedicated Old /C/u/r/m/u/d/g/e/o/n/s Introverts know this.

So, that.

How’s everybody doing today?

Just waitin’ on a friend

What went before: Sewing was fun; more people continue to find the group. The conversation turned at one point to bats, which was lively and enjoyable.

I hear that I should expect the Martin’s Point Nurse Visit tomorrow between 8 and 10 am, so I guess I’d better get my pill bottles in one place; not that I have that many pills, but I do take vitamins. Will also remember to ask about a referral to an audiologist. I don’t know that the traveling nurse can do that, but — maybeso.

The cats have been fed, to Trooper’s vast satisfaction, and I have poured myself a glass of wine. After I gather up my pills, I’ll be having the evening meal, and, yes, another early night, being as I will have to be up early tomorrow, JIC.

Everybody stay safe.

G’night.

Wednesday. Sunny and already warm.

Waiting on the Visiting Nurse.

Breakfast was half a blueberry muffin with a side of cottage cheese. Drinking my first cup of tea.

First Official Act of the Day was filing a complaint against the spoofed profile. FB reminds me that it will only remove things that are against its community standards, and it appears that, actually, pretending to be someone else is not against community standards.

Which actually tells us everything we need to know about FB, and yet here we all still are.

My sister-in-law is defending her doctoral thesis this afternoon, so if you can spare a good vibe or two on Scholar Net, that would be awesome.

Aside the Visiting Nurse — who just called and says he’ll be here right around 8 o’clock — I need to take bottles to the redemption center, and stop at Agway for rose spray.

And, in view of the Imminent Arrival of the Visiting Nurse, signing off for now.

Later that same morning: So, that was a reasonable and informative visit. I remain Disgustingly Healthy. Speaking of double-edged blades.

I think I talked the Visiting Nurse into taking his wife to Corning to make glass. And I may have a lead on a doctor who is accepting “transfer patients.” Apparently that’s the magic phrase, right there — not “new.”

The lawn guy’s here to mow, and his equipment, naturally enough, is in the driveway, so I’ll be taking the bottles out after he’s done his thing. Which, given that it’s only 9 o’clock — mornings go on forever when you get up at 6:30 — will be about the time the redemption center opens.

Rook was Not At All Certain that he had cleared Vets in the House (double entendre alert: the nurse is, as so many medical folks are up here, ex-military), and hid in Steve’s room. The other three cats stayed in my office:  Firefly and Trooper at the desk, and Tali behind a curtain.

Second cup of tea in hand.

The larger part of the day will be working on the WIP. I hope to get the correx entered today, so I can do the Grand Rearranging of Scenes tomorrow, and be set up to write new words, assuming I haven’t forgotten how, by the weekend.

I did a Coon Cat Weigh-In the other day. Everybody is staying stable — Firefly almost 12 lbs; Rook almost 13; Tali at 11 — except Trooper, who lost 2 lbs. He’s now on the mid-morning Elder Snack schedule. Good thoughts for Trooper, please.

How’s everybody doing today?

Rookie’s box arrived yesterday afternoon, and was put to use immediately I cleared out that pesky rope of lights:

Today’s blog post courtesy of the Rolling Stones, “Just Waitin’ on a Friend.”

Doctor on Deck

What went before ONE: All righty, then!

In my small, as yet uninvaded by Marines corner of the US, where it is cloudy, cool, and damp, I did go see the chiropractor, which was good, because back pain had continued escalating, until I was forced to sacrifice one of my precious Meloxicams to stem the pain and it was exactly like throwing a snowball at Hell.

I’m not gonna lie: getting smacked with a hammer in precisely the places I hurt most wasn’t fun. OTOH, the relief was damn’ near immediate. I came home, threw down some muscle relaxants, in order to get ahead of the cycle, got an ice pack and laid down in the bed, where I was immediately joined by Rook in what may be his first solo nursing gig. When I woke up, he was still curled against my knee, and I had Firefly and Tali bracketing my hips, so obviously this was considered a Serious Event by the care staff.

I have another appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow afternoon, but the absence of pain is a benediction, as ever.

I’m out for the rest of the day, obviously, but hope to be functional tomorrow.

Everybody stay safe.

Oh! Someone had asked about my neighbor: I’ve seen him round and about, though not to talk to — so I guess he’s Clearing Stuff Out.

‘night

What went before TWO: The names! The names! Obviously, I knew about the Sasanoa, but Upper Hells Gate and Hockomock have somehow eluded me for 35 years…

Cruise the upper Sasanoa River through Upper Hells Gate into serene Hockomock and Montsweag Bays. These tidal channels connect the Sasanoa River, Back River, and Sheepscot Rivers and once served as the primary rout for transportation between coastal communities like Bath, Wiscasset, and Boothbay. Their brackish waters host abundant fish and wildlife and serve as beautiful backdrops for photography opportunities. — Maine Maritime Museum Tours

Tuesday. Mizzling and cool. Trash and recycling are at the curb. It would be nice if it didn’t rain on one Trash Day so I could finish getting the Winter Boxes out of the garage before it’s Winter again.

Breakfast was oatmeal with inclusions. Lunch may well be the leftover pretend chicken parm.

I am sneezing. Happily my back does not hurt this morning, so I may do so with impunity.

Follow up with chiropractor at 3 today; sewing at 5 (or, really, whenever I get there); grocery shopping after. In-between, one’s duty to the cats, and the work of the house. I could, yanno, throw in a load of laundry, if I’m feeling particularly ambitious.

Two of the cruises offered from the Maine Maritime Museum hit the six lighthouses along the Kennebec River, and, Readers, I Am Tempted, because there’s no other way I’m going to be able to view these lights. All I need to do is figure out if I can cope with two to three hours trapped with strangers and their kids on a tour boat, and what I’m going to do about not burning to a crisp.

Last night, the cats and I finished up Season 1 of Ncuti Gatwa’s Dr. Who, and, having now seen the Whole Arc, I applaud Mr. Davies’ storytelling (yes, yes, I know; y’all are experts on Everything Who; allow me my discoveries in their own time). Firefly Did. Not. Approve. of Suketh. She threw herself onto the couch and aggressively snuggled against my side, purring, and occasionally looking up at me. I had to assure her several times that Ruby would Fix It, with help from the Man Person.

Ah. And today marks 300 days of traveling with Perry Wink in Finch. A melancholy celebration in its way, but, hey — any excuse for a party.

The younger staff members are playing tag in the back hall; Trooper is asleep on the co-pilot’s chair.

Have a picture of the rose bush:

The Luck in Action

What went before ONE: Well, that was more excitement than I wanted from lunch.

First, I spilled almost an entire box of elbow macaroni over the kitchen floor — I always try to catch things. Often I do catch them. Even more often, the result is worse than if I had just let whatever it is fall.

Rook came rushing to the scene of the catastrophe, looked at the mess, looked up me (“Mom. What the Hell?”), then assisted in clean-up by finding the macaronis that had taken cover under the cabinets, and smacking at least one to its Forever Home under the stove.

Eventually, I got back to the cooking part of the process, and it was lunch, and I even have leftovers for lunch-in-future.

Rook’s been practicing taking selfies:

 

 

 

 

What went before TWO: Well. A Compleat Change of Plan.

I did get some writing done, but after lunch, I noticed that my back hurt, and my hips hurt, and my knees hurt, and — you get the picture, I’m sure. So! I took a couple aspirin (I’m holding on to the High Test until I’m sure I have a doctor who can prescribe more, OR until aspirin doesn’t do the trick), and then I — wait for it — took a nap.

Woke up somewhat less achy, approached the keyboard, and remembered that today’s shopping trip to the freezer had Revealed An Error.

I was out of blueberry muffins.

Clearly, that situation could not stand, and a batch of blueberry muffins is finishing up baking as I type this.

Next, I need to go back down to the basement to see if I still have blueberries. Which tangentially reminds me that I ought to be making a grocery list. (EDITED TO ADD: I have blueberries.)

So! Minor amounts of writing completed today.

Here, have a snippet: “No, Bechimo had accepted Theo Waitley as captain, and there was nothing that could induce one of Korval, be she kin or be she clan, to relinquish a ship that was in her hand. She had been adamantine, had Captain Waitley, and admitted no error – which had only made him more determined to reft the ship from her.”

Oh.  The muffins are out:

 

 

 

 

Monday. Glary, damp and coolish. Windows are open in my office.

Breakfast was . . . different from planned, due to the fact that the cottage cheese appeared to have Mystery Inclusions. So! instead of half a blueberry muffin with a side of cottage cheese, I had half a blueberry muffin with cream cheese. Lunch is likely be a sweet potato, since I’m not feeling All That ambitious.

I hereby report an Instance of the Lee-Miller Sloppy Luck. I had cut two roses off the new bush two days ago, and put them in a bud vase on the dining room table, where they remained, undisturbed and cheery, until!

. . .I’m guessing last night. Maybe early this morning. A Person Unknown — *cough* Tali *cough* — knocked the bud vase over onto a pile consisting of a SanDisk mp3 player attached to a pair of headphones, which was sitting on the case (closed) of another pair of headphones, which was next to a large book.

Reader, most of the water was still in the vase. The mp3 player was slightly damp, but is working. Both sets of headphones are untouched, as is the book. The tablecloth was a little damp, but it needed to be changed, anyway.

I did not sleep well last night, and my back is still bothering me. It occurs to me that the chiropractor was not attached to the hospital that left, so perhaps a phone call to see if I still have an In there is in order.  (EDITED TO ADD:  I still have an In, and better yet?  An appointment for this afternoon.)

Otherwise, today is a writing day. No, really. I mean it.

Looking forward to the rest of the week, tomorrow evening is sewing, after which I’ll go to the grocery. Wednesday, I am to reside in a State of Anticipation of the arrival of the Home Visit Nurse, sometime between 8am and noon. Thursday morning Ashley will arrive, and Friday morning, I get a haircut.

I should sometime soon see what’s to do in Bath, so I can have some fun and find out where my doctor’s new practice is. Maybe there’s a Reny’s.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s happening with you?

Pics from yesterday:

My father says that almost the whole world is asleep

What went before ONE: Litter pans changed out, basement vacuumed, shower had, shopping done (Do I need more jeans? No. But I adore the Starfish pull-ons from Lands End, and? They’re On Sale! Besides, I cleaned out the basement.)

Next up — the midday meal — and then back with the WIP.

For the Record, should there actually be a record — it’s raining like heck.

What went before TWO: The afternoon theme. My question is: why am I awake?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What went before THREE: So, I did not finish reading the WIP today. I did realize that what I have needs to be rearranged, now that I have nearly half of a (technical) book written. Tomorrow, I’ll start the rearrangement. Or, I’ll write the scene that’s missing. Or, yanno — both. Or neither.

I note that, for this book, and against Standard Practice, I made what I’m pleased to call An Outline, in service of the fact that I’m operating on half the recommended brain-power for the writing of a Liaden book.

It has served me well this far, but its usefulness will end as I commence rearranging the segments, which is fine, because I have the middle pretty much nailed down, and A Few Ideas about the ending.

In other words, we’re in pretty good shape, over here in It’s Time to Write Your Novel Land.

I did not take a nap today. This may or may not have been An Error, though I did not make the Definite Error of applying caffeine, which leads me to suppose that this will be another Early Night.

The Coon Cats have been suing for Happy Hour since 4:45. Right now, they’re being quiet, perhaps even Too Quiet, but I’m willing to take a lack of noise Right Now for the probability of Chaos later.

I will append the Outline to the end of this communication, for those who have an interest in such things.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Outline for current WIP
VARIABLE
VELOCITY
TIME
CONVERGENCE
DISPLACEMENT
SOLUTION

#

Honest to ghu, people don’t pay attention.

Here’s Charlie Giguere, flying the Pride flag outside the Silver Street Tavern, which he has done for years (I mean Literal Years: I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Steve and me standing in front of it around here somewhere, and I was wearing a corset, which is an article of clothing I last wore in 2019. But that year the bullies were too interested in shutting down the bookstore), and only now, he’s getting flack. Like it’s all Brand New, and Charlie Just Got Woke.

It’s not that I want a better class of bully, but the stupid does sometimes burn.

In other news, the Maine Grain Association is sponsoring a Bread Walk in Portland and also an After Dark Bread Walk, which makes me both grateful and sad that I don’t live nearer to Portland. On the 26th, though, there’s the Bread Fair at Skowhegan Fairgrounds, and I may try to make that, absent brain-fying heat.

Where was I?

Ah.

Sunday. Bright and warm.

Breakfast was French toast with strawberries. Second cup of tea is brewing. Lunch may be, um. Maybe I can take a premade chicken patty, cook it in tomato sauce, put it over macaroni and pretend it’s Chicken Parmesan. That could work.

Today is a writing day.

That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.

What’ve you got?

This morning’s blog post brought to you by Abney Park, “The Wake“

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.

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.

#

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 dragons rule

What went before ONE: Plot twist! A folder has been opened for me at the Legal Aid for the Elderly. I am promised a call from a lawyer, perhaps today.

It is now cloudy here at the Cat Farm, though we’re not supposed to get rain until this evening. One’s duty to the cats has been dispatched; and I took a small walk. Laundry is being washed. Moving on to checking off Even More things from the to-do list.

What went before TWO: The credit card bill just came in and I had one of those HOLY FREAKING GHU! How much cat food did I BUY? moments.

Scrolling madly down the list —

Breathe, breathe. You bought a washer and dryer, remember? It’s OK, you planned for this…

What went before THREE: Window washer/gutter clean-and-repair guy still here. The sweet potato for lunch was good. The top rack of my dishwasher has decided to get out of alignment. Of course, it’s full of dishes. I manged to finagle it back to where it’s supposed to go, will wash the dishes tonight, empty it tomorrow and try to figure out what’s going on.

In the meantime, I have heard from the lawyer. She needs to speak with a colleague, and will call me back.

I spent an hour watching a comedy/poetry show called Biology with Alok. I’m assuming that I am, as always, late to the party, but if you haven’t seen this video, I … give it a qualified recommend. The poems are difficult, especially the segment about Alok’s grandfather, which is part of a long riff on why love is dangerous.

It seems like part of the intent of the show is to create a balance of high and low. The aside into made up words is hysterical, and I really liked the segments where the subject is straight/straight white people, where Alok is pretending that the audience are unfamiliar with the subculture. Kind of like Peter Grant, who only mentions a person’s race if they’re white.

I also liked the bit where Alok and friends are walking down the street and a guy yells, “GAYS!” “Give me something I can make poetry from, not comedy!” has got to be a classic line.

Anyhoots, for those who may be interested — it’s an hour and I spaced it out into three segments — here’s the link

What went before FOUR: One of my ASL classmates made this for me:

#

Business first: Ribbon Dance mass market debuts on the Bookscan Bestseller List of new releases at Number 35!

Friday. Mizzling and chilly. sigh

Breakfast was rice crackers, cream cheese, and the last strawberries. Lunch… Yeah. I’ll think of something.

ASL class was a little chaotic last night; all of us, including the instructor, were one step off of center. Next week is my last week, by reason of Balticon, and I’ll also have to miss two fabric craft meetings. Thus! the price of fame. And of wanting to have a vacation.

Also next week — Monday, in fact — I have an appointment to get my haircut, which I have mixed feelings about. On the one hand, my hair’s grown long enough that, if we just chopped off a few points and got my bangs out of my eyes, I’d let it keep on doing its thing. On the other hand, I ought to at least look respectful. And on the gripping hand — who even looks at old scifi writers?

Is that DAVE BROMBERG on Classic Rewind? Oh. No. Ice Cream Man. Van Halen. That’s actually something of a relief.

Today, she says in a Determined Auctorial Voice, is a Writing Day. That may mean that lunch is solved by takeout.

. . . Back when I was a young writer, newly partnered and feeling completely safe for possibly the first time in my life, I could drop into story space and stay there for — hours and hours; half a day — or night. Sandwiches and glasses of ice tea would magically appear and I’d eat them without ever coming out of my fugue. I wrote several stories, start to finish, that way. Even as a older writer, I could drop into fugue for at least a few hours, knowing I had back-up. Nowadays, I have to keep one ear cocked and one eye open, and I — kinda resent that.

In other news, my dentist wants me to come to an Exclusive Event! An Invisalign Screening! And? If I sign On The Day, I can get $1100 OFF of Invisaligns.

While I’m the first person to agree that my teeth are crooked and have always been crooked, I take leave to doubt that the Invisaligns can be made to fit around the rocks in my mouth. So — recycling bin.

Spectrum Generations — aka the Senior Center(s) — have a newsletter called Wicked Aging. Make of that what you will.

And that’s what I’ve got on a gloomy Friday.

Who has weekend plans?

Oh, the new dragon is making friends.

. . . the rain’s gonna wash away, I believe this

What went before ONE: Contact made with painter. Letters writ. Duty to the cats retired. Car vacuumed; mud trays removed, rinsed off, and drying in the breeze.

I may not have mentioned this before, but … I have a snow shovel hanging on a coat hook in the foyer. And Rook has decided that bumping the shovel with his cheek (which makes the shovel swing slightly and go “bump-bump-bump”) is An Announcement that Coon Cats Are OR Should Be About To Be Fed.

Which is cute, even though he’s pretty often wrong. However, he’s right often enough that the other cats recognize the bump-bump-bump as treats and come rushing in from wherever they were to make sure they don’t miss out.

This brought to you by, I just put my dinner on to warm, Rookie decided turkey breast smelled good to him, hit the shovel — and I was awash in coon cats. None of whom are getting my turkey, and they’ve already had treats.

What went before TWO: Got a little bit of work done — +/-840 words, bringing the WIP to +/-38,690.

Still need to sort out my sewing basket, and one of my letters has generated a couple things I need to watch, so I think I’ll do the pots ‘n pans, serve up happy hour, pour a glass of wine and watch those.

#

Tuesday. Damp and grey and chill.

Trash and recycling at the curb.

Breakfast was a raisin bran muffin. Kettle on for my second cup of tea. Lunch…I think there’s leftover quiche.

Chatting a little with the gentleman who will be interviewing me at Balticon (11:30 Saturday morning in the Maryland Room, immediately after the Friends of Liad Breakfast), and he mentioned that he may talk about the Carousel books, which is very cool. But, that inspired me to go back to find when the Carousel books were published — Carousel Tides, 2010; Carousel Sun 2014; Carousel Seas 2015. So the newest was published a decade ago.  I was in Old Orchard Beach in September of 2012, the year and month that I turned 60, writing Carousel Sun. Leaving aside the obligatory How Is That Possible? — that’s eleven Liaden books ago.

I dunno. Maybe we weren’t slackers, after all.

So, today I’m going to record my adjusted reading to make sure I fall within time, sort out my sewing basket, perform one’s duty to the cats, answer a couple letters and remember to go to the library this evening.

That doesn’t seem to be too difficult a day.

What’s your day look like?

Blog post title brought to you by Matchbook 20, “3 a.m.”

Pictures: daffodils and Rook (who was helping me watch those youtube samples)