Tag: writing

In which connectivity goes down, and up again

What went before: Wrote about 700 words, mostly expanding existing scenes. WIP currently stands at +/-62,500. I need to think about whose POV will be most fun in this next scene. I’m leaning toward Gordy, but Imma sleep on it, because my brain is tired. Along with the rest of me.

I sliced the bread and put it away (except for that one slice that fell face down in the butter, so I ate it instead of wasting it). Cleaned up the chaos of baking.

Trooper managed to work his way through one can of Fancy Feast tuna in gravy over the course of today, and now he’s punching me in the arm and demanding Happy Hour, right now!

Tomorrow morning, I have an appointment with the chiropractor and while I’m out will hit the vet for more probiotic, and the grocery for the essentials: wine, cat gravy, and fruits, plus whatever looks like it will be good in terms of things to eat for a Writing Weekend.

SNIPPET: WARNING: Possible Spoiler for Diviner’s Bow.

“And,” Priscilla’s voice came from unexpectedly near at hand. “Anthora must remember to ask her brother about his own adventures building a lifeline and how he was rescued by his eldest daughter.”

“By Padi!” Anthora exclaimed, and the sullen look was quite gone from her face, replaced by startled glee. “Absolutely, you owe me that story, Shan-brother!”

“I also have an interest,” Val Con murmured. Miri came to his side and slipped an arm around his waist.

“Me, too,” she said.

“And I,” said Ren Zel.

“Everyone shall have the story!” Shan cried over this growing tumult. “However, I insist that we proceed in an orderly manner, dealing with the most important matters first. For instance, my glass is empty. Who is with me for a refill?

Friday. Sunny and going to be hot, for Maine values &c.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs and potatoes with homemade toast and strawberry jam. Lunch may be meatballs in red sauce over bread. With cheese. Need a veggie, there. Or, yanno, not. Red sauce is a veggie, right?

Trooper has already eaten half a (smol) can of seafood feast in gravy with his meds (because I ran out of bisque and he now will not eat the stew, apparently because it has icky inclusions of real food. I need to call the vet and get some more probiotic. I’ve only been getting ten packs at a time, but maybe I should get more? I have no idea, but I’m guessing it will be useful to someone, if we don’t finish it all, here.

Firefly joined Trooper on my lap last night and they had a little cat love fest, which is nice to see. Trooper’s grandkids — well. technically Firefly is his niece, since she came from the same cattery — are very solicitous of him. They stop by to clean his ears and they sleep near him. Yesterday, Rook forgot himself and grabbed onto the back of Trooper’s neck to wrassle, and Tali let go with a roundhouse that knocked Rook right off the bed, then she licked Trooper’s ears and curled up next to him.

As previously advertised, I have an appointment with the chiropractor this morning, then some errands, then I hope to have a productive weekend of writing.

At some point, I’m going to have to get some time — by which I mean a couple of days — where I can focus All My Scant Brain Power on the WIP, to see what I have, which piece goes where and which pieces still need to be written. I really don’t have much time-in-a-chunk right now, because of Trooper’s necessities. OTOH, there are still pieces I know need to be written, so I’m good for the moment.

SPEAKING OF WRITING — I once again remind people not — that’s NOT — to give me “story ideas.” If I need suggestions, I will ask for them. In the meantime, if your unsolicited suggestion happens to hit something I was going to do anyway, but haven’t gotten to yet (not, in most cases “forgotten about”), I will drop that idea. This is because some people are stoopid and evil, and I don’t want a lawsuit at this time in my life, OR to be cut off from the intellectual property that supports my household. Thank you for your attention to this minor but important detail.

So, South Park! I have to tell you I had no idea South Park was still A Thing. Also, Satan needs a better dating app.

One thing about getting up at 6 am? The morning goes on forever. I’ve got time to perform my duty to the cats before I head out to my appointment.

What’re y’all doing today?

Below, coon cat love-in with Trooper and Firefly, and Tali and Trooper in the sun

I had a premonition that I should not go alone

What went before: One thousand two hundred seventy-three new words today, bringing the WIP entire to +/- 61,750.

Trooper has not eaten so very much today, and he several times came to me, crying, but it wasn’t food OR cuddles that he wanted. I tried brushing him (very carefully, with a slicker brush; his fur’s gotten so thin, I’m afraid I’ll scratch him), and he purred. Then he jumped down and fell asleep with all the rest of the cats, in or near one of the open windows.

It’s almost Happy Hour, after which I have another couple things to do, but basically, it’s Quittin’ Time.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

SNIPPET:
Anthora pressed her lips together. Val Con turned to stare at her.

“Hold. Is this what I was scolded most soundly for doing on behalf of my lifemate?”

“Yes,” Anthora said, sounded goaded. “But you had done it stupidly.”

Thursday. Sunny and going to be warmer. Station air is on.

Yep, up at 6 again, though I did successfully repel borders at 4.

Today, we bake bread. The ingredients have been measured and are coming up to room temperature while I eat some vanilla skyr, drink my first cup of tea, and update the internets on the doings here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

After two “good” days in a row, Trooper again refused his gravy-with-meds. I foresee a long and fretful day, though he’s sleeping in the copilot’s chair right now.

The other cats are about. Firefly is overlooking the front garden and lawn. Rook is hanging out in front of the pantry, in case I open it again. He’s *fascinated* by the Wall that Opens. I’m not sure where Tali’s got to, which probably means she’s in a window, behind the curtains.

I didn’t manage to make either of my phone calls yesterday, and, honestly? It’s not looking good for today, though it occurs to me that I might be able to send an email to one of them. I can manage that.

Sigh. Raise your hand if you hate making phone calls.

What else? Oh. I need to add (at least) one thing to the scene I wrote yesterday, and go back a couple scenes to place Mr. Foreshadow.

Ah. Tali arrives in a burst of skitter-scramble-bam! She’s found a spring to play with. Rookie is now under the standing desk, which is in the UP position, pouting because I didn’t give him /a/n/y /o/f my cup of skyr.

Aside the bread, and my duty to the cats, and that maybe-email, that’s all I have on the list of chores. So, hoping to write another scene this afternoon.

What’re you doing today?

Today’s blog post brought to you by Mr. Glenn Frey, “Smuggler’s Blues”

Last night, I had help getting ready for bed:

Stones are the bones of the earth

What went before ONE: Making dhal for (my) lunch.

Trooper resting comfortably in the copilot’s chair. Firefly in the box on the desk. Rookie stretched out on my papers on the desk. Tali resting in Steve’s office.

Apparently, we’ve all had a rough morning and are seeking comfort.

What went before TWO: +/-970 new words today, which means! The WIP has broken 60,000. We may actually be able to do this thing.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Sunny, cool, and pleasant. Trash and recycling are at the curb.

The rose continues to survive in the front garden. I continue to apply chili powder around the base.

Trooper ate a pouch of gravy with meds included, and half of a three ounce can of Fancy Feast Grilled Tuna and Cheddar in gravy. Which is to say! He licked up all of the gravy, but then he actually did eat some of the food.

Trooper is on-deck to get his claws trimmed today, because he scratched my face this morning as he was pounding on me to get up, get up, GET UP AND FEED ME, WOMAN!

I? am very tired.

This morning, I would like to talk about rocks. Rocks have been a lifelong passion. When I was a kid, I read everything I could about rocks. I took a summer class in rocks in elementary school. I picked up rocks to take home and study. I could tell a igneous rock from a sedimentary rock, from a metamorphic rock. I loved agates, and my bucket list included finding garnets in the wild. I kept a Rock Notebook. I would talk for hours about rocks to anybody who made the mistake of asking me what I liked.

I just Loved Me some rocks, OK?

In adulthood, I kept with the picking up of Cool Stones. I would talk to Steve about rocks, mostly because he never learned not to say, “So, tell me about this one. What made you pick it up?”

And for one birthday, he surprised me with a trip into the Maine mountains to a “played out” quarry, where you could fill up a bucket with the broken stones from the discard heaps, then go sit under a tent and sift them, looking for tourmalines.

Best. Birthday. Present. Ever. And I was over 50 at the time.

I still have a lot of the rocks from that trip, even after having given away a box or two. A week or so ago, I decided to put some of the more interesting ones out on the deck on the table and let the rains cleanse them. Many of these rocks have inclusions; many have pits, where iron crystals had formed and then rusted away. A couple are just big chunks of black tourmaline. Some have quartz crystal inclusions, some, I think are garnets, but they might just as well be pink tourmaline. Some of the rocks are slabbed with mica, and, yes, there are tourmaline inclusions in almost every one. Very small tourmalines, mostly black. Black tourmaline is not as valued as the other colors.

[Taking a break to see what Trooper has made of the second half of the can of tuna and cheddar, and? The plate was clean (I put a closed door between him and the kids for this, so he dines in seclusion sometimes; other times, I butle for him.).]

OK, back to rocks. I’ve been checking the rocks on the outside table every morning, turning them and oohing and aahing over each new reveal. This morning, as I was performing this ritual, I noticed that the rains had really cleaned up a rock I particularly liked, and I could see crystals in its pebbly surface. And several of those crystals were green.

This is very exciting. Moreover, the rain has revealed in addition to white quartz crystals, and the green, many, many orange-ish crystals, which had given the piece its “pebbly” affect. This is basically a crystal farm, growing on a granite base.

Happy sigh

Thank you for listening to me talk about rocks.

Today at 11 I’m expecting an arborist, who will tell me now much it’s going to cost to take the scary pine trees at the head of the drive down before the winds knock them down and they hit the house, taking a swath of wires with them. Tonight is needlework. Between now and then, I have my duty to the cats, and I wish to write. And, yes, trim Trooper’s claws — that smack was way too close to my eye.

So! What childhood passion still makes you happy as an adult?

Have some pictures. On the table of rocks, those two black chunks? Those are black tourmaline.

“Just try to make it sound like you wrote it that way on purpose.”

What went before:  So, a slow start, ending with +/-1,287 new words, for a Full WIP wordcount of!

+/-58,890.

. . . I am going to have to go back and fill in so many holes, and I am going to have to eventually figure out That Thing, but “eventually” is the operative word, and Future Me is going to be Quite Put Out with me.

OTOH, we have motion in a forwarder direction.

The cats are demanding Happy Hour, I have pots ‘n pans to wash, and, oh, I should try to find The French Connection somewhere.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Damp and dim and cool(ish). “Violent” thunderstorms are apparently on the menu.

The rose survived another night.

Breakfast was onion, potato salad, and leftover broccoli scrambled with an egg. Whole wheat toast with strawberry jam on the side. Lunch — if nothing else, I have salmon cakes left over from yesterday.

I need to sneak out to the grocery for cat food, and some fruit while I’m at it. I also want to stop at Reny’s, which opens at 9, so that’s my window for getting out of here.

Today, I need to change out the cat fountains and I probably ought to do other housekeeping-like things, but the chances are I’ll be in the comfy chair, making Notes for the WIP, since yesterday’s scene Revealed where that other scene needs to go, and what its job is. I love how writing is such an orderly process.

No, wait a minute — no. I don’t. It’s one of life’s ironies that I was trained as a secretary, to make and keep order inside of Chaos. I was also the order-keeper in the partnership, which is a Testament to Steve’s capacity for Chaos.

Ah. The thunderstorms are projected to arrive about 11 am. I therefore Make Plans — out at nine, back before 11. I can do this.

Oh. I should say, in re the film I was looking for: NOT The French Connection, which I have heard of but never seen, and actually have no desire to see (apologies to all of those who sang out with great love for the experience). The movie I was looking for is The French Dispatch (Wes Anderson), and the search goes on. Possibly, I can stream it from Amazon, if Amazon will stop fetching me 404s instead of film pages.

I also need to finish reading John’s book so I can take it back to the library on Tuesday, and give somebody else a chance. I mention this because the library sent me a note, telling me that my book is due back soon.

So! What’re you doing today?

Today’s blog post title is from The French Dispatch.  And now you know why I want to watch it.

This is one of the day lilies I rescued from last year’s landscaping project.  Turns out to be one of Steve’s Special Sort, and I can’t tell you how glad I am to see it.

Musings on the craft

What went before: Had a nap. Wrote +/-720 new words, bringing the WIP to 57,600-ish total words.

Please do not send me Instagram links — Instagram will not let me in, no matter how nicely I ask, which, honestly? Is probably Just As Well.

It really was a very pleasant day today, weatherwise. Sadly, it will be warmer again tomorrow, but then perhaps we’ll have a thunderstorm or two to look forward to on Sunday.

For those interested in the Fate of Our Papers (not a joke; several people have Expressed Concern), I will at the end of this update provide links to our two archives: One at Northern Illinois University, and the other at the Cushing Memorial Library at Texas A&M.

I’m knocking off for the day to do a little embroidery, and fingers crossed that the cats will let me sleep.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Links:  Northern Illinois University       Cushing Memorial Library

Saturday, sunny and still cool. Windows OPEN.

Tali is playing with a spring. Trooper has had his envelope of gravy with meds stirred in. Rookie is on the prowl and Firefly is in one of the open windows in my office.

First cup of tea is brewing, which I will drink while completing the process of waking up. Breakfast will be half a blueberry muffin. Probably. Lunch will be the postponed-from-yesterday salmon cakes, with veggies.

So, I’ve been thinking about the WIP — I know, What A Surprise — and about Diviner’s Bow, which was originally going to be a Completely Nother Book, dealing with Padi’s adventures during the audit of the Iverson Loop.

Only, I got to thinking about the set up there on Colemeno, and the Matter of the Deaf — not necessarily of the Haosa, though there was some of that. I mean, a society where two-thirds of the population are, by definition, non-people really isn’t tenable. And while the Deaf on Colemeno have only just recently fought themselves to a seat at the table, where their voice could be heard, the Haosa don’t even have that.

It never came up, but I’m guessing that, if the Deaf are allowed to, say, testify in court, their “disability” would prevent them from giving a Whole and True Account, and thus not be compelling evidence. And the Haosa! The Haosa might as well be norbears for all the rights they hold under Civilization.

Which comparison would, I expect, amuse the Haosa greatly.

So, that’s how Diviner’s Bow became a book about — as so many of our books are stories are about — What Does It Mean To Be Human, with a side of We’re All Better When We Help Each Other, instead of Padi’s Grand Adventures on the Loop.

In my naivety — writers are — no, I can’t say that. There are writers out there who are Positive, Firm, and Stern; they take No Nonsense from their characters, and they are Realists about the business of their craft. That’s admirable, and I’m in awe.

So I should say that, yes, I’m a wanderer, naive and gormless; quite often amazed, and delighted, with the process of writing and the shines that the characters get up to.

Thus! In my naivety, I initially thought that this book I’m working on now, nameless as it remains, would take up the Iverson Loop, only — Shan was going to Tinsori Light (so far as he knows), and he had arranged for people to meet him there to assist in bringing systems and protocols into the present, and there’s still the on-going business of never mind cleaning, but scouring the old core, and getting those repair bays gone, oh! gone and — here we are at Catalinc Station.

And, I should say, I’m having a tolerably good time there, though the characters have informed me that, while my concerns are worthy, and they will certainly see those items I mention taken care of in good time, there are Other Matters that More Nearly Concern Them, which they’ll be taking care of, front and center, and wouldn’t I be better for a nice cup of tea over there in the corner and out of their way?

Readers have for the last — oh, three? four? — books been reporting that the title they’ve just finished reading is The Last Liaden Book. In fact, there are three (3!) more (more!) Liaden books under contract — the one I’m working on right now, and two others. I’m not going to tell you what the other two are about, because, as I’ve just demonstrated, I’ll probably be wrong. It is, as I’ve also said before, my Goal to give readers a soft landing, and the characters each a solid and sustainable base from which to go forward and grow, on their own, if need be. It’s not like they really need authorial guidance.

Well.

Thank you for listening to my TED Talk.

But you and I, we’ve been through that

Begin as you mean to go on…

SNIPPET ONE:
The red was beyond excellent. Jen Sin closed his eyes, the better to savor it, and heard Val Con speak.

“I see you’re refining Theo’s taste. But, the jade, Brother? Surely you might have taught her to drink something a bit less dear.”

“It’s not quite so dear,” answered the rich voice of his cousin Shan, “when you have a connection, and a discount. And the jade suits her.”

What went before: So, that’s 1,121 new words written today in two shifts, bringing the WIP entire to +/-56,880 words.

Had a good chat with my friends at Holy Cannoli, where I can attest that the pumpkin chocolate chip cookies are still delicious.

I thought it was going to rain, and it did drizzle a little, but I had been promised a thunderstorm, to usher in a cooler tomorrow, and I’d still kinda like that, please.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served up and consumed, and I’m about to pour myself a glass of wine and go see if I’m still annoyed with Dr. Who, or if I can finish watching the episode I bailed on — a week ago? Two? Whatever.

I have an early appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow, and then I’m pretty much Free until Tuesday.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Sunny and cooler. Windows OPEN. Station air is convenient, but I really prefer ambient conditions.

Woke up earlier than I had planned. Turns out that all four cats were low on snuggles, so we did that for a while before I got up and found, yanno, clothes.

The rosebush has survived another night; no sign of digging activity, though it did rain a little last night, so I’ll have to re-up the hot pepper.

Breakfast was a peach cut up into cottage cheese with tea. More tea to hand, and probably more tea after that. I’ll probably make salmon cakes for lunch; which is, among other things, guaranteed leftovers.

My phone updated itself last night, always an exciting time. The best new toy is a button that will allegedly identify music playing nearby. I used it successfully twice, but now it’s not working, or maybe Google doesn’t recognize Bon Jovi’s “Lay Your Hands on Me,” which I would say the chances of that are…low.

Anyhoots — it’s still early, so I guess I’d better do some of the chores I was going to do later, so I have more time to work, later.

I do have a doctor’s appointment at 10, and a short stop at the grocery after, but that’s all I’ve got to write about.

I can share another SNIPPET, for those who may be interested. Shan and Val Con are in rare form, I fear:

“However, if Val Con wishes to come the disapproving banker – “

Val Con raised his hands. “Acquit me! The red is everything that is wonderful, Master Trader, and I will prove my word by shortly having another glass. I thank you for your generosity on behalf of us all.”

Shan eyed him. “I sense an upcoming bid for my cook.”

“That,” Val Con returned primly, “is not for me to decide.”

“I believe you enjoy saying that,” Shan said.

“I believe I do, too,” Val Con answered, cordially.

And that said! What’s everybody doing today?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Jimi Hendrix, “All Along the Watchtower”

Cat tax  Rookie and Firefly being coy, each in their own manner

 

In which Rookie went There and Back Again

What went before ONE: So, that’s +/-690 new words this morning before I quit to do some necessary chores and find out what’s for lunch. The Manuscript Entire is presently at +/-55,765.

I may or may not get back to the manuscript this afternoon after we get back from the vet. I may instead do the cat box change out in the basement, and take an early evening.

Trooper is now smacking me in the arm, demanding another snack, so that’s my cue.

What went before TWO: Rookie the Cookie, 16 months old, weighed on the Vet’s Official Scale, a cool 13 pounds-point-nothing. He is pronounced Healthy, Well-Grown, Solid, and Drop-Dead Gorgeous.

He has gotten his three-year distemper, and his rabies vaccine.

I regret to say that he swore loudly and with feeling all the way to the vet’s. He was much quieter on the way home, where I made myself strawberry shortcake with whipped cream, and Rook got a splurk of whipped cream. He is now sleeping the sleep of the guy who just got home after an adventure, and I’m going downstairs to change out the necessaries, after which it will be a shower and maybe some embroidery for me.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

So! Thursday. Dim and damp and not as cool as I would like. Maybe tomorrow.

Breakfast was the last slice of roast beast with the last slice of Swiss cheese on multigrain bread with a side of cherries. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will be — ah. Strawberry shortcake? Oh. With ice cream. And chocolate sauce. That’s all the food groups, isn’t it?

Rookie has bounced back from yesterday’s adventures and vaccines. He was not so much inclined to Cat Dance last night, being content to watch Firefly and Tali show off their moves, and he went to bed in the loft in Steve’s office early in the evening. But he’s on the move this morning, so all’s well, and we need Never Speak of It Again.

I worked on my current embroidery project last night while I finished listening to These Old Shades. I don’t think I had realized that this was Heyer’s second Regency; it’s such a leap forward from The Black Moth that I had always assumed she had written it much later, even given the Easter Eggs from Moth that are included.

The embroidery is going very quickly; it’s really simple, being mostly straight and back stitches. I have another couple kits, and I have some transfers coming. Maybe I’ll embroider a shirt next…

I had not reported yesterday that someone had tried to dig up the rosebush on the overnight. I repaired the damage, thought about putting gravel around it, but didn’t do. It looks undisturbed this morning, so — fingers crossed there.

Critter relocation has not called back. Need to call the next on the list today.

Also today, meeting friends for coffee this afternoon. Before that — one’s duty to the cats, and some writing are on-board.

So! What’s for lunch at your house today?

The aim of waking is to dream

SNIPPET:

“We ain’t so full up at Jelaza Kazone right at present,” she said.

“No.” He turned on his heel to gaze at her. “The clan is much reduced, I know. In my day, you could buy cousins in lots of a dozen. Come into the kitchen at any hour, and you would be certain to meet a hand or more of them, eating, drinking, playing, as I said, at cards; reading – and quarreling, naturally. We are a quarrelsome lot. Or were. Perhaps our manners are by necessity better, without numbers to back us.”

What went before: Well. It has been an unexpectedly productive day. I haven’t quite finished the laundry, though there’s still time for that to happen. I fed myself lunch, cleaned up the kitchen, put the clean towels away, did my duty the cats, took a walk, and!

Wrote. I really REALLY like this scene, at +/-780 new words, which leaves the WIP entire a breath short of +/-54,000. Perhaps tomorrow, since I know what the scene after this scene is — though not exactly after this one, but — oh, never mind. I’m declaring a victory for the write-what-you-like school of drafting today.

I also need to check in with the smoke detector, which failed to start screaming when I opened the oven to retrieve lunch and a billowing cloud of olive-oil scented smoke emerged. Possibly, it was unset during dusting and needs its button pushed. If it needs a new battery, I will be very cross, since it’s supposed to have a 10-year battery onboard.

I discovered when I was folding socks last night that I was missing one, and, as mandated in The Manual, went back to make sure it wasn’t still in the dryer, or in the hamper, or on the floor, but could discover no sign of it. Well. I hadn’t paid the Portal Tax for a while, so I was … unhappy, but not distraught. This morning, when I moved the towel hamper to start loading the washer, I found the missing sock behind it. I call Feline Shenanigans. Which is, I admit, better than the Portal Tax.

Anywise. I have to do some desk prep for tomorrow — new to-do list and whatnot. And eventually, it will be Coon Cat Happy Hour. But, really, I’m done for the day, and well-satisfied with my accomplishments.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Well. Monday, I believe. Cloudy and said to be on and off rainy. I’m up but not at ’em and am drinking a motivational cup of tea while I address the internets.

The rosebush has survived its second night in the garden.

Trooper has had his first snack of the day, the one with the probiotic stirred into it, and is now resting comfortably on the copilot’s chair. Firefly is staring at me from the observation table next to the window, possibly attempting to indicate on the Cat Telepathy Channel that she, too, would like a bowl of Delectable gravy. Tali (Wrasslin’ Name TaliBOOM) and Rook (Wrasslin’ Name Rookie the Cookie) are alternatively wrasslin’ and zooming.

The writer, Yr Hmbl Correspondent, is really struggling to keep her eyes open, here.

sips tea

On today’s menu — a haircut! The timing of this blessed event suggests that I’ll be stopping at Holy Cannoli to pick up something to take home for lunch, or perhaps I’ll opt to eat there, and sit in the window, brooding over Main Street in the Grand Romantical Style. We shall see.

Also on today’s task list: one’s duty to the cats, playing with the smoke detector (I failed to finish that yesterday, having found the instruction booklet), and trying to figure out why the electric broom (essential to my plan to keep the basement stairs free of dust and fur) doesn’t, err, suck. Also, I want to write.

That seems like a full day, right there. Of course, I deliberately maintain a low bar.

I do think that’s all the news from this location. I really need to finish my tea and go find pants. And a shirt, too, I suppose. And then I hope to be awake enough to hunt the wily Everything Bagel.

And how are you this morning?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by e e cummings, “in time of daffodils“

Every day you get more more yard

What went before ONE: The rose in its new home. I have done many foolish things today and it’s not even 10 am.

What went before TWO: So, while I was outside anyway, putting a rosebush into the ground, I weeded, and cleaned up the mess on the deck, discovering in the process that the pot the rose had been in was broken in the fracas.

When I came back in, after having expended some frustration, I swallowed some muscle relaxants, and iced my back while listening to These Old Shades. After lunch, I took a smol nap, with Firefly’s expert oversight. I sat with the WIP for a bit and actually recorded an idea I had through an app on my phone, and sent! the! transcript! to myself at Gmail. It’s really quite a good transcription. I’m impressed.

We are now nigh on to Coon Cat Happy Hour. Once that’s served up, I’ll have something to eat in order to buffer another dose of muscle relaxants and retire to mine bed with a cup of tea and These Old Shades and hopefully get a good night’s sleep.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Sunday. Cloudy and damp.

I am pleased to report that the rosebush has survived its first night in the front garden. I managed to have some solid sleep on that same overnight, and! have an idea for a scene that should be fun to write. Yes, yes, I know: a novel is not just a string of amusing scenes, but at this point, I’ll take what I’ve got, reminding myself that Salvage Right was a string of amusing scenes, which I then had to patch together with a series of bridges. So, it can be done.

The first load of towels is in the washer.

Breakfast is just about finished with the cooking part — sausage and cheese on a biscuit. Tea is brewed.

. . . and there’s the bell. BRB.

. . .and back. Breakfast was good. Not healthy according to the cancer ladies, but I ate breakfast and that’s a win. I have at least one yam, so lunch is covered; arguably, even a healthy lunch.

I wish to mention here that Rookie the Cookie’s Best Trick Ever is coming when he’s called, and if he cannot come when he’s called, by reason, perhaps, of having gotten himself locked in a closet again, he will call out in answer multiple times, if necessary, until he’s let out, whereupon, he will stand up on his hind legs and demand a cuddle.

This brought to you by Rook got locked into the linen closet while I was changing out the towels, and had no idea he was even in the hall.

My back aches the tiniest bit and I have, out of an Abundance of Caution, taken one more dose of muscle relaxants, and That — fingers crossed — ought to be the end of THAT.

So, I got When the Moon Hits Your Eye out of the library last Tuesday, and I’ve been reading a chapter or two at lunch to distract myself. So far, so good, though I did not expect a retelling of recent current events couched in metaphor. Notice me heroically avoid “whey.”

My quandary is that I’m also reading These Old Shades in audio; I’ve read the first chapter of A Gentleman of Questionable Judgement; and! the first few pages of Stone and Sky, and that’s too many books open, especially for someone who used to be a One Book At A Time reader. Given that I’m also writing a book, that’s a little too much to keep in my head at once, so I’m cutting back, and will finish …Shades and …Moon, then flip a coin — actually, no, I won’t flip a coin, I’ll go back to Stone and Sky, because the arrival of Peter’s entire family, plus representatives of The Folly, with a fox, was too funny to put on hold for long.

All that said! How’s everybody doing? And — bonus question — what are you reading?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Mr. Tom Petty, assisted by Mr. Eddie Vedder, “The Waiting”

Photo from yesterday afternoon:  Disheveled and Marvelous

Adventures in jewelry

What went before ONE: So that’s scary. I got up to walk around the corner and get something out of the printer, and — one of my earrings fell out.

But that’s not the scary part. I found the earring, but I can’t find the back — yanno, just one of those tiny little silvery lock things? Looked everywhere with my friend Mr. Flashlight, looked inside my shirt, looked, yeah, everywhere, because who knows when it went AWOL and I just hadn’t moved my head sharply enough to dislodge the ring?

Finally wound up vacuuming the whole house, and still no certainty that I found it. It’s not the loss of the backing I’m worried about; it the loose piece of metal on (possibly) the floor with four floor inspectors on-paw.

Argh. Now I get to breathe deeply and try to get back to work.

And I say again — argh.

What went before TWO: Six hundred sixty-one new words today.

Didn’t finish my scene, and also didn’t find the back to my earring. The WIP is now +/-52,400 words and the little piece of silver is on the knees of Bast; I’ve done everything I can.

I hear there’s supposed to be a splendid full moon tonight. Of course, it will be cloudy here in Central Maine. Honestly, you could make a calendar.

Speaking of calendars — one of our needlework members is newly arrived in Central Maine from Arizona and she was remarking on how late it stayed light here. Which — official sunset is 8:30, but it’s not really DARK until 10/10:30. Turns out in Tucson, sunset is at 7:30? In JULY? How is that even a thing? And then I remembered back in 1999, when I had to travel to the San Antonio Worldcon, and I’d gotten up at Maine Rising Time, and — it was still dark out. On account the sun don’t be rising in San Antonio until 6:45, Texas Time, and at home, where we do these things normally, the sun rises at 5 am, but it’s light enough to drive at 4.

So, that’s the news and babbling from hereabouts.

Tomorrow morning, I have errands and an appointment with the chiropractor, where, this being the end of my second two-week adjustment plan, I’m hoping to receive good news. Tomorrow afternoon, I hope to complete today’s scene and maybe start another.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

So. Friday. Cloudy and damp. Once again the call is for rain. We Shall See.

I have been to the grocery, the post office, Reny’s, Day’s, and the chiropractor. I tried to stop at the latte truck, but they weren’t open when I went by at 8:30ish. Probably just as well.

Consultation with the chiropractor has produced a schedule of weekly visits, stretching out to every three weeks. First session of the new schedule being next Friday (unless something goes bad before that). And we’ll see how that goes. Fingers crossed.

Took on a crazy flowered shirt at Reny’s, as well as sox, butter chicken sauce, jasmine rice, and hangers, since I apparently have a hanger-eating gremlin infestation in the laundry room.

At Day’s, I acquired new backs for the earrings that I lost one back to, yesterday. The new ones made a very satisfying CLICK when I shoved them onto the post, so I have some confidence that these will stay where they’re put.

The butter chicken sauce and the jasmine rice will join the last pork chop in the joyous celebration of lunch. Honestly, I don’t know how people can be enthused about eating three times a day, every day, 365 days a year. Hoping that the slight weirdness of today’s lunch will renew a flagging interest in food. I’m trying to stave off the part where I’ll take anything — ice cream! a doughnut! — as long as I’ve eaten something.

Once I finish this dispatch, I will throw a load of shirts in the washer, make (and eat) lunch, then get with writing.

How’s everybody doing today?