rolanni | And she is moving very slowly, rising up above the earth

So, here we are in 2020. I've been warned not to date checks with just /20, because some Bad People could just add, oh "19" to that and steal my check. I'm sure that's good advice, but, really I hardly write checks anymore, and when I do, I always date them fully, to wit: "January 4, 2020," because old habits die hard, if they die at all.

In related news, many-to-all (depending on your news source) of the credit unions in Maine are off-line as the result of mysterious "connectivity problem." This is not as much fun as it may at first seem.

We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory are clinging to our last few precious Not-Sundays. There's writing to do and writing being done, as well as chores, of a sort, but it's all being done in a soft bubble, almost a "deadline free zone," which we all know there's no such thing, but -- it's been pleasant to pretend for a week or two.

Deadlines and doctors appointments return Monday morning, quite early, so we'll be getting back into the Daily Push realsoonnow.

My first-in task today is to clean the so-called Boy's Bathroom, and to steam clean the kitchen floor. After that, there's the final sweep at the WIP. After much banging my head against various metaphorical, logical, and fictional walls, I have figured out how to straighten the last kink in the last scene. Go me. The entire corrected manuscript ought, I think, be on its way to Madame by the end of the week, and then? I won't have anything to do. [Cue laugh track]

Looking ahead, Steve and I will be attending Boskone in mid-February, and! We will be Guests of Honor at NarniaCon, aka the Coat Check Con. NarniaCon hosts a scavenger hunt within Boskone entire; this year's hunt will be based on the game of Clue.

. . .and that's where we stand at the moment, still inside the bubble, with the cats napping inside, and the sky grey with snow clouds, outside.

Today's blog title brought to you by one of my hometown bands, Talking Heads: And She Was.