’cause the cops don’t need you, and man they expect the same

Rain, rain, and, for a change, rain. One source claims five inches of liquid fell from the sky since last night. I can believe that.

The coon cats early took up a position in the bed, and have been holding steady most of the afternoon. I’ve been working on a short story, in between bits of bookkeeping and non-writing trivia. I really ought to do the dishes, but they may have to wait until tomorrow.

Take that, dishes!

Tomorrow, the weatherbeans promise more rain — actually, the weatherbeans are calling five days of rain. Apparently there’s a Weather System hanging over the Great Lakes, just a-spinning up water and spitting out rain, and it doesn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

Tomorrow being Monday, I have phone calls to make. At the top of the list is a call to the doctor’s office. My left shoulder and back have just about froze solid, and nothing I know to do, and have done, since we’ve got home from Kansas City has helped. I see physical therapy in my very near future, dammit.

The other pressing call is to Himself, to schedule a time when I can visit the shop, stick in hand, and talk t-shirts: sizes, color, cost, and the inevitable etcetera. As soon as we have those corners nailed down, I’ll report back.

Oh! We used one of the new pans today to reheat the spaghetti we had for dinner earlier in the week, and it was a dream. No stick, indeed! Also? Leftover mushroom and meatball spaghetti for the win!

No, I’m not sure how we cope with the unending scintillation that is the life of a working artist, either.

So, what did y’all do this weekend? Raining where you are?

Progress on Landed Alien
1,078/6,000 words OR 18% complete

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.