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My beacon's been moved under moon and star
Sunday, July 27th, 2025 09:27 amWhat went before ONE: All righty, then! Duty to the cats accomplished; walk walked; vacuuming and mopping done; grapes and cheese had for second breakfast; realized that every word I wrote yesterday is unnecessary, sigh, though the exercise did demonstrate what was necessary. Next up is my lunch, which will be a frozen box, because that's exactly how ambitious I'm feeling.
I did not put my latest embroidery into my book -- won't fit for one thing. Instead, I sewed it to the hoop and hung it in the bedroom, where I'll be able to see the Ribbons every day.
People want to know where I got the pattern, answering being "From a friend who was reducing her stash by increasing mine." But! If you search of "Tales from the Hoop" you will find the Etsy shop from which it was purchased.
Trooper nagged me for food throughout all of the above, and I did serve him, but he's not actually eating food today, just ordering it.
The weatherbeans that it's 82F outside and the AQI is 154. We are, yes, on Station Air.
This has been your mid-day check-in.
What went before TWO: I have no idea how many new words I wrote today. Somewhere north of 1,390, but since I had to frog a scene -- like I said: no idea.
The WIP entire now weighs in at +/-64,540.
In Other News, the page proofs for the anniversary edition of I Dare (first published by Meisha Merlin in February 2002) have landed and need to be back to the publisher by August 12. It's printing out even as I type this.
Word production on the WIP may slow somewhat. Also? Reading I Dare at this juncture is going to be Interesting in several ways.
I Dare of course was the seventh book of the seven book series Steve and I had initially intended to write, and is also the book that introduces Theo Waitley.
Good thing I bought ahead on Irish Breakfast Tea.
We have entered the Time-Space Continuum known as Coon Cat Happy Hour, so I'll be getting up to serve in a minute.
Trooper has begged for food constantly today, and rejects all but bisque. He has eaten three envelopes of bisque, so that's at least something. I am . . . not quite very worried. Not quite.
And on that note -- everybody stay safe.
I'll see you tomorrow.
What went before THREE: Oh, Skydance's conditions-of-sale guarantees actually helps me make sense of the farewell monologue from the host of After Midnight, in which she says she had honestly expected that the network would replace the host, not shut down the show. But the show's executive producer was Stephen Colbert, and the host was a female stand-up comic about whom I know nothing, but that is, honestly, Just Me. She seemed very genuine in her opening remarks, including the thanks to her team and her guests and educating the audience in exactly how much work goes into putting on a show every. single. day. She remarked several times that people had said she was the only person who could have pulled this show off, and that, no, there were many many talented people who could have done it, some of whom she had been certain would be tapped for her replacement. (To be clear: she had decided, after two years, to leave TV and go back to her True Calling, doing live Stand Up, so she tendered her resignation, believing she would be replaced as host.)
It's an interesting commentary. You can find it on Youtube.
But, Skydance! Skydance, as part of the conditions of sale has sworn to root out those in the former Paramount/CBS organization who are female, disabled, mean or sarcastic to little men with no souls, and abolish wokeness in all its flavors.
And, yanno, that's not scary at all.
Is it?
Sunday. Sunny, breezy, and not warm yet. My office windows are open for the cats, but I expect I'll have to go to Station Air mid-morning. We still stand, or, yanno, sit, beneath an Active Air Quality Alert. Apparently a Dark Plume of Particulates is extending itself over the region. Huzzah.
I slept for 7 hours and 44 minutes, it says here. Trooper did not smack me in the face, once. I attribute this miracle to sleeping with the covers pulled over my head, which was made possible by the cpap machine. Finally I find a good side to the damned device.
I've been kinda mooching around since I got up, doing the Sunday Slow Rise. It's been . . . different. Different is good, I'm told.
Breakfast was homemade whole wheat toast, cottage cheese, and grapes. Lunch will be I Have No Idea. I will say that my experiment of meatballs and red sauce over bread the other day proved that this concept, um, needs work. Sadly, I have meatballs and red sauce left over -- and absolutely no motivation to eat it.
As mentioned last night, the page proofs for the "anniversary" edition of I DARE (tradepaper, it says here, and I've written for confirmation that this is so), have landed. That's 433 pages and 16 days, which means I need to Absolutely Read 27 pages a day. I'll try for 50, because that will give me wiggle room, in case the sky falls and I can't read one day.
Because my office is in Middle of Book Chaos, I'll be setting the proofreading project up in Steve's office, which ought to confuse the cats, so that's worth doing.
So, recapping -- Today's to-do includes one's duty to the cats, finding something to eat for lunch, proofing 50 pages of I Dare, and, should there be time and brain power, writing new words.
How's your Sunday treating you?
Today's blog post title courtesy of Golden Earring, "Twilight Zone."
For rosebush fans, proof of life:
