Eagles Over the Kennebec

Starting the day with sunshine

Mon, 27 Apr 2026 14:50:32 GMT

Monday. Sunny and already warm. All the windows are open and the cats are lounging in the breeze from the sliders in Steve's office.

The first load of towels needs to be taken out of the dryer and the second load put in.

The area rugs and runners are outside and over the rails, taking the sun. My deck chair and table are set up and ready for use.

Regarding the deck chair. When I got it out of the closet where it overwintered, there were five springs taking shelter beneath its skirts. FIVE.

For book club, I'm reading A Gentleman in Moscow, which I'm enjoying. It strikes me that this may have been what Theo of Golden was striving for, and, err, didn't achieve.

Since I just recently read Balance of Trade, I started Trade Secret last night, wherein I note that the Young Gentleman reveals to us The Plan. I believe that Jen Sin reviled the Young Gentleman's clan in Salvage Right, and also said something about The Plan, which I will need to check.

Honest to ghu, this universe is tight. The authors must've have a million databases. *cough*.

I have a couple titles that will fit in the small blank stars on the front of the Starry Shirt, so I'm getting those ready to be embroidered.

And! I have not yet heard from D2D customer service, which is not surprising, and I really don't expect to hear from them this week.

I believe I need to step out for a few minutes to hit the TJMaxx in-town, and also the Hannaford. P'rhaps I'll get the car washed. I have a pass, after all.

How's everybody doing this fine Monday morning?

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And on Tuesday . . .

Tue, 21 Apr 2026 13:56:55 GMT

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. Haven't gotten the trash out yet, but I've got time.

There have been at least a dozen rescue vehicles going screaming down the road in the last ten minutes, all heading south, and now it's quiet. Too quiet.

. . . yeah.

The book club met yesterday afternoon at Holy Cannoli and engaged in a wide-ranging discussion, some of it . . . and there goes another one, the second attack wagon I've seen . . . some of it, as I was saying, about Theo of Golden, which found a more appreciative audience among the other two-thirds of the gathered readers than it found with me. Next book: A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles.

I finished formatting the Fey Duology yesterday. This does not mean it's ready for release, but that it's formatted. Formatting is a looooonnnngggg job, but not the only job. I'll be getting back to the tasks remaining on the road to publication, eh. Thursday-ish.

Today? Is chores. I have two numbers for folks who fix dishwashers, so I'll be making phone calls, and washing dishes, and changing out cat fountains. Also need to sit with Googlemaps and make sure I have my directions for Northern Solstice Alpaca Farm, since I'm not just going out for a ride, and happen to go by the alpacas, which is a handy place to pull over and take in the view.

This evening is craft group. Tomorrow morning, as above, the Great Alpaca-ing.

But, first? Breakfast. There must be something in this house for breakfast...

What did you have for breakfast?

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Follow the compass that beats in your chest

Wed, 15 Apr 2026 14:36:29 GMT

Wednesday. Grey, damp, and warm.

Today is the day I was to have turned Kin Right in to Baen.

I have a bunch of clerical tasks to finish with today, so that's what will be happening. I also need to chop and freeze onions, figure out if I can freeze lemons, and also sliced deli ham (I went a little nuts at the grocery and bought a fresh-deli pack of black forest ham and another, of baby Swiss, because damn, I miss ham sandwiches). My desire having been somewhat slaked, I realize that I had better freeze what's left and parcel it out later.

Lunch will be a salad, on account I have lettuce, tomato, cooked potatoes, pickled beets, olives, cottage cheese, and I can have tuna, if the whim so takes me. Breakfast was ham and Swiss on whole wheat with mustard. Third mug of tea is brewing.

The cats have relocated themselves to the front of the house, which is where my office is located. No one is actually in my office with me at the moment, but all are within the sound of my keyboard.

I started reading Longeye last night, and have yet to encounter porn. I will backtrack to Duainfey briefly, reminded as I was by the audiobook company that sought out the Fey Books, signed a contract, and then pulled out, giving as their reason, and I quote: "Chapter Thirty-Seven!"

Now, Chapter Thirty-Seven is ... hard. Even very hard. Or, one might say, effective. Not porn, and I contend that no one would have paled, had Our Heroine instead been multiply and terribly wounded in a gun fight, or tied to a post and whipped.

I further note that we apparently have always wanted to talk about Power's drive to subsume and control Art/Soul/Love/Innocence.

What else?

Ah! A book came across my newsfeed -- Falling Forward, which apparently discusses the Myth of Resilience. As someone who still finds herself saying at least once a day, "I can't do this," I'm interested in what this book has to say, and I wonder if anyone here has read it, and what you thought.

I think that's it for the Morning Edition.

Today's blog post title brought to you by Sail North, "Compass."

Here, have a picture of Rookie before he jumped up into my chair in the dining room and went to sleep:

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Vampyres and Technology

Tue, 14 Apr 2026 15:43:34 GMT

Tuesday. Suddenly, it's Spring. Trash and recycling patiently awaiting pickup at the curb.

I have been to tithe the Vampyres, who have got New Technology. It had used to be that you entered the lab area, took a number and were, in the fullness of time, Called. Now! You enter your name into a tablet, and it appears on the Big Screen in the waiting area. Occasionally, the Big Screen pings brightly, and a name is shown, with directions underneath. I input my name and sat reading for some time before my name went up in lights and I was directed to Station Number Two for logging in, after which I was returned to the waiting area, this time to wait for a call-code to appear under my name on the screen. I sat down, verified that I had finish reading my book, of which more anon -- and the screen went down.

I swear I had nothing to do with this. All I did was say, so that the receptionist on duty could hear, "Technology! Screen's down." Then, as I had finished my book, I pulled out my phone to check my mail (and the guy next to me, on the assumption that he knew all about my intentions, said, "That won't do you any good." Really?), the receptionist called for Olivia, who appeared to reset the screen, and my name was called to enter the lab.

Blood was drawn, the tech was interested in the symbol on my shirt (Tree-and-Dragon), I made answer, was favored with the information that the tech's granddaughter loves science fiction and went to bookstores and belonged to a book club, and all. I offered a card so her granddaughter could look for our stuff; the asked for several to share with other book loving friends, and we parted on good terms.

I stopped at Washville on my way home and came home richer by a clean car and a subscription, so now I won't have to hassle the card reader at the gate, which I use for an excuse to not wash the car when it's needed. Hopefully, this circumstance, and the fact that Washville is slightly less horrifying in its methods than Golden Nozzle, may help me keep the car better.

So, Duainfey. Yep, there are a couple of tough scenes, but no porn, and the reflective arcs of story are perfectly fine. It is Dark, but, being as that's As Advertised, this is a Feature not a Bug.

I have just finished eating a cookie with a mug of tea, and as soon as I post this missive to the internets, I'll be making rice, which I neglected to do yesterday, and also washing the bedclothes, which likewise didn't happen yesterday. On the bed itself, I think I need to change out the Deep Winter blanket for the waffle-weave, and! I need to write an email, do my duty the cats, find lunch, and eventually wander out to the library to get crafty.

What've you got going today?

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Cultural Genetics

Mon, 13 Apr 2026 15:26:08 GMT

Monday. Cloudy and damp. Bed's been stripped, towels are drying, eggs on to be boiled hard, submitted news of LUC6's imminent publication to MWPA's newsletter. Sea Shanties streaming. Apparently the week's theme is Sea Shanties.

Waiting for a friend to come by and pick up a thing, after which I b'lieve I'll wander out into the day and perform this list of errands.

Many thanks to all (on FB) who weighed in on yesterday's discussions regarding cultural relativity.

I'm a little past the half-way point in Duainfey. Altimere's invention has been proved, and I haven't seen any porn yet. I do see that we were very subtle on the SF underpinings, which is to say, I knew it was a First Contact novel, and Steve knew it was a First Contact novel, but we might've been the only ones. Though one of course must feel for poor Charlie Mason, taken up by the Purity League for building his steam carriage. Also, Points to the authors for that very telling discussion of duty in which Altimere likens his care for Becca to her care for her horse.

What else? Not much. Oh. I'm feeling some sharper today, which tells me that not only is writing a book much more wearing using only one brain, but recovery takes longer. Information, I suppose.

How's everybody holding up?

One of the other things roused up out of muck at the bottom of my brain relative to yesterday's conversation -- there had used to be what were called "racy" or "naughty" novels. The Night Life of the Gods by Thorne Smith is my benchmark "naughty" novel, though Topper will do in a pinch (I adore Topper; I'd read it again, if I wasn't afraid the book will fall apart on me). It seems to me that there are no more "naughty" novels, though I'd be pleased to be proved wrong (titles, anybody?), that we have various kinds of Romances -- sweet, sexy, hot, and so on -- and of course we have porn, but nothing that's just ... bawdily flirtatious.

Someone in yesterday's discussions mentioned Nick and Nora Charles, who were more flirtatious than naughty; they teased each other: elegantly, wittily, playfully, sexually. It was play, and illustrated that they each felt safe in their partnership and with each other.

One of the things that continually startles me, in my Brave New World, is how carefree ("carefree" meaning "free of care") and playful I was able to feel, knowing that I had backup, and genuine affection in my life.

Anyhoots! The eggs are cooling, and I need to get the towels out of the dryer.

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Friday wrap-up

Fri, 10 Apr 2026 23:04:53 GMT

". . . while the Tree cheered rain-lash and lightning."

I'm not going to remember which convention it was -- aside it was a southern con -- standing in the Dealer's Room, describing this scene to Stephe Pagel, and being so very pleased with it. Stephe perhaps more befuddled than pleased, but he Lacked Context.

Also? The black dragon's last flight . . . those kids (in their mid-50s at the time) could write a sentence or two. Yeah. Wow.

The cats are informing me that it's Happy Hour, which it isn't quite, yet. OTOH, a glass of wine would be welcome to the bartender, so Happy Hour it is.

Everybody stay safe. I'll check in tomorrow.

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Friday, and the adventures thereof

Fri, 10 Apr 2026 17:30:15 GMT

Friday. Sunny and warm. All of the windows and the new sliders in Steve's office are open.

I was very sluggard rising from my nest this morning, ate a lettuce, cheese, and tomato sandwich on whole wheat bread for breakfast. Went down to The! Studio! set up my grinder and ground me some glass, though not, I note, ALL the glass. I was a grownup about this, and set a timer for an hour. Sadly, some of my time was used up by having to reset the fuse I blew when I turned the grinder on. Apparently the former workshop, where there was Honest to Ghu equipment still on the benches when we toured, pre-purchase, can't handle two electric radiators, two lights and a grinder. This may be a problem if I need to grind in the winter. We shall see.

After glass, I changed out the cat boxes, vacuumed the basement, took a nice, relaxing shower, and came out to find that FedEx has delivered my tea -- someplace else. The amusing thing about this is that when you got to FedEx and tell them that they misdelivered the package? The advice is to tell the seller. Because the seller had Nothing to do with putting the package on what looks to be a pallet on roller skates someplace that isn't here.

I did write to Upton, in hopes of either my money back, which would be said, as I really actually wanted the tea, or if they can unbend enough to send by an alternate carrier -- UPS and the post office can find this house just fine -- another shipment. We shall see.

Lunch, which I will begin to reheat as soon as I finish this letter to the Internets, will be leftover stir-fry. After, I fully intend to find a chair in a window and finish reading Crystal Dragon. My goodness, does Rool Tiazan have a way with a ley line.

How's everybody doing today?

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The music make her want to be the story

Sat, 04 Apr 2026 15:29:09 GMT

Important Stuff First: I saw Firefly's tail at Full Upward Extension last night. This morning, she's preferring half-mast, which may mean it's hurting her still. I can give her the pain meds at noon, and will be doing so. She did come to snuggle with me when I thought I was going to get up this morning, so we stayed in bed a little longer, talking about how scary That Whole Thing was and how was she feeling now, and articles I'd read about dogs who'd broken their tails and had to get them amputated before there was Serious Damage gone to their spines, and how I'd been really, really scared that she'd gotten cancer wrapped around her spine like her Aunt Sprite, and -- well. We promised each other not to do this again.

A little later, she joined me for our sitting-in-the-sunlight session.

Yesterday afternoon, I made an appointment to walk an alpaca at Northern Solstice Farm in a couple weeks. There will be a meet 'n greet with the alpaca who agreed to walk with me that day, who will already have donned halter and lead, then an approximately 30 minute stroll either around the farm, or, if conditions aren't too squishy, on a trail through the woods. Now I remember why I have hiking boots. I'm really looking forward to this, and glad I didn't let myself talk myself out of it.

Other than that, and actually related to the alpaca walk, I'm trying to unfold myself -- which is to say, to find the way back out of my head after the Intense Concentration required to finish Kin Right on time and correctly. Steve would have had us out and about, walking up and down the world, breathing the air, taking photographs, eating out, and striking up conversations with strangers chance-met on beaches, in train stations, or in stores.

I . . . am not that ambitious, left to myself, and the timing's a little unfortunate, as I find it's Easter weekend (how did that happen?). So, unfolding will take the shape of puttering around, straightening up, making hummus, blowing the dust off of my poor, abandoned glass project, maybe finding another movie/tv show to lightly binge, and planning a ride for next Wednesday or Thursday, when the weather is expected to be warmer and sunny.

The secret of writing is that you can't write all the time. So -- aside an infodump, and blog posts, no Writing here at the Confusion Factory for the next bit.

Reading, though . . . I've finished reading Balance of Trade, and also Theo of Golden. I'm about half-way through Seeking Persephone, and after that? Crystal Soldier. Speaking of literary whiplash.

And I think that catches us up.

Here's a picture of Firefly, from this morning's sunshine session:

Today's blog post title brought to you by Dire Straits, "Skateaway"

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So, you want to be a writer

Fri, 27 Mar 2026 23:54:01 GMT

So, where are we? Ah. Friday. Cloudy and colder than the last couple days. Haircut scheduled for this afternoon; before that, more reading of Kin Right.

Drafted "Melant'i Refresher for Terrans" to go into the front of Kin Right, pointing to the Cast of Characters in the back. Was reminded in so doing about the dog who was our outfielder back when I was eight or so and playing pick-up baseball at the local rec center. We couldn't keep the dog off the field, so we made him The Outfielder. He fielded for both sides instead of batting. Helluva outfielder, that dog.

What else?

Rookie got locked in the bedroom closet, and missed breakfast. He's making up for that now.

I think that's all I've got, really. The Exciting Life of a Writer, ayuh.

What're you doing that's exciting today?
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Tali helping me edit in the Command Chair

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So, Kathy talked me out of a buzz cut. After the new 'do, I walked over to Holy Cannoli and bought two lemon-blueberry ricotta cheese cookies -- one just eaten with a mug of tea, and one for tomorrow. I really ought to learn how to make ricotta cheese cookies. Or, yanno, maybe safer not to.

Rook is sleeping in the copilot's chair at my desk (as different from Steve's desk), while I take my first stab at a list of characters for Kin Right. This? Is going to be An Undertaking.

Next book, I swear -- one character and nothing happens to them.

I have about 100 pages to read in Kin Right, then 200 pages to enter correx into, then finishing up with the cast of characters and so on. The end, as the saying goes, is in sight.

I'm a little less than half-way through Theo of Golden, and the next meeting of the book club is April 20. I did finish reading Balance of Trade, and I'm going to have to take a step back and given some thought to my reading strategy here. If I'm going to be re-issuing the fey books, I'm going to need to read them, so I may have to break off the Liaden read-through for that. In the meantime, books I preordered last year when I foresaw oodles of time to read -- are starting to download.

Whee...

Well. It's good to have things to do, amirite?

New haircut:

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Reading Past to Present

Tue, 03 Mar 2026 13:11:13 GMT

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. I should get the trash and recycling to the curb -- and I will! But right now it's too cold for your friendly neighborhood author to move. Also the driveway is a sheet of ice, so I'll have to put the ice grippers on my shoes.

Right now, I'm talking to you and drinking chocolate chai tea with half-and-half.

Early question from last night's post! "Haven't those guys ever read anything but SF?"

SHORT ANSWER: Dunno, but -- it's possible.

LONG ANSWER: I've talked about this before, and I'll preface the following iteration by saying that I'm not trying to police anyone's reading habits. Reading fiction is a relaxation. I'm not gonna tell you what beer to drink, either.

That said, and recalling that Local Custom, Scout's Progress, and Mouse and Dragon file under SF -- back when I was an eggling, It. Was. Not. Possible. to only read SF. Even someone who reads slower than I do had to read in a variety of genres, and while that doesn't mean that people not so inclined had to read romance books (which, BTW, did not exist in today's form), they did have to stretch their minds somewhat to encompass the protocols demanded by other genres. Maybe not by much, if they stuck to SF, and SF's first cousin, pornography; action novels, war stories -- but still broader than some people read today.

Because today, it is not only possible to only read SF, it's also possible to only read the teensy, tiny subgenre that you prefer above all others. You never have to read fiction that makes you even the smallest bit uncomfortable, or offers you the opportunity to think a New Thought, or to practice a confusing scenario that that you might well face in RL.

Back in The Day, we were also taught to read. That is, we weren't just taught the words and cut loose. We read out loud in school and answered questions. Now, I learned to read in a Catholic School, (an inaccuracy of its kind, but bear with me) and our primers chronicled the adventures of ... Ann and David, I believe. They were teaching stories and had rather heavy-handed morals. And after we read each little adventure, Sister would ask us -- Why did Ann do That Thing? Why was David worried? What did Mother say that you should all remember?

And I very much fear that the kind of reading lesson where children are taught to engage with the text, with the characters, and think about what the words mean, is a thing of the past, as well.

So! My tea's gone. I think I'll go rustle up some oatmeal.

Everybody have a good day.

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The marvel is not how well the bear dances . . .

Thu, 26 Feb 2026 22:06:03 GMT

What went before: Wednesday. Snowing and partly sunny.

Despite the distress it will of course cause his fandom, I am forced to report that Rookie the Cookie is a Schmuck. Or possibly only a Jerk. He's been knocking stuff off the shelves in the Tech Room -- notably, bottles of liquid toner, which apparently make a lovely thud-SMACK sound when they land (honestly, it's a very distinctive sound; I can recognize a toner bottle hitting the floor from two rooms away). I expect he doesn't really know that I can't easily pick the damn' things up right now, but -- aargh. Get a cat, they said, they'll be fun. Get a Maine Coon Cat, they said. They're very interested in their people and like to engage.

In other news, despite having felt somewhat better last night, I'm back to Square One (minus the THC) this morning. It occurs to me that I better line up a ride to my appointment at Thayer tomorrow afternoon, which -- aargh x 2. I hate bothering people to do stoopid stuff for me.

I've written to my PCP regarding pain management -- the idea being that, going in the front door with back pain (yes, I'm doing my PT homework) needs to be supported by another approach, because even my therapist said that this will keep happening, only as my core gets stronger, an episode will last ... less long. What I want, of course, is The Grail: something that will kill the pain, or get it down to manageable levels, and neither make me sick or fuzz me out, so I can write. And so I'm not a danger to myself or to the cats. That's important, too. As is eating. It's ridiculously hard to eat when you're in pain.

The cats are taking good care of me -- well. Firefly and Tali are checking in regularly to administer lap-sits and purr therapy.

Rookie's knocking shit off the shelves in the Tech Room.

In addition to pain management brainstorm, I arrived at the opinion that I should also figure out ways to work even when I'm feeling this bad. So! I have moved Writing Operations to the comfy chair in my office (which has been Back Pain Central), rigged up the laptop with my favorite keyboard, and brought the WIP, and the portable hard drive here, too. So, hopefully, I'll be able to continue with fixing stuff that's already been written, and that this episode of painful nonsense will vacate before I realio, trulio need to start producing New! Copy!

So, that's the somewhat muddled news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How's everyone doing?
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So, that was no fun at all.

I don't want to get ahead of myself but I may have gotten around the Horn. Of course, I'm shaky because I haven't eaten anything for 3 days except peanut butter crackers (Note to self: Buy peanut butter crackers; the damn things are lifesavers.) to buffer the meds.

I do have a ride lined up for my appointment this afternoon, so that's good, and my intention is to actually have breakfast and then come back to the comfy chair, do some work on the WIP, and not push things. And eat snacks. What a time to be out of hummus. Bad planning, past me.

Firefly is on my lap and purring.

I'm almost done my Russian Caravan tea Christmas present (Note to self: buy more Russian Caravan tea).

And that's that's the fascinating Thursday report from the cat farm and confusion factory.

Dictated to my phone.
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Did some work on the WIP, actually ate food. Steve Symonds gave me a ride to and from the hospital for my test, so that's taken care of. Managed to get the cat fountains changed out, which has been really bothering me. I'm such a bad cat mom. Talked to the accountant, and -- ouch. Not unexpected, but still. Ouch. I'll pick up the papers on Monday, when -- fingers crossed -- I hope to be Fully Operational.

In the meantime *whispers* my back is not hurting, which places as a Minor Miracle, and what I really want to do is go curl up (figuratively) and read Local Custom.

May I just say what a great job we did with Local Custom? The gradual unfurling of the leaves of character, the! worldbuilding!, the things that are said so very plainly and yet don't mean the same thing to the person you're talking with and -- I swoon. No, really.

Damn, I wish I could write like that.

Also? There's a description -- a Very Detailed Description -- of a counterchance board. I. Had. No. Idea.

So, anyway, I see the tax stuff, and that I have to Move Monies in order to satisfy the IRS and the State of Maine, but yanno what?

Imma go read.

Everybody have a good evening. I'll see you tomorrow.

No...really. I will.

Tali collecting overdue ear scrubbles:

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I gotta get another hat. . .

Fri, 06 Feb 2026 22:19:23 GMT

What went before Thursday: So, I bought a stability ball today -- also known as a Giant Yoga Ball -- on suggestion of PT, and by doing so I learned several things.

Thing One. I had to go to Wal*Mart to obtain this item. Now, I haven't been in a Wal*Mart for at least 8 years, and at that time, I was in the Augusta Marketplace store and it was filthy and ill-kept, misfiled, and nerve-wracking to be in -- you know, like all the stores are now. The Waterville store, today, was -- spacious and well-lit, the shelves were stocked appropriately, signage (with a notable exception, which I will share) plentiful and easy to see. The gentleman in the red vest and ID tags who I stopped to ask where I should look for a Giant Yoga Ball told me that I would be going to the back of the store, to the Sports section, and then he used his phone to tell me that Giant Yoga Balls could be found in Aisle I-15.

Thing Two. Being as I had to walk to the furthest corner of the store to find Sports, I did have plentiful opportunity to look about me, and discover those things reported in Thing One. When I got to Sports, however, I found I-14 and I-17, but not Aisle I-15, which would be my luck. I asked a young lady who was stocking shelves, and whose face immediately said she didn't want to have anything to do with me why there was no Aisle I-15, and the young man who was her partner said, "Oh, no, I'll show you," which he did (I-15 is, in the Waterville Wal*Mart, where they file the bicycles), and when I said, "There are no Giant Yoga Balls here," led me to the exact shelf, which is where I learned Thing Three, which is!

You have to inflate the Giant Yoga Ball when you get it home. It comes with a cheap, plastic, manual air squeeze, and it will, conservatively, take me three days to inflate this thing. However! I have the ball in house, and have started on the inflation project, and I'm calling that progress.

I am now needing to get to my backlogged email.

Tomorrow Sarah comes in the morning to do the cleaning, and I believe I will be blocking out the rest of the day, which will give me 4.5 days to concentrate on reading/writing until I'm next needed elsewhere. I may, in fact, make a weekend of it, and order in, so I can keep focused on the WIP, with short breaks to blow up the stability ball.

So! I have what passes for A Plan. I note that this Plan may mean that I will be not much around the Internets. It's OK; I'll be working.
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Friday. Cold and intermittently sunny. Sarah changed her hours to Saturday.

Woke up at 5:30, got up at 6, sat with the Happy Lite, ate breakfast and was reading the WIP before 8. Read 200 pages, did a couple loads of laundry, broke for lunch -- chicken Alfredo from ... I have no idea, actually. Pasta Americana? It was good and I have leftovers, which is also good.

The story is not nearly as terrible as I had feared. In fact, it's pretty good. So that's a relief. I have 68 days until I have to hand it in, and even though I have to Really End It, excise those 9,000 words, and probably write ... two? more fill-out scenes, I should be able to make that deadline.

Beta Readers! If you are still reading, do not despair! My Method is to do my read, then read your comments, once I have the story in my head in its present shape. You are, in a word, Still Relevant -- very much so! -- and I look forward to your notes with anticipation.

The stability ball has been inflated, and the cats are of the opinion that nobody needs a ball that big.

Dead River, after assuring me yesterday that my delivery was scheduled for today -- has not yet delivered. I'm in no danger, but I would very much like to know why it's suddenly become difficult to deliver oil to this address.

I still need to finish my Remarks and choose something(s) to read for my Event on the 21st.

The missing 1099-MISC arrived today, which would be my luck, because I wrote to the issuing party regarding its whereabouts yesterday. I now have to block out the better part of a day to enter everything into the accountant's portal, because the thing is purposefully designed to force you to fill it in All At Once. In former years, when I was working from paper, I would have been filling the forms in as columns were added, and paperwork arrived, and the manifesting of the last 1099 would mean that I filled in one final line, reviewed, and took the whole packet down to Oakland on Monday morning.

Stoopid portal.

What else? The now-called Business Office, formerly Sharon's Office, looks like a bomb hit it again. I used to write and do business in here, and . . . I can't figure out how I did -- oh, no, I do know. By this time in the Proceedings, the manuscript would have taken over the living room, and Steve would be reading it while I did the taxes, and I would have been able to keep up better with the day-to-day paperwork because Steve would have picked up the laundry and the cooking and the dishwashing, because he would rather do those things than the taxes.

deep breath

Nope. Still Not Preferring this timeline.

Last night, I collapsed into bed earlyish and asked the Boox to read Cuckoo's Egg to me. Now, I have read Cuckoo's Egg manyManyMANY times. It is, in fact, one of my favorite books. I know this story. But listening to it is a Whole Nother Experience. I have not had this particular sensation of . . . newness . . . with the other books -- all old favorites, because I'm still learning -- I've listened to, so that's interesting.

And that I think catches us up. I'm going to take some time to excavate my desk.

Ah. Today's blog post title brought to you by Rocky and Bullwinkle.

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Late Saturday check-in

Sun, 01 Feb 2026 00:26:46 GMT

Well, then. That was Saturday.

I drafted my Remarks for my library event. I think they may be the wrong Remarks, but you can't revise what you don't write down. Still need to figure out how I'm going to handle the reading/what I'm going to read. I'm torn between several small scenes or one big one. May have to resort to flipping a cantra piece.

Spent part of the day loading the apps I usually use on my phone to my Samsung tablet, where they will be larger, which -- in theory -- will help with this current bout of eyestrain.

I also made a couple more adjustments to the new toy. It did a very credible job of reading several chapters of Getting Rid of Bradley to me last night while I just laid in the dark with ninetyleben pounds of coon cat on me, eyes closed and listening. Rookie, predictably perhaps, has really bonded with Zach.

What else? Oh, Had an email from the owner of Oliver and Company who will be handling the sales table during my event, and it seems we Have A Plan. Always good to have a Plan.

Happy Hour was a touch early tonight, and now the cats have scattered. In solidarity, I have a glass of wine with me here at the computer, and my stomach is informing me that I need to rustle something up for dinner RSN.

Tomorrow starts a Warming Trend, with temps soaring into the mid-twenties and thence into the! thirties! By ghod, it's practically summer!

Speaking of tomorrow, next week is going to be busy. Yes . . . busy.

Tomorrow, now that my knees and hips don't hurt enough for me to notice, I'll change out the cat boxes, only a couple days late.

Monday, first thing, I have a PT appointment. Tuesday morning, I have a haircut scheduled, and needlework in the evening; Wednesday, I need to visit the vampyres, which may be an excuse to have breakfast out; Thursday, I have a podiatry appointment, and I should probably go to the grocery somewhere in all of that. Friday morning Sarah comes by to clean, and in the afternoon, I want to go to the tea at the library. I have a pretty flowered skirt and a top hat, so clearly the sartorial part of the venture is well under control.

Tomorrow, I will also be starting my read of the WIP, so that'll be fun.

And that? Is the state of affairs at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

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Twistin' the night away

Sat, 13 Dec 2025 23:16:54 GMT

Saturday. Cloudy, not as cold, but it ain't summer.

Breakfast was hummus, naan, and grapes. Yes, I'm eating a lot of hummus, but it's So. Good.

Lunch will be fish on an onion roll with cheese.

Wrote a little this morning, did my duty the cats, PT homework Session I, took a walk. After lunch? More writing!

Oh, you know the thing, that gay people were invented by the libs sometime during the past 20 years, and the other one, that songs and stories never had a "liberal agenda" until, I dunno, last Wednesday?

Well. Here I was, minding my own business, listening to 60s Gold, and on comes that fun-time dance song, "Twistin' the Night Away," by Sam Cooke, in which we celebrate the peaceful coming together of All Peoples at the Sugar Shack before the B52s got their residency -- in order to do the twist, and I'm singing along, as one does, and grinning at the man in the evening clothes, and how he got here, I don't know, and then I hear this come out of my mouth:

Here's a fella in blue jeans
Dancin' with an older queen

1962. Here's a link

#
About 1800 words written today, bringing the WIP to +/-102,700. Tomorrow, I write again.

So, on the idea of The Author Reads Her Own Works in 2026 -- a Question for the Group Mind: How many of you would like to do a Read Along? I can dust off Splinter Universe and we can carry on as a group over there if there's enough interest.

Please let me know in comments if this is something you'd like to be part of.

Deets: I'm planning to start in January, and I'm planning to read the novels only, and in Publication Order*. I have my reasons for doing it this way, and if you don't agree, that's fine; don't take part.

All that said, everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I'll look in tomorrow.

___________
*Publication Order = Agent of Change, Conflict of Honors, Carpe Diem, Plan B, Local Custom, Scout’s Progress, I Dare, Balance of Trade, Crystal Soldier, Crystal Dragon, Fledgling, Saltation, Mouse and Dragon, Ghost Ship, Dragon Ship, Necessity’s Child, Trade Secret, Dragon in Exile, Alliance of Equals, The Gathering Edge, Neogenesis, Accepting the Lance, Trader’s Leap, Fair Trade, Salvage Right, Ribbon Dance, Diviner’s Bow

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THe Cold Errands

Tue, 09 Dec 2025 14:29:09 GMT

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. Trash and recycling at the curb. Breakfast was cottage cheese with canned peaches and toast. Reward for getting the trash and recycling to the curb in 2F/-16F, cookie with second cup of tea.

Lunch will likely be the last yam in the larder, which ought to be a song. Looks like I will be hitting the grocery this morning, too. How the errands do pile up.

Eye doctor appointment in an hour. Need to write a couple checks so I can throw them at the post office along with my holiday cards while I'm out in the world.

Finished Tie Me Knot, which brings me to 60 books read this year. In 2024, I read 61 books (including Diviner's Bow TWICE), so I'll probably match last year.

I do believe I will be scheduling a read of the Liaden Universe novels, in publication order, for 2026. I have never read the series straight through, though I've obviously read older books as they came up for reprint, so this will be ... an experience.

How's everybody doing this morning?

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White bird dreams of the aspen trees

Tue, 25 Nov 2025 13:48:44 GMT

Tuesday. Chilly and dim. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Breakfast was cold pizza. A milestone. I had what I believe to be my first pizza since Steve died on Sunday night, post-interview. It would have been something we might have done. This being so, I had cold pizza for breakfast, also for the first time in more than a year. ... It was good. Pairs well with Scottish Morn tea.

Woke up this morning with a short story in my head, so I need to map that out before I hit the WIP.

I have finished writing the Holiday Letter; it is now cooling before I reread and (probably) revise. Firefly helped me find the cards, and then we all had to sit around and explain to Rook about cards, and let him sniff them. He got green glitter on his nose.

Still reading The Thursday Murder Club (yes, yes: slow reader). One of the things I'm especially enjoying is the acknowledgement that all of the club members had Done Stuff -- even a lot of stuff. They did not just manifest one day as Old People, their pasts either irrelevant or a blank.

And of course, it's wonderful to see them manipulate the "clueless and helpless old people" perception.

I'm a little scared of Elizabeth, though.

So! This evening is needlework. This morning is writing.

I'm gonna need more tea.

What's on your schedule today?

Today's blog post brought to you by David and Linda LaFlamme, "White Bird"

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There are stars in the southern sky...

Mon, 24 Nov 2025 22:57:01 GMT

Monday. Bright and cold.

Breakfast was two eggs scrambled with leftover cauliflower and broccoli, with sausage, and a piece of whole wheat toast. A Big breakfast, but it's a biggish morning.

Trash and recycling are in the garage, preparing themselves for tomorrow's journey to the curb. Dishwasher is doing its thing. Cats suspect that Something Is Up.

I'll be getting on the road to the cancer center and my chat with the Survivalist as soon as I finish my second mug of tea. I'll be early, but I don't have Steve's genius for split-second timing, so better early than late.

I'm having a lot of fun with the Thursday Murder Club, and having never seen the show, only read complaints about how it "did not live up" to the books, despite the excellent cast -- I have Some Thoughts About that.

The voice of the book -- aka "the narrator" -- is hysterical and unless the show (again, never seen it) has a voice over telling you what, oh, Ian's thinking, and how he's thinking it, viewers are missing an important facet of the story, and expecting the actors to carry the whole weight themselves isn't really fair.

. . . and that's my second mug empty, so I'm off.

I hope everyone's having a good morning. I'll see you on the flip side.

Back, having gone the long way home -- through Bar Harbor. I had somehow expected the town to be open. I mean, people live on the island. To be fair, some things were open, for instance the Village Green Cafe, where I got my lunch (grilled ham and cheddar on multigrain with blueberry ice tea), but I hadn't expected the relative emptiness.

Also, I had not come dressed for ocean-side chill, so my window shopping was limited. However, I'm glad I did not just go Straight Home like a Good Do-Bee. And, besides, I need to keep in practice with driving longish distances (that was, eh, 220 miles on the day). She said virtuously.

The Survivalist is a dream. We have a yearly check-in plan in place, as well as an agreement that I may call upon her for various things, and reassurance that I had NOT screwed up by wearing my compression gloves when my hands hurt. And I got points for asking a good question.

I believe I have all my Stuff for Thursday in-house (well, except flowers. I forgot flowers. Oh, well.), so that's good. I haven't gotten a wreath, either, because I just can't make myself buy a wreath before Thanksgiving. It's just ... wrong.

The cats inform me that I missed three -- or possibly four -- check-ins today and that they are not disposed to be lenient. I was immediately tasked with rubbing Tali's ears, and scrubbling Rook's belly, and picking up Firefly for an All-Grown-Up Hug. I draw the line, however, at moving Happy Hour up by an hour and a half.

What did y'all do today?

Today's blog post title comes from The Eagles, "Seven Bridges Road," which I can never resist singing along with the acapella parts, though I really ought to always resist singing.

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See me ride outta that sunset. . .

Tue, 18 Nov 2025 14:43:54 GMT

. . . on your color TV . . . Am I the only one who ever wants to filk things like TNT for, oh, accountants? or retail workers? or well. Sorry AC/DC

Onward.

Um. Tuesday. Jeez, yesterday was a long day.

Tuesday. Sunny and cool. Trash and recycling languish yet in the garage, but I've got time to get it out to the curb.

Today's to-do includes filling out a form for adult ed, scheduling an interview for ... Sunday afternoon, is what I'm thinking ... changing out the cat fountains, and getting my needles ready for this evening's meeting of the embroidery club. Might be time for a little entering of corrections. That would be nice.

But first! Breakfast! I'm going with hummus and naan and grapes again. I must have been in hummus deprivation.

What's for breakfast at your house?
#
And apparently I'm on short-thought today. I just last night finished reading The Bookshop of Dust and Dreams, by Mindy Thompson, which was a fine time-travel tale riffing off of the Change-one-Thing theory, and never in your face. Very well done. It is, for those who object to such things, YA, and the narrator is a young girl.

Link to today's cat census and state of an art

Today's blog post title brought to you by AC/DC, "TNT"

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Communique to the Internets

Sat, 25 Oct 2025 16:22:55 GMT

Saturday. Cool and cloudy.

Before we get to the recap, someone -- Alma? -- had asked how you remove the stabilizer without damaging the embroidery. I had previously used stabilizer, which was impossible to wash out, but! Improvements have been made. The instructions for the stablizier on which the pattern for my embroidered shirt were printed said, "Rinse under a stream of warm water." So, I took it into the bathroom, turned on the shower and stuck the shirt under the warm water. Somewhat to my surprise, because, I, too had expected A Fight, the stuff just melted away. It took -- what? A minute. Then I hung the shirt up and let it drip.

Mind you, it was stupidly difficult to embroider through the stabilizer, which is too bad because apparently the kit-making people have latched onto this as The Answer, and are now sending a bit of linen, a pattern printed on stabilizer, thread, etc. So, the two kits that remain on-hand (both black-cat-themed, what was I thinking?) are both "affix the pattern to the cloth."

# # #

Feel free to skip from here to the next # # # if you'd rather not hear an elderly lady complain about her old war wounds.

You have been warned.

Yesterday was No Fun At All. I owe Patty Briggs for the timely arrival on my tablet of the chronicle of Asil's yuletide adventures, which made the day somewhat less bad, but even a beautiful, doomed, ironic man can only do So Much. One does wonder what looms -- well, but that would be a spoiler, and we already know what looms.

My back hurt sufficiently that I took the drugs, even though I knew that was probably a Bad Idea, as indeed it was. The drugs make me sick. I know this, but they do also, sometimes, work against the pain. Sadly, yesterday was not one of those days. Tali gave it her All, but even so . . .

At 9:30, I just fell into bed, exhausted, and slept for three solid hours, then off and on in hour-sized chunks. Firefly was on night-watch, and she, too did her All, including smacking Rook off the bed, when he decided that I would feel better if I played. (She did allow him to remain later, when he snuck up and curled against my knee.)

I finally got up sometime after 10:30, took a shower, made myself a mug of peppermint tea and sat down at my desk to write this communique to the internets.

Since the drugs were such a disappointment, I have decided to quit the course. Yes, my back still hurts. A lot. But if this is going to be my life, I guess I'm going to have to learn how to ignore the pain and do what needs to be done though it. You wouldn't think this would be hard, since I'm pretty good at ignoring various other sorts of pain, but the back pain is my nemesis. So! a project.

Just what I needed.

# # #

My Plan for the day is to find something non-threatening to eat after I've finished my nice mug o'peppermint, then go back to Steve's office and get some writing done.

I have in my in-box two letters from the law firm representing writers in the Antropic settlement, replying to mine of several weeks ago. It looks like I'll need to get Madame the Agent involved on account of Steve being dead like he is. I'll look at those again when I'm feeling a little more the Thing.

So, that's caught us all up. The cats, I believe, are in Steve's office, and I -- am going to make another cup of peppermint tea and a piece of toast, and go join them.

And how're y'all doing today?

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Sunny Friday with embroidery and glasswork

Fri, 24 Oct 2025 16:20:33 GMT

What went before: Finished embroidering my shirt:

Friday. Sunny and coolish.

Slept late because went to bed ditto. Woke up with a backache, because of course I did.

So my glassworking teacher came out and said last night that I had chosen a very difficult design, but that was good, because I could be an Example for the rest of the class. Which I guess is a thing you never outgrow.

Those who have been following along will perhaps recall that I broke the starfish twice while I was cutting it, the second time much less catastrophically than the first. I took what remained of that sheet of glass to class to see if I could be taught better.

The teacher took the glass and the pattern and broke the starfish three times during scoring, all worse than my second attempt, so! keeping my second attempt in the design.

I also learned last night that something that I had subconsciously been depending on -- that any errors in scoring could be adjusted in the grinding stage -- was ... optimism. Apparently, grinding is only for roughing up the edges so the foil will stick, and not a fix for shoddy cutting.

Homework is attaching the foil to all the pieces, which I've already forgotten how that's supposed to go, but that is, after all, why Google gave us Youtube.

I finished reading The Women last night, and am cleansing my palate with Blind Date with a Werewolf before going on to Remarkably Bright Creatures.

I have taken naproxen and baclofen, which is somewhat nerve-wracking, since the last time I had back pain severe enough to hit the drugs I wound up in the ER (because the drugs didn't work on the pain though they made me plenty sick, and the shot of steroids administered by the clinic kicked my blood pressure into the stratosphere, so not doing that again). So far, neither drugs, nor ice, nor heat seem to be helping, so my next act will be to clean the cat boxes while I can still bend over, and then try to figure out what I can do to keep the pain in the region of "uncomfortable," the goal being to not wind up, weeping, in the Command Chair.

Standing up and sorta leaning into my desk isn't actually uncomfortable, so I may work on the Sekrit Project, if I can't think of anything to do that will actually mitigate the pain. Clearly, wrapping a zillion small pieces of glass in foil is not an option.

Tali has been sitting on me when I sit or lie down, and purring, while Rook takes up a station in the same room. Firefly is off-duty and sleeping in the sunshine in my office.

So! How's Friday treating you?

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Monday Evening Update

Mon, 20 Oct 2025 23:23:40 GMT

Did some work on the Sekrit Project, checked the post office box, put gas in the car, went to the book club, hit the grocery store, came home and strung lights. Checked the route to the hospital in Rockport, bought next month's book club book -- Remarkably Bright Creatures -- my choice, because -- octopus.

Tomorrow I drive to the hospital in Rockport (ref "gas/car") for a nerve conduction test. I don't think a visit to the hospital to have electricity run through my body counts as a Writer's Day Off, even if I do get to drive to the coast. I also want to try to get to needlework tomorrow evening, so -- I may be scarce, but fear not! This is The Plan.

Wednesday looks like a free day, as does Friday, Thursday is mostly free, except for glass class, which I will try to go early so I can talk to my teacher about various fixups that probably need to be done.

So! How was your day?

Let there be light. Left to right -- Steve's Office, Sharon's Office, Living room

Eek.

These just in...

And gosh it was nice of the UPS guy to throw both boxes into a puddle AND block the front door, AND fail to put said boxes in plastic, even though it's raining.

And we end the day on a complete mystery.

I went back to Steve's office to put the new edition of I Dare on his shelf and in doing so, bumped the cloisonne cardinal he had sitting on the shelf, which fell to the floor OR SO I THOUGHT. I cannot find it, ANYwhere. Hands and knees, flashlights, vacuum cleaner -- I have no idea where that bird went. My only hope now is the cats, and the hope there is that they won't destroy it if they do find it.

Sheesh.

Wine o'clock.

Everybody have a good evening.

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Gothic Monday

Mon, 20 Oct 2025 13:09:44 GMT

What went before ONE: So that's +/-1,320 words on the morning. I'm not reporting the impact of these words on the WIP total because I don't know exactly where they go.

The cats were all waiting for me when I got to Steve's Office, and they stuck with me until I said, "That's a wrap," whereupon Rook and Tali got up, stretched, and followed me to the front of the house.

It's now time to have lunch, then go downstairs to perform one's duty to the cats, and monkey around with my glass for a bit.

The cloudy morning has become a sunny afternoon, though still cool.

And so it goes.
#
What went before TWO: Aaaand that's enough fun for one day! I have finished cutting what glass I can. As Was Predicted, I did break the starfish -- twice, but the second time much better than the first (Do not laugh. The bar we're using here, as Miri Robertson once famously said, is the one that's buried in that snowpile over there). So, rather than run out of glass, I shall take what I have with me to class, prepared to Learn Better.

There's a horrifying amount of glass pieces in my scrap box. Honestly, I should go into the kaleidoscope business.

Also, the project got its tithe of blood today, so I was glad I had wimped in and taken my silly little first aid kit down to The Studio.

But! All that said -- I'm for a cup of tea and a bun, and then I do believe I'll read.

Everybody have a good evening. I'll check in tomorrow.
#
What went before THREE: New entry in Steve and Sharon's Excellent Adventure, for those who are reading along: Eager Street
#
Um. Monday? Cool and damp; rain in the forecast.

Updated my books read list -- I have read my 50th book, which is something of a relief; I really didn't think I was going to see that many.

Read the first eight chapters of the book club book last night. I really can't tell if the ... predictability is a feature or a bug. As in, yes, this; yes, this, too; no that's pretty flimsy, but it gets us where we're going; ok, yeah, they lied, what a surprise -- is just the entrance ramp into the Real Story* (feature) or if, having begun, this is how we mean to go on. Well. I'll find out.

In other news, I was inclined to feel Poorly Used when I got the news that my health insurance will be going up $30 a month in 2026, but that was before I read the newspaper and found out that this same insurance provider is dropping membership for half the state. Yes, the half that needs it the most, why do you ask?

Sigh. It's possible that Mondays aren't good for me.

P'rhaps I'll go find a cup of tea and something for breakfast.

How's everybody doing this morning?
________
*I almost had a fistfight on a panel regarding the beginning of The Goblin Emperor, in which,** and my fellow panelist was insisting that it was Bad Storytelling because Basic Security mandates that you Don't Do That, and my equally empassioned argument that this was just to "explain" how we got to the Unlikely Situation which was the Actual Story the writer wanted to tell. Wow, that was an exhausting panel.
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
SPOILER
_________
**The Emperor and all of his sons are on the same airship when it blows up.

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Sinking in

Thu, 28 Aug 2025 12:25:52 GMT

What went before: Slow getting started, but once I got going, I managed to pull a couple words out of the keyboard.

+/-1050 new words, bringing the WIP to +/-65,200.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Thursday. Sunny and cool. Weatherbeans calling for the higher 70s-in-F this afternoon. At the moment, it's too cool to open the windows.

This morning, I need to go out to collect an extension of the new prescription, which needs to be Tapered Off, who knew? And also to Agway for a couple of things, including fishing line.

I see, otherwheres, that KJ Charles is being victimized by someone who can't read reporting to Amazon numerous "errors" in Copper Script (which is good -- read it). These are, as it turns out British spelling, British sentence structure, British slang, and in a couple of cases Actual Words that said Arbiter of Error didn't recognized and couldn't be arsed to look up.

I grew up reading British novels in their native Britishness, back before US Publishing decreed that Americans were too stupid to accommodate a few extra "u"s and whatnot. Welp, US Publishing has got what it wanted, with a helping of "If I don't recognize a word, it must be a typo, because I know All The Words."

My reading of British literature reflects in my own writing, and I have once or twice had to gently inform people that, no, that is an ACTUAL WORD, GET A DAMNED DICTIONARY, WHY NOT? Ahem. And I really despair of us as a people. OTOH, ignorant people are easier to control, and we're into control, this episode, so there's a win for the bullies and the cheats.

deep breath

I said upstream that you ought to read Copper Script -- that is, of course, if Amazon hasn't pulled it for having too many errors, because Amazon has been known to do this. And, yanno, Ms Charles doesn't have anything better to do except go through an already-published book, fixing errors that aren't wrong, so it can go back into the catalog and start earning again.

I know some folks think they're dong Good Things by "reporting" errors and typos to Amazon. Trust me -- they're not. As I mentioned, oh, maybe this time last week? There are no perfect books. There are errors and typos in all books. Mostly, they don't hurt anybody (I'm not talking errors like "half my book is a scifi adventure and the other half is a cookbook" or "my book is 400 blank pages" or things of that nature). Certainly, they're not worth pulling the creator away from her new project, and pissing her off, too.

I want more books from KJ Charles, and? Abusing authors isn't the way to get more books.

Really, I ought to start a list.

Anyhow! Having ranted and perhaps educated -- Good morning! How's your day shaping up?

Here, have a picture of Rook inna sink:

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Let's take a knife and cut the world in two

Thu, 14 Aug 2025 13:53:55 GMT

What went before ONE: Man, TJMaxx was like Wonderland this morning! Looking better than it has in a LONG time. I scored a bamboo three-shelf unit to got into the bottom of the closet to hold shoes and the like. This should also make it more obvious when Rookie had invaded the closet, though I'm sure he'll work out a Stealth Procedure pretty quick.

Also bought a syrup dispenser, which answers my honey dispensing problems -- and spare shower curtains, and coasters, and a pair of kitchen shears to replace the pair that rusted.

Honestly, the trip was notable by what I didn't buy.

Halloween was everywhere, naturally. Insofar as these things may be, classy Halloween. I had gone into the store feeling v. sad because the former JoAnn's next door to TJMaxx is going to be one of those ghastly (and not in a good way) Spirit of Halloween stores, but I left TJMaxx feeling -- energized.

Retail Therapy for the win.

One of the things I didn't buy was a sit-up-in-bed and read pillow --- you know the ones? They have a chair back and little soft arms, and the whole thing is a pillow? The ones on offer today were covered in fleece, which I suspect may be too much of a good thing. But that got me thinking -- who uses one of these to read in bed and how does that work out for you?

Trooper has had the rest of the can of gooshy food I opened for him this morning, and it's time for me to get my snack and to pack a sandwich to take with me, so I can take my meds on time.

No, the excitement never DOES end.

What went before TWO: Mission(s) accomplished with only one, and very slight, necessity to refrib the chanimeester, so that's nice. If anyone local-ish wants a signed copy of Diviner's Bow, there's one at the Augusta BN.

Trooper demanded that I feed him immediately I returned home, so he's in the bathroom, chowing down. After he's finished, I'll do the clean-the-bathroom thing, and look to start writing after I get home from having my hair cut tomorrow morning.

I note that the outdoor computer-driven machines are faltering under the heat. Took three tries at two different pumps before I could refill the car, and then I couldn't get a receipt. Nor could I wash the windows, because someone had taken in all the squeegees and all the fluid wells were dry. I grant that this last is not a machine failure, but -- grrr.

What went before THREE: I begin to see an error in my Life Plan. No kids = no grandkids. No grandkids = no help with the housework and the weeding.

Of course, people may not put their grandkids to work anymore. I cleaned my grandmother's house and weeded the garden.

Yeah, I'm gonna have to find somebody to help me out around here, though I am kinda getting frustrated with the whole business of hiring somebody, settling down with them, and they need to move on.

And, no, not an option to move to a smaller place. I hear that some people, when they lose a partner, are driven to get rid of the house, because the memories that have soaked into the walls are just too painful.

I've tried on the idea a couple of times, but honestly, I don't want to move out of this house. It's a comfort to me, in that it does remind me of who and what we were, and what we'd accomplished, together.

And with that said -- I'll go put the bathroom back together.

. . . the cats, by the way, are of the opinion that I've lost my mind. "What's she doing?" "Why isn't she sitting down and rattling papers?" No comment on Charmer the robot vac, who has never gotten the respect he probably deserves from the cats.

And I hear Trooper announcing that he has eaten what he pleaseth and must be liberated from the bathroom neeOW!

What went before FOUR: And in other news, I found the earring back I lost a month ago.

What went before FIVE: So, that's enough fun for one day. The cats get an early Happy Hour, I get an early dinner and a couple hours on the couch to read.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

What went before SIX: So, here's a story. A Maine Republican, off his own bat, writes to the provinces of Canada fartherest removed from Maine, to . . . tempt them to join the US. In doing so, he attacks the Canadian form of government while promising freedom and respect.

British Columbia is Not Amused, responding in part that the lawmaker's undated memo "lands more as a manifesto of arrogance."

My source is the Bangor Daily News, linked, but might be paywalled. Link

This reminds me of All The Lonely Guy-Children who write that they deserve a woman, and then go on to demonstrate such contempt for women that you've gotta wonder why they even want one.

Thursday. Cloudy but still warmer than I like.

Trooper has had his meds-in-gravy, and a few mouthfuls of gooshy food.

Had another good night's sleep, making four in a row. The tired feeling ought to be going away pretty soon now, right? RIGHT?

Breakfast was leftover ginger chicken. Lunch will be salad and something. Fish, I guess.

Haircut coming up in an hour and also I need to remember to stop at CVS for -- checks notes -- lidocaine patches. Hmm.

Upon my return, I will perform my duty to the cats, and do the banking. After lunch, I will reunite with the WIP.

I'm doing a cost-benefit on a glassworking course that's being offered through adult ed in the fall. It's stained glass, which I've never done, and God She knows, I need another suncatcher in this room, but, fee and materials, the cost for the class is hitting right at $200.

Still reading Stone and Sky and having a good time. Haven't heard back from the Corning Museum, but then? I didn't expect to hear back from the Corning Museum.

What've you got on the schedule today?

Today's blog post title brought to you by Mr. Langston Hughes, "Tired." You often see the first four lines quoted, but very rarely the last four.

“I am so tired of waiting.
Aren’t you,
for the world to become good
and beautiful and kind?
Let us take a knife
and cut the world in two—
and see what worms are eating
at the rind.”

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Gone Shoppin'

Tue, 29 Jul 2025 13:28:38 GMT

What went before: Read 60 pages of I Dare, which got me to an end of a section. Wrote +/-540 new words in the WIP, which brings it to +/-65,080.

On the proofing front, I am definitely missing some of the places where there ought to be scene breaks marked, and I'm trying to figure out if I have anything around here that will serve as a guide. I'll look at the Meisha Merlin edition, but that one had, um, many errors. I'm just not sure if spacing was one of them.

Onward.

Rook collaborated with me in an after-lunch nap; he could have gone longer, but I felt the call of duty, and went back to Steve's office to work. Surprisingly, he fetched Tali and the two of them did the afternoon shift with me.

Trooper ate an envelope of bisque with his meds stirred in; a smol can of gooshy food, in two sessions, a couple of crunchies to keep his grandkid, Tali, company at the food bowl, and for Happy Hour, an envelope of stew and his usual serving of gooshy food.

He seems to be somewhat more alert today, OTOH, I spent most of the day in Steve's office, and he spent most of the day asleep in my office, so we didn't see much of each other.

Tomorrow, I believe I'll take a couple hours off and go to Augusta. Get out of the house for a bit, see people who aren't cats. There's a plan.

In the meantime -- everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Sunny and cool, but heading for hot.

Woken by Trooper standing on my chest at 6:00. There were three other cats in the bed, all asleep, so I turned on my side, and snuggled Trooper under me, and we all got another half-hour.

Trooper has had (most of) his morning bisque-with-meds.

I have no idea what my breakfast will be, but I have a cup of tea with me here at the desk, so there's a start.

I will be going out to Augusta today, specifically to Michael's, Target, and -- Lowe's? There was something I wanted at Lowe's . . . sigh. It'll come to me.

I got a little crazy last night just paged through the Meisha Merlin edition of I Dare and found all the scene breaks, some of which are in the page proofs, but not all. Those are now all notated and marked, so I can concentrate on the text.

Speaking of I Dare, the new Baen edition will be a trade paperback and it will drop in December.

What else? Ah. I had asked someone on Etsy to make me a thing, and she said she'd be delighted, so I wrote back and asked how we were going to handle the details, and have heard nothing else. It's been a couple weeks, so I guess I'd better drop a note.

I'd been having an increasingly harder time listening to Devil's Cub, which I was attributing to the narrator, so I opened the book to refresh myself, and -- no, it's not the narrator; it's Vidal, or, rather, the whole cast.

It is permitted to be at the feet of the Divine Georgette and still prefer some of her works over others, and in fact, while I admire These Old Shades as a melant'i play, I believe I read Devil's Cub once, exactly, and did not care for it.

(These things are matters of taste. For instance, Steve doted on The Toolbooth; which I understood as little as his dislike for Bath Tangle, which I adore.)

Anyway, I set myself to analyzing why it is that I so dislike Devil's Cub, and I believe it is this.

In These Old Shades, we are told that Alastair is a Very Bad Man, with a Past. He had served in espionage during the late war, giving his gift for ferreting out secrets free range. We are told that he has a history with Comte St. Vier, that perhaps neither man was in what we will call "the right," and their enmity spans a quarter century.

With the exception of One Thing, we are never shown Alastair doing any of these Very Bad Things, though we are shown that he is very possibly brilliant, and is wearied (as who among us is not) by those who are less brilliant than himself. He is sarcastic and unapproachable, and it would be hard to make a connection with such a man, except we are given, almost immediately, an intermediary between ourselves and this unlikable, perhaps evil, man. Leon, running from abuse, seeking to escape a life that can only end in tragedy, is rescued by the Duke for his own nefarious purposes, and Leon loves the Duke. We, in turn, love Leon, for his wit, his temper, his devotion, and his courage.

The Duke of Avon could ask for no better lens through which to be viewed.

Now, that One Evil Thing -- His Grace of Avon sees fit to drive a man to suicide at a public party, but by the time he does this, we want that man to pay -- for the evil he has visited upon Leon. It's a masterpiece of timing, and These Old Shades is a good book and an excellent melant'i play.

Devil's Cub makes the mistake of showing us Vidal at his worst immediately, and we are given no balancing viewpoint, save his mother's, who may be excused for loving him, and even she knows he is "very bad," but -- he's her son.

I'm also irritated because it's been 24 years since These Old Shades, and Rupert, Alastair's younger brother, who had shown some promise of growing into a Better Man if not a very intelligent one, is stuck in a permanent boyhood -- still running himself off his legs, and needing to apply to Alastair for funds, and much the lesser of Vidal, who does, at least seems to possess a good pair of wits.

Since I'm using the audiobook as a sleep aid, I'll probably continue, and I may finish reading along side of it, to see if I'm being unjust, and Georgette does manage to put everything right. I do recall thinking that Mary Challoner could have done much better.

. . . and my tea's gone.

How's the morning going at your place?

This morning's blog post title is a vary on the classic sign "Gone Fishin'"

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