Eagles Over the Kennebec

What went before:  Hired somebody to maintain korval.com, which is an enormous load off my shoulders.

Waiting in my email this morning was a note from NESFA (New England Science Fiction Association); Tony Lewis has left us.  Tony and Suford let Steve and me park our car at their house for a week and took us to the train station so we could attend our first convention as Guests of Honor, Silicon, in 1998. Chatting with him and Suford was always a high point at Boskone.

Thursday. Frizzling (freezing drizzle, looks like). Once again the Big Storm wore itself out before it got to us.

Breakfast was PB&J on English muffin. Second cup of tea is brewing. Lunch will be -- eh. No, wait. I got spaghetti and meatballs out of the freezer last night. Ta-da! Lunch.

So, I was flattened by the time I'd finished eating the evening meal, so I just took my book and a mug of tea and went to bed, where I was immediately joined by four cats, who immediately went to sleep. I read for a while, then shoved the propping pillow to one side, and joined them. So that was good. Next lesson: I'm going to have to stop thinking that 6:00 is early if I go to sleep at 10.

First up today is sitting by the window, watching the ... frizzle frizz ... and sketching in some scenes (y'all know that when I say things like "doodling" and "sketching" it means making notes and hand-drafting scenes, not actually doing art? Just wanted to clear that up.) This may actually be the only thing, aside one's duty to the cats, and feeding myself lunch, that actually gets accomplished today, and if so, sobeit.

So, that's it for me. Over to you.

Below the requested photos of the classy new cat bowls, provided by a Mystery Friend.

Today's blog post title comes to you from Dire Straits, "The Sultans of Swing."  Historical note:  I was on my way to Steve's house, and this song "previewed" on the radio, so that almost the first thing I said to Steve after he let me in was, "I just heard this incredible song!  Sultans of --"  And Steve turned to his record player, picked up an album cover (Steve having been a music reviewer, he got free albums) and handed it to me.  "I was just listening to it, when you knocked."  I happened to hear it on the radio this morning during breakfast.

Or, to riff off of Oscar Wilde: To lose David Bowie is a tragedy; to lose David Bowie and Alan Rickman inside of one week can only be carelessness.

. . .Well.  And no one ever said that the universe cared. . .

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So, today.

Today was vacuum the house day, and make lentil stew for lunch day.  Since I'm a linear girl, I was going to vacuum first, then make stew.

That plan got kicked out when Dyson (the vacuum cleaner is a Dyson, name changed from The New Vacuum a couple years ago when I realized that we'd purchased it with royalty money from Meisha Merlin, which has been closed for eight years). . .when Dyson screamed a mighty scream, which usually means that a string has gotten 'round the rollerbar, or cat fur. . .

Well, it was cat fur -- about a coon cat's worth of cat fur -- and it looked for a while there that the cats' clever plan to murder the cat-eating machine had borne fruit, because I couldn't even get the face-plate off to begin to deal with the problem.

Steve saved the day, with Trooper and Sprite close at hand, to observe the process.

I fear they may have a upgraded murder plan in the works.

While Steve was working on Dyson, I started the lentil stew, and observed progress on The Leeewit, which I had resurrected in order to try my hand at Linux one! more! time!

. . .this may require some background.

See, like Everyone Else on PC World, I have been being badgered by Microsoft for months and months, to take my "free" upgrade to Windows 10 (I run Windows 7).  In addition to being a Linear Girl, I am a Girl Who Does Not Like to Fix What Ain't Broke, and I have been ignoring these importunate messages.

However, it seems that Microsoft will eventually just be pushing 10 down as an "upgrade," which is horrifying beyond belief.  The desktop is my work machine. And though it is backed up, my life is on this machine.  I cannot risk losing anything.

So, I figured that I would install Windows 10 on Number 10 Ox, the Acer laptop, also running Windows 7 Pro, and Pay Attention.

The installation went smoothly, though it was slow (by today's standards; I'm old enough to remember having to pretty much block out a day to sit in front of the computer and swap out a quarter-zillion disks-then-a slightly lesser number of CDs), but it was after the install that the fun began.

That was when I tried to find and turn off all of the spyware and "helpful" options in the "free" software.  Stuff like -- if a computer on the internet is updating to Windows 10 and your computer happens to be on the internet, too, it may be pressed into server duty, in order to serve software to this other computer.  And -- oooooh, keystroke logger! and we'll helpfully send those keystrokes to Microsoft, so your computing experience can be "fine-tuned".  Dude!  I work on this machine, and the internet is more often on than not.  Are you really going to be pushing ads for the Quality Inn Solcintra to my computer?

Long story short, the experience left me wanting to never do it again.  Apple is too expensive for me, and subject to its own slings, if not outright arrows, so the obvious answer is -- Linux.

Long-time readers of Eagles Over the Kennebec, will recall that I at one point had a Linux box.  There was an uneasy peace between us, and occasional flashes of real affection, but we never loved each other.  And eventually, I went back to Windows, as being easier on my brain.

I am told that nowadays Linux Mint is Doing The Thing Right, so I pulled the Leeewit, the by-today's-standards-ancient Asus eeePC, out of the closet and downloaded the newest Mint (which for some reason is called Cinnamon) to it.  Then, of course I couldn't install it, because even the best software can't wipe the drive it's living on, then install itself.  Duh.

Steve once again came to the rescue, downloading the OS to a stick.  We then had to go 'round the barn three times in order to convince Leeewit to actually boot from the stick, but we got there eventually, and as I type, I have a functioning 32-bit Atom-powered netbook running a full edition of Mint Cinnamon (Rosa) 17.3.  LibreOffice comes with, so I'm ready to rumble, and?

We shall see.

Somewhere around all those adventures, lunch was served and eaten, and vacuuming was done.

I wanted to talk about vacuuming.  Well, actually, I want to talk about Trooper.

Let it be said upfront that Trooper is Not Dyson's Biggest Fan.  When the machine roars to life, he immediately runs to my office (my office being, despite innumerable demonstrations to the contrary) considered by catkind to be Safe.  Sprite makes right for the basement, and Scrabble -- poor Scrabble -- freezes on top of the file cabinet in Steve's office, and (unless I want a drooling, shivering basket case on my hands, which I don't) must be picked up and brought to the basement stairs.  When you put her down, she wails piteously, runs down to the bottom of the steps, and gazes up at you, still wailing, until you close the door and get on with things.

Today, however, when I escorted Scrabble to the stairs, and she descended, crying -- Today, Trooper came out of my office, and went downstairs, pausing a few steps above her, and spoke to her in his mid-range, not-squeaky voice -- and here's the amazing part -- Scrabble not only didn't lay into him with ears back and claws extended, she actually stopped crying, and accepted a head-butt.

I am amazed.

I also learned today that Belle?  Can levitate.

I thought she'd gone downstairs, like the practical mom-cat she is.  I thought wrong.  She had retired into the basement of the Cat Castle; all the way in the back corner of the basement, where she was apparently determined to wait it out.

Then the vacuum entered the living room, approaching the Cat Castle, and -- she lost her nerve.

Remember that I thought she'd gone downstairs, and thus was completely taken by surprise by the Very Large Orange Feline bursting out of the basement and into the air.  I swear she was heading directly for my head, did a mid-flight adjustment, landed on the far side of the Mencken table, and bolted for -- downstairs?

Silly person.

Under the bed.

I collapsed, heart pounding.

And Belle has a new nickname to go along with "Mom."

Flying Lion.

And so that.

Time for me to get to work.

Here, have a picture of Trooper, bird-watching.

. . .but the cats are so delightful.

Here we see Mozart getting into position to meet today's 90F/32C projected temps.  Note the pink toes, spread for maximum cooling surface.

Scrabble remains on-station in Steve's office.  Here also note the deployment of the toes.

On a related subject, today saw the first flowers bloom in the Cat Garden.

Steve is getting the air conditioners into the service, and I plan to spend a good part of the day doing laundry and playing around with the workshop description/class plan.