Eagles Over the Kennebec

What went before: Had a lovely and informative chat with Alex Picard, the narrator for the Ribbon Dance audiobook (coming to you in August!). She was kind enough to suggest the title of a nonfiction book about the deaf communities on Martha's Vineyard, backaways -- Everyone here spoke sign language: Heredity deafness on Martha's Vineyard, by Nora Ellen Groce -- I'm on page 6 and already fascinated.

I also remembered that when we were going on a long road trip, Steve used to take on those tuna lunch packs -- which just about saved our lives on two separate train trips over the years -- when the train was so late, the various on-board provisioners not only ran out of food, they ran out of booze -- so I went out and grabbed some of the tuna things, because Murphy is real, and his Law is the great leveler.

Losing Steve really did tear my brain in half. My memory has never been my most robust mental function, and it's just gone to wood shavings on some stuff. I'm glad I decided to pack slow, because the act of getting things together to go to a convention is kicking Old Habits to the surface. I guess I should also say, if I don't immediately remember you at the con -- it's me, not you, and the Ghods of Conventions in Their infinite wisdom give us name tags for a reason.

Tomorrow, I'm taking a break in the early afternoon to go to the library and listen to Ron Currie read from The Savage Noble Death of Babs Dionne. Before and after, I'll continue to do those chores that will make coming home easier, putter at my packing, study the maps/routes. And not freak out. That's very important. I even wrote it on the to-do list.

Right now, the first 194 pages of the current WIP is printing out, so I'll have that ready to read and get back into the right headspace.

It got Quite Warm today; tomorrow is supposed to be significantly cooler, though still springlike.

The coon cats have had their Happy Hour, and are each sitting in an open window, admiring the evening breeze (not the bathroom window -- they're using the Considerably Safer crank windows, in my office).

And that's the news from the Cat Farm.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

#

Saturday. Damp and dim. Which really ought to be the name of my next band. Or -- I dunno. Maybe Damp and Dim reported on those Sites that Wu and Fabricant deemed not worth their time? Though if Wu and Fabricant wrote an entry on Star Well...

... and now you know why writers stare out of windows.

All righty, then! Breakfast was sausage patty and cheese on a buttermilk biscuit, with grapes. I Regret Nothing. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch is in question, because of the timing of the reading at the library. I will not starve, and honestly? This opens up the possibility of ice cream.

Quitting time got a little extended last night due to Shenanigans on the part of Steve's printer. By the time I was done clearing paper jams, I was, frankly, beat. Firefly put in a Very Clear Request for reading in bed, so we read read The Elusive Earl until I fell asleep.

Speaking of updates from the road! I will of course have my laptop with me, and I'll be able to update to Facebook, but I won't be able to update my blog at sharonleewriter, which is where I point people to for daily updates.

The Plan at the moment is to post to Patreon and set access to Public. This would be easiest for me, and I'll test the proposition today, to see if Public is, indeed, accessible to anyone who wanders by, and if said merry wanderers of the internets may leave comments.

UPDATE: Only PAID members may comment on public posts, says Patreon, which may actually be the best path, as the moderator will be engaging in Other Activities.

So! Who has Plans today?

Damp and Dim cat census:

Tuesday. Cold and dim.

Slept hard and late. So that's good.

I did not gather the trash and recycling yesterday, and am not going to do so this morning. Next week sees a return to Schedule.

Breakfast was muffin, orange, tea. Kettle on for second cup of tea.

Today, I'll make a grocery order and have it delivered. I suppose I ought to do that earlier, rather than later. I also have a pile of stuff that was put aside for page proofs, which, yanno, I really don't want to do, not least because they fall into that large category of things that are insipid and pointless to accomplish without Steve on-hand to offer insights, angles of approach, and random snipery.

I *would* like to spend some time with my story, so I may throw adulting to the wind and do that. What's the point of being an adult if you don't get to decide when NOT to adult?

I've started reading the 6th installment in Lord Julian's adventures -- A Gentleman of Unreliable Honor -- and I'm beginning to get a little annoyed with him. This is either an artifact of having read so many in a row, or because I actually am feeling better and therefore more irritable (the author does now and then drop a narrative stitch; nothing major, and no business of mine, really, but I hit one during yesterday's reading and gritted my teeth).

As reported elsewhere, the cats are at their stations.

. . . and so it goes.

How does it go with you?

Tuesday morning cat census: