Eagles Over the Kennebec

So, it's been an exciting few days here at the Confusion Factory.  For the first time in five years, I have a new pair of glasses.  Also!  We opened the Hummer Bar, starting with two choices of venue -- the Flying Saucer and the Hot Air Balloon.  Not fifteen minutes after we opened our doors, we served our first customer, and there has been a steady flow, since.  I anticipate opening the annex in the front garden sometime in the coming week, and possibly relocating the Hot Air Balloon venue from the back deck to an existing feeding station in the back yard.

Speaking of lawns and yards and gardens -- it has been a banner year for daffodils.  Honestly, I don't remember that we had this many daffodils, but my memory is a little patchy in spots nowadays, and it's hard to argue against daffodils, so I'm just pleased to see them.

We -- by which I of course mean Jeremy the Landscaping Guy -- have installed three more cedar trees (emerald arborvitae), which fills in the line between our house and the Neighbors to the Right. This should have been done last year, but a lot of things didn't get done last year.

The day after the Planting of the Cedars, we entertained Robbie the Arborist, who took down several trees in the back that had been fatally damaged in the big winter wind storms.  Sadly, two of them were birch trees, and their absence really changes the view from my office windows.

Pete the Builder has accomplished the long-awaited steps from the deck to the back yard.  Still some more work to do there, but having the stairs in place, and thus a second way out of the house in case of emergency, is a huge relief.

Up next week is a visit from the Dump Guy, to give us a quote on taking down the shed in the back, similarly damaged in the winds, and hauling it away, along with various repositories of Actual Junk in the garage and elsewhere.

We're also looking for a return of Jeremy the Landscaping Guy, bearing two red maples (acer rubrum red sunset), and a Snowdance Japanese tree lilac, for the front lawn, the maples to provide shade, and the Snowdancer because its gorgeous, and neither one of us could resist the name.  As soon as the City tells us where the sewer and water lines are, we'll have them planted, and then we can take a breather.

. . .except for getting the book finished and turned in, and three short stories written.  Yeah, yeah, piece o'cake.

Here have a picture of the Hummer Bar:

Today's blog title brought to you by Johnny Nash, "I Can See Clearly Now."  Here's your link.

So, recovery is a strange country.  I'm not in the habit of thinking that I actually do very much of an ordinary day, so it's a little -- no, make that considerably -- annoying when I can't complete what I consider to be a normal day's to-do list.

Yesterday being a case in point.  I went to the gym, did my strength training, pushing a little, because you're supposed to challenge yourself, amirite? -- walked 1.11 miles in 21 minutes (this includes the cool down), and tried to feel that this was a success*.  Then I went to the grocery store, came home, and -- smashed right into a wall. I was exhausted.  Steve made lunch, and after I still couldn't keep my head up, so I jettisoned the rest of the to-do list and spent the afternoon under a shifting blanket of cats, reading.

Man, I hate hitting walls.

Today, it's snowing (the Weatherbeans are calling 4-9 inches), and is any way a non-gym day, and here we have the to-do list:

1  Keep front steps accessible

2  Make refrigerator soup for lunch

3  Get with the accountant's tax packet: at least print it out and get the letter in the mail

4  Strip bed and wash sheets -- already in process

5  Hit the Command Chair with the Mead 5-star notebook** and a pen and organize the short story I've been working up scenes for while I should be thinking about something else

. . .It seems a very slight list, but the idea is to Hit No Walls, and if that means vacuuming tomorrow, then -- the cats get an extra day of peace and quiet.

____________

*(This was after the first treadmill I was on spontaneously leapt from 3 mpg to 14 -- I hit the STOP realfast, youbetcha, but wow, what a rush.  The scary part being that the Planet Fitness associate on the spot couldn't figure out Why It Had Done That.  I hope it doesn't catch somebody else.)

**Apropos of Nothing Much, I've been chewing through the Mead notebook, which is lovely to write on with the fountain pens. Anticipating its final page, I bought a six-pack of Smart Campus "subject notebooks" by Kokuyo, offered by JetPens, which are supposed to be the bee's knees for fountain pen use. We'll see, eventually, I guess. Maybe even soon, given the fact that there's this OTHER short story I really want to write, too, and have been putting it off because its a Maine Coast story, in the Archers Beach universe, but not set in Archers Beach, which no one will want to read, but sometimes you gotta just get stuff out of the way.

This message is for those of you who primarily connect with me through Goodreads.  I am, in the face of the ongoing carnage and lack of oversight demonstrated on Goodreads*, removing my account -- in fact, I would have already removed it, save that the instructions provided on-site for deleting an account are, um -- inaccurate.  It will take Goodreads 5 days to get back to me on this.

Apparently, authors can not leave the system entirely -- Goodreads will still record new books and publish reviews -- like Amazon.  But I will not be directly involved even in the small way that I did participate.

Those who wish, can bookmark and follow this blog.

Thank you for your understanding and patience.

__________________________

*For those who have not been following the story of carnage and lack of oversight, I offer this synopsis of events, compiled by Jason Sanford.

I do like Mr. Higgs' dress blues.

In other news, the Dead River guy arrived two hours early for his 10 am appointment to do the annual cleaning and testing of the boiler. Happily, the office called ahead and woke us up, so we put pants on. I threw the cats into the back hallway, so that they didn't go downstairs to help the boiler guy, whose work is located in the Goblin Room. Boiler guy has departed, leaving us with the happy news of work not covered under the annual contract which will need doing in warmer weather. This will apparently be a zoo, because of the Numerous Zones we have in this house, and the fact that all of the lines will have to be drained before the work is done. They will then need to be refilled, and air in the lines is apparently A Thing.

Today, I have some Administrative Stuff to do, along with prep for Steve's visit to the Cardiac Center tomorrow. We're wanted there at 6:30 am so...wow, yeah. Prep. I already have two paperbacks in my backpack, a portable battery in case the phone needs recharging on the fly, a notebook, pens, and a couple of oatmeal bars -- so the essentials are covered, at least.

I have explained the upcoming schedule to each of the cats. Possibly, Scrabble believes me; the coon cats unanimously think I need a nap.

The story, as yet titleless, stands at just under 5,000 words; it should be right around 20,000 by the time everything plays out.  I will not be taking it with me to work on at the Cardiac Center, because that would be pointless.

Also, no, I have not looked yet at the half-a-book (which also need a title) which is due in September, nor yet have I read Accepting the Lance.  Next week things will become more regularized.  She said sternly.

I believe this brings everybody current.

Stay well, and happy.

So, it's been a Exciting! Few! Days! here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.  Allow me to recap.

There were appointments with health care professionals in the beginning of the week for Steve; and in fact, he was at a doctor's appointment on Thursday when I decided to vacuum the house, which surely needed it.  Got out the Dyson Cinetic Big Ball Animal Allergy vacuum (successor to the venerable Dyson Cyclone, I think it was called, which was not up to the contributions of three Maine Coon cats), started to vacuum the kitchen rug and -- thud.  The brush bar stopped moving.

Said a few choice words.  Unplugged the vacuum, went down the hall to the change bottle and got a nickle, a dime, and a quarter, and returned to the scene of the crime.

Now, the former Dyson could be completely disassembled in a matter of minutes using only a dime.  The new Dyson, I quickly learned, is Far More Sophisticated.  Instead of two big, gaumy plastic screws holding the brush assembly in place, there were four teensy, tiny, star screws.  I searched for and eventually found the many-headed Philips screw driver, located a head small enough to do the job, and got to work.  Three of the screws came out -- I won't say easily -- butt he fourth was in it for the ages, and wouldn't budge.  Steve came home about then, and he couldn't budge it, either, so I repaired to the internet and got in touch with Dyson.

Several emails later, it was determined that, indeed, the machine needed to be repaired, and I should take it to the nearest UPS Store, where it would be boxed up and sent to Dyson at no cost to me.  I was given a Repair Order Number.

I had physical therapy on Friday morning, so added the transport of the Dyson to UPS to the errand list.

As it happened, Steve elected to come with me on Friday, and it was he who escorted the Dyson to the UPS Store.  The woman on the desk signed into the Dyson webpage, found the work order, took the machine, matched up the number in my email from Dyson, and -- that was it.  Our refurbed machine ought to be back home in 7-10 days, and in the meantime, thank ghod, we still do have the Dyson Cyclone, else we'd be awash in cat fur.

So, that.

Today -- continuing the theme of excitement -- the mail included information for the 2018 National Carousel Association's Convention.  Now, I have long wished to attend one of these conventions, which includes tours of private collections, visits to numerous carousels, and band organs, and whatnot, but -- they've been in places like Kansas, and Michigan, and California.  And, also, inconveniently close to WorldCon.

This year's convention?  Is in New England:  Rhode Island, Connecticut, Massachusetts.  The Convention Itself is from September 12 through September 16, but there's a pre-convention warm-up on September 11, which includes four "extra" carousels, for a Grand Total of 15 carousels, 2 museums, and a private collection.

This is clearly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and -- yeah, I'm gonna try to figure out a way to do this thing.  Steve has allowed as how, though very cool, this is not something he thinks he wishes to partake of, so I'd be running solo.  On the other hand, I can drive, or take a Greyhound, to the Convention Headquarters in Connecticut.  There's also a vendor room, but I'm not sure I want to schlepp the carousel books with me, on the off-chance three people will want to buy a set.

We'd only be back from WorldCon about a week by the time I'd have to head out again.  On the other hand, I wouldn't be scheduled for panels, or, yanno -- work -- at the Carousel Convention, and -- in theory, anyway -- there wouldn't be a short deadline breathing down our necks. . .

Yeah, I can do this.

I think.

Today's blog post title brought to you by the Beatles, Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.  Here's your link.

Amazonian updates at half-past Rolanni's first cup of coffee. . .

The kindle edition of The Crystal Variation is this morning not for sale at Amazon.  If you, as another Friend of Liad did, need to read the Crystal books right now on your kindle, please purchase the omnibus from Baen.  Here's your link.

Courier Run, Adventures in the Liaden Universe® Number 18 is on sale in the Kindle Store, but God She knows which edition it is they're selling (the Warning Triangle is still present on the page, warning the unwary of TYPOS), or if they'll continue selling the book in any edition at all in five days.  At this point, I have so many multiple, and confusing emails from Amazon that I'm forced to believe that one tributary of the Big River doesn't know what the other tributaries are doing.

The Hugo Awards were presented last night in Kansas City.  Congratulations to all the winners! Here's the list of finalists and winners.

Yesterday was a lovely, full working day -- and the laundry's almost done, too!  Today is breezy and sunny and oh, so tempting to go to the ocean, or at least the shore -- however!  It is a Sunday in August.  I will, therefore, stay home and?  Work.

On the subject of Housekeeping:  WordPress helpfully closed comments in the Spoiler Thread for Alliance of Equals.  They have been re-opened, and (unless there's a sudden massive upsweep in comments, in which case the moderator will withhold her hand) will be closed by the moderator on August 31.

I think that's it for Sunday morning -- except, yanno, more coffee! and more laundry!  and more words!

Everybody be good.

Here, have a nice, long snippet for Sunday:

That being the case, he was merely Theo's brother -- an unhappy circumstance, given that Theo's home culture held that the proper duty of women was to protect and care for the lesser sex. Even his position as her elder did not weigh nearly so much as the fact that he was male. His necessities must naturally wait upon his sister's.

Still, he had played the kin card cannily, hoping that the joyous occasion of a niece might tempt her where a brother did not. It appeared, however, that he had miscalculated.

Today's blog post is brought to you by The Moody Blues, "Day Begins," from the album Days of Future Passed, which I adored, back in the day, and which I don't even own anymore.  Ah, Life.  Here's your link.

I've added a new page at sharonleewriter.com: Conventions Attended from 1996

As it says on the page, this is necessitated by the fact that I have taken down all of the con badges that were on my office wall, in preparation for The Great House Shift.

So, a couple days ago I did the read-through (and fly-edit) of the first 60 grand of Necessity’s Child, then brought the blood-soaked pages back to the desk to input the changes.

And stalled at Chapter Four, because, um.

Let’s just say that Chapter Four is a Pivotal Chapter and it’s kicking my can.

Anyhow, this morning, in-between bread-punching, laundry, and torturing Mozart, I sat on the couch with a yellow pad and a pen, and Brooded.  I also doodled.  And made lists about other parts of the story, and had an epiphany, which is that I was holding shy of the villain ’cause they scare me.  As they should.  Very scary villain, here.  Just so you know.  And doodled some more, and realized that Chapter Four needed to explicate the Top Level Conflict, not the Secondary Conflict.  Which helped about as much as you’d think it would, so I went back to making lists, and realized the perfect time for the villain to — well, never mind.  But it’s awesome, really.  At least, I’m in awe.  Also kind of bummed that I hadn’t thought of it weeks ago.  And doodled.  And wrote some dialog.  And a little more dialog, and went back and made notes on the Big List of Stuff that Has to Happen before I wrote some more dialog, and…

I don’t want to be Unduly Optimistic, but I think I may have Chapter Four nailed.  The writing will tell, of course, but — I think I’ve got it.

Of course, that means that the information that’s actually in the present-but-soon-to-be-former Chapter Four has to go someplace else, because it is important, just not important where it is.  But I think I can sprinkle bits here and there throughout the existing chapters.

Fascinating, nu?

In far more interesting news, I see that Frency and the Punk’s Kickstarter campaign to raise production money for their next two CDs is less than $200 short of their goal.  And!  They say that, if donations total more than the basic production costs, the overage will go toward producing a lyrics book, which excites me, because, well.  Y’all know how I feel about lyrics.

OK, so.  The bread’s about ready to put in the oven, and we should rustle up some lunch.  After that, it’s the big Chapter Four rewrite.

Spot me; I’m going in.

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

"...y chin," that should be. Who knew there was a character limit on LJ subects?

Have I mentioned here that we’re getting our deck replaced? It’s time — past time, really; the whole structure kind of wobbles and shakes and it’s a whole new dance form, getting down the stairs. It’s a Pure Miracle that it didn’t fall down last winter, though I’m grateful that it stood its duty.

Because the people who built our house had this Negative Feng Shui thing going, the house is sited so that (1) the summer sun shines directly into the kitchen window for long New England hours every day in season and (2) the snow, when it blows, curls over the roof of the house and falls with a thump and a bump directly in front of the door. There were at least two occasions last winter when I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to get the door open, and, just by the way, using the kitchen door for a snowplow hasn’t done it much good, either. So, what I wanted (being as I’ll be doing the best — for values of best — part of the shoveling) was: (1) a deck that wouldn’t fall down with the first snow load, (2) new stairs with a banister on both sides, (3) a peak over the door, to break the snow-fall from the roof.

Yesterday, the guy who’s going to do the work came over with a pad and paper and drew sketches and marched us all over the existing deck, and took measurements and did on-the-fly arithmetic, and worked the thing out three ways from Maybe, looking for the best outcome for the least bucks.

I don’t often get to watch somebody else in the throes of a creative fugue, so that was a treat all by itself. I said to Steve later, If this is what we look like when we’re riffing the story in public, no wonder people sorta back away, smile and nod.

Anyhow, at the end of it all, we have a design for a slightly shorter deck with a longer stairway up from the ground, so it’ll be less like climbing a ship’s ladder. The main part of the deck will be roofed, and covered in nice tin, so the snow-fall from the roof will slide down into the yard beyond the deck. The only thing that’ll need shoveling will be the stairs. And! as a Special Bonus? The roof will block the summer sun.

In other news, Mozart and I are still working with the print-out of Necessity’s Child, and in odd minutes I’m trying to figure out Google+ and why on earth I should be involved in Yet! Another! networking site.

Oh, and? It’s raining.

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