Eagles Over the Kennebec

What went before ONE: The korval site...I'm updating pages that were created in 2012, in case there are some people around who think we're fly-by-night.

...I'm remembering one con runner who told us that when our names would come up for GOH at the meetings for various cons (he was involved in several, as many fans are), the typical reaction was half the room would say, "Whoa! Steve and Sharon! Yeah, we gotta have THEM!" Meanwhile the other half of the room would be looking at each other and saying, "Wait. What? WHO?")

Which brings me to the very reasonable question of why I'm going to BaltiCon to stand up in front of an auditorium full of people and Say Things, all of which is going to be Rather Stressful.

And the reason is -- Granting that Steve and I were lifemates, which I at least believe, the Text says: While one lives, both stand. I wear both of our wedding rings to remind me of that principle. And Steve would have wanted to go to his very first home in SFdom and receive the award in person. He would have been glad and proud, and I'm not the one to deny him -- or if you like, his memory -- this small joy.

Note that this doesn't mean that I'm not pleased and proud -- I am. But if I had been deciding only for myself, I might have made different choices.

TWO: And I just went downstairs to find water all over the floor. Apparently, the water heater is leaking. Yes, the one that was replaced on Thanksgiving Day in 2022.
. . .waiting for the plumber, and had to cancel my lunch date.

grump

THREE: And the plumber just left. It's not the hot water tank, it's the unit between the boiler and the hot water tank and that? Falls into the honor of Dead River, with whom I have a service contract.

Have called. I'm promised that someone will be out today.

FOUR: Dead River guy has replaced the faulty unit, so all I have to do is mop up the water.

In other news, the accountant called. I can pick up my taxes tomorrow. I owe money, which surprises no one, though -- filing under "blessings, small" -- I'm still taxed at the married-filing-jointly rate this one last time.

Somehow, this day has gotten away from me.

FIVE: So, I remembered that there was a wet/dry vac huddling under a table in the basement, and that speeded things up considerably. I slipped coming down the, um, "stairs" to the basement hatch after I went outside to empty the dirty water, which means that I probably need to find somebody to make me a set of actually usable steps, but other than that, the large puddles are no more and the goblin room, where the hot water heater and all that sort of thing live, is plenty warm enough for evaporation to do its thing.

I did lose a small throw rug, which was Just Saturated, and is probably the reason that the common room wasn't any wetter than it was.

I'm going to try to write a couple hundred words, but this? Was not the day I had planned.

SIX: Yeah, that twang you heard was my last nerve snapping.

Pause for a couple glasses of wine, some coon cat lap time, reading, and sleep

Thursday. Looks like it rained overnight. cloudy and coolish.

Breakfast is a KIND bar and a cup of tea. There will at least be another cup of tea, if not *several* more cups of tea in my immediate future.

Ashley's due in this morning, and I have done the picking up. I need to print out some things to take with me back to Steve's office when she arrives, so I may be able to get some things done, as I wasn't able to yesterday.

Today, started with two successes in the mail, so I'm *really* hoping for a far different kind of day today.

I have to run out this afternoon to pick up the taxes. And since Trooper, after a brief few hours of respite, has returned to being "not right," I'll call the vet for prednisone, and pick that up while I out and about.

Tonight is ASL class. What with It All, I'm still a little rocky on the vocab and if anybody wants me to count higher than ten, we're going to have to find a piece of paper and a pen.

And that's all I know about anything at the moment.

What do you know?

Trooper helped me read the sample of The Space Between Worlds last night.

What went before:

Yesterday, I went first to the Verizon store on behalf of my phone. Having called Murphy's attention down upon me by packing for a Day at the Verizon Store, I was -- the first one there, and had three reps at my beck.

The first was newish, but told me that my screen protector was cracked. I said I thought it was the screen and would be grateful if she could prove to me that it was only the protector.

This was a little too assertive (sigh), and the second rep came over to explain that I could request a protector from Corporate, or buy one at the store I was standing in and they would install it for me.

I thanked her for the information and once! again! asked if it could be demonstrated that it was the protector and not the screen that was damaged.

She looked at the phone, with the cracks radiating out from the chip, and said, "Oh, yeah; that's the screen protector."

I invited her to remove it and assure us all that it was not the screen that was damaged.

...what I tell you three times...

She shrugged and peeled the protector (which itself is some kind of glass, who knew?) off. Indeed, the phone itself was intact.

The second rep installed the new protector, I paid the first, and exchanged farewells and keep-warms with the third rep, who had wisely kept herself aloof in case somebody else came in the door, and went home, richer by an uncracked screen protector and poorer by 50 small.

My trip to the dentist was more expensive and more nerve-wracking, but all's well there, and I don't have to do it again until November.

Moving on. . .

Tuesday. Cold enough for me. Sun's an orange ball behind the trees. I'll get the trash out when it's warmer than -1F/-18C.

Waked before my time for a Cat Clean Up Emergency. First cup of tea is here at the desk with me. Breakfast will shortly be sausage and cheese on an English muffin and the rest of the pineapple, assuming it's still edible. Lunch will chicken breast and -- A Vegetable to be Named Later.

Worked past coon cat happy hour, getting my credit reports frozen, and Steve's (because I never got 'round to doing that other thing. Honest, the few things that are turning up to be dealt with now drag at me like the stuff I had to do Just After Steve left didn't. 'course then, I was laboring under the delusion that I was finishing up a few chores before I got on the road to join him at the new place. Brains, man; what will they think of next.)

Anyhow, the credit freeze is nailed down. I should probably lock down the cards I don't use often (or at all. BOA, I'm looking at you.), but that has to wait until I get the cats' chips refiled.

I ought to go to sewing today; it's been basically forever. Also I need to pick up the papers from my lawyer, and make? A phone call!

Last night, after my labors with the credit agencies, I made a cup of tea, and betook myself to my bed to read. Tali understands reading in bed, the rest of the guys, not so much, though Rook gave it a try. It worked out pretty well for me, until I had to actually, yanno, go to sleep and had to be shifting pillows out of the way so I could lay down, and by that time, I was awake again.

I think that's all I've got, and I really ought to get with breakfast.

What've you got going today?

Today's blog title brought to you by Laurie Anderson, "Sharkey's Day."

So!  I went into town this morning, as planned, accomplishing gym, and a whole-wheat-and-white-swirl baguette fresh from the oven, and! Jimmy Hendrix stamps (for Steve) and circus stamps (for me).

Back home, I decided to wash my new skirt that came today.  The washing went fine, but when I put it in to dry, the dryer started to scream and smoke.  Took skirt out of dryer, hung over shower rod to dry; called Ray the Appliance Guy, who promises to come by around 5 tonight to take a look.

While this was going on, Steve was putting together salads for lunch, and cutting pieces off the baguette and mixing up an olive oil dip, and all.

After lunch, we had some excitement.  By which I mean, more excitement than the dryer perhaps dying the death.  A UPS truck pulled up in front of the house and one of the nice young men handed me a box from hellofresh:

We opened the box and removed the contents.  Here's what we'll be eating for dinner for the next couple, four days:

Each plastic bag contains the makings for what the HelloFresh people apparently thinks is a meal for two, and which we're thinking is at least two meals each.  In the back left, chicken breasts and steak, on the right, ricotta cheese, and spices.

This is an experiment to see how well we like this concept.  There are times when not having to go out and forage would be very useful.  Will report back.  If anyone wants to try this -- for science! -- drop me a note off list; I've got a discount code to share with friends.

While we were ooo-ing and ahhh-ing over the contents of the box, other residents of the house had taken custody of the box itself:

We put all the food away, and looked out the window onto the deck to find that we had been invaded by red-breasted grosbeaks!  Proof:

So, that's the excitement du jour, here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

No, wait!  I'm wrong.

The sun has just come out.

Wow.

So, today Steve and I went into Waterville early, first to see the ever-pleasant Jessica, who administered much-needed haircuts, and afterward to carry on with the Big List of Errands.

"Post Office" had a place on the list, so off we went to the other side of town, in Argent the silver Subaru.

Now, you need to understand a couple of things before we move on to the next part of the story.

The first thing you need to understand is that it officially snowed 21 inches in Waterville Friday-into-Saturday, and that yesterday it snowed another two-ish inches.

The second thing you need to understand is that the City of Waterville Public Works Utterly Sucks in Maine Winter Sports, Sidewalk Clearing Division.  They're also right near the bottom in Street Clearing.

The third thing you need to understand is that it's February, which is winter; and damn' near everybody dresses
"wahm."  I'm talking flannel shirts, jeans/khakis, thick socks, snow boots -- you get the idea.  In fact, even when it's not February, many people tend to dress this way.

Oh, and the fourth thing. . .If you sleep at the homeless shelter, you're not allowed to stay there during
the day; you have to vacate the premises and go Do Something Else.  Sit in McDonald's and nurse a small cup of coffee for four hours.  Camp out in one of the less-used rooms in the library until staff rousts you. 
Walk the streets.  Whatever.

Got all that?  Super, let's boogie.

When last seen, Steve and I were driving in Argent the silver Subaru from Apollo Day Spa and Styling Salon to the Waterville Post Office.  It is a clear day; not sunny exactly, but there's no weather going on, and it's warm -- about 36F/2C.  Because it's warm, there are people out and about -- walking in the street, a lot of them, because the sidewalks are filled with snow.  The streets, having been unevenly cleared, are slightly thinner than those same streets are, in August.

You enter the Waterville Post Office parking lot off of College Avenue.  For us, today, it will be a right hand turn into the lot.  Except that there is a pedestrian walking in the street, close to where the curb might be, if you could see it -- an older lady, very thin, wearing a coat a little too light to be "wahm," slacks ditto, a watch hat pulled down to her eyebrows.  She's a little hunched, her gait's none too steady, and she's leaning heavily on a three-footed cane.

The ground is, recall, covered with snow that is slowly morphing into slush.  This is a dangerous and slippery material.  You don't -- you really don't -- want to be walking in this stuff.

But the lady with the tree-footed cane, is walking in it, albeit very slowly, and she is just stepping into the entrance to the Post Office parking lot.  She is ahead of us, and it's clear that she intends to cross the entrance and continue on down College Avenue.

Steve pulls Argent the silver Subaru to the side of the road and we prepare to wait for the lady with the cane to finish crossing the driveway.  This may be some few minutes, granted, but we weren't exactly on a schedule, and besides, what else was there to do?

Glad you asked.

Because what happened next was that a black Jeep whipped around Argent, and into the Post Office parking lot, cutting in front of the lady with the stick, splashing her a little with slush, and from my perspective, cutting the whole thing 'waaaay too close.

Happily, the lady did not fall; she continued on her way, and after another minute was far enough advanced that we could pull through behind her.

The parking lot was very crowded and confused, as it often is, especially after a snowstorm, when the grounds crew has pushed all the snow into the two end parking spaces, making a tight situation even tighter.  In fact, there is a mini gridlock and right in front of us is the black Jeep.

While the Jeep is stuck in the grid, the passenger door opens and a willowy man wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress slacks risks the finish on his shiny shoes by descending to the slushy surface and rushing into
the post office.

In the meantime, the line of cars has moved enough so that the Jeep can swing into a parking slot and so can Argent.

I get out, cross the lot, and as chance would have it, I'm going through the doors to the post office just as the Jeep's passenger is coming out, and I said to him:  "You guys nearly hit that lady."

He keeps going.  Naturally.  I shrug, and also keep going, down the lobby and up the hall to our post office box.  I hear, behind me, a man yelling, but I don't think much of it, assuming it has to do with the gridlock outside, until the voice is right behind me: "DID YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME?"

And it's the guy from the Jeep in his pretty white shirt, and I said, "Yeah.  I said, you guys almost hit that lady."

"WE DIDN'T ALMOST HIT ANYBODY!  WE HAD PLENTY OF ROOM! IT WASN'T EVEN CLOSE!  WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS?"

Now, granted, that was a pretty good question, but honest to GHOD they had almost knocked the poor woman down, and in snow and slush all bets are off, I don't care how good a driver you are or how your car has four wheel drive.

"MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!"  he yells again, and starts to storm away.

"Excuse me?"  I said,  walking toward the main lobby -- he was well ahead of me, but he heard me and when I get to the lobby, he was blocking the door, and three normal people were standing absolutely stock still, staring at him (mind, now, he's already run into the post office yelling at the top of his lungs, and now he's leaving the post office -- or maybe not -- yelling his head off).

"I SAID MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!  MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! WE DIDN'T HIT ANYBODY!  THERE WAS ROOM!"

A guy about my age, stocky, dressed wahm, gimme hat pulled down over long grey hair, kinda eases up from my left, watching the man in the white shirt with this intent, really still look on his face.  Your man is still yelling, standing there in his expensive, not at all wahm, clothes, his fancy haircut and his long silky tie -- honest, he looked like an alien, standing there.  Who dresses like this in Waterville, Maine, in February, with the slush all over the ground?

I stared at him.  The guy to my left stared at him.  The woman who had been bending over to pick  her key up from the floor stayed exactly where she was, face averted. An old fella over by the parcel post chute was
watching, back against the wall.

The man in the white shirt turned and stalked out, splashed through the slush and got into the Jeep, slamming the door behind him.  The Jeep was moving before the door was fully shut, backing around at an unsafe-for-conditions speed, and probably without looking to see if there was anything in the way.

The bent-over woman picked up her key and turned aside.  The stocky guy shrugged and moved away.  I left the post office, crossed the slushy lot, and got into Argent the silver Subaru.

"So!" said Steve, "what's next on the list?"