Eagles Over the Kennebec

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:

What went before: Tuesday: So, that was no fun. Woke up sobbing sometime around midnight, apparently so I could buckle down and get the thing done properly. The cats piled on and did their best; Rook left at one point and came back with one of the floppy foxes he uses as wrasslin trainers when Tali don't wanna, and tucked it under my chin.

Long story short, I finally went back to bed around 7, woke up around 10, with a headache naturally, and all things taken up and tallied, I do believe that today I'm taking one of my banked Sick Days.

Do feel free to talk among yourselves.
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Wednesday. Sunny and going to be warmer.

Slept long and hard, assisted by coon cats. Woke up hungry, but haven't done anything about that yet. I'm thinking scrambled eggs and sausage are on the menu, as soon as I'm finished here.

Today, I need to go out and run errands. Notably, I need to take the Epson ink jet to the repair shop. The proposition that I do so was not met with Wild Enthusiasm, but an agreement that they could "look at it" and see if it was something simple. If not, printers being so twitchy and hard to fix and all, the advice is that I would be "better off" buying a new one. So, we'll see, I guess.

Also need to go to the grocery store and probably the post office. Then back home for some more reading of the WIP. Oh, and figuring out how to cancel Cook Unity, instead of just stalling it, which is what I did for this week.

I still have the lingering rags of a headache, and I'm inclined to call Foul, but, hey, maybe breakfast will help. EDITED TO ADD: Breakfast has been et. Feeling much more The Thing.

How's everybody doing?
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Ink Jet Printers: A Teaching Fable.

Once upon a time, printers were rated as to the number of pages per week they could be expected to handle without having a screaming breakdown. Those printers that could handle a heavy workload, week in and out, were called "office printers."

We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory legitimately ran offices: we printed letters, and manuscripts, and flyers, and all sorts of things, and because we subscribed to the Asimov Theory of Typewriters (paraphrased): "Always have a spare, and a spare for the spare, because you don't ever want to be in a position where broken technology means you can't write" -- we each had our own printer and (usually) a printer that still kinda sorta worked, which had been semi-retired, and could be pressed back into service in case Catastrophe Struck.

We bought, in a word, for the Ages. At the moment there are two high-capacity printers in this house, both inkjets, both work horses, neither cheap. Both are, yes, more than 8 years old, because I remember Steve carrying them into this house like they were infants.

In comparison, back in 2012, I went to live for a month at the ocean, where I was going to be finishing the second Carousel book and making a good start on the third. Obviously, I needed a printer, but! I didn't want to schlepp my good printer to the ocean and risk getting sand in the workings.

So, I went to Staples and I bought, I kid you not, a sixty dollar inkjet printer, which came with two ink cartridges, guaranteeing, I think, 600 pages between them. Subsequent cartridges cost Approximately The Earth. Important Plot Point.

Off to the ocean I went. The Sixty Clam Printer worked flawlessly for the entire time I was away, and I did not stint it. When the month ended, I brought it home, and put it online as a "spare," mostly to use up what was left of the ink.

Two weeks after I got home, the Sixty Clam Printer died the true-death, without even finishing the ink in the second cartridge. I took it to the local computer recycling joint, and waved good-bye. Sixty Clams owed me nothing, and it certainly wasn't worth getting it fixed, not with what the home office was charging for ink, and I had a Good Printer at home.

Moral! Not all ink jet printers are cheap pieces of crap that ought to just be thrown away when they develop a glitch. Analysis is worth your time.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

And! The caution tape trick worked for the second day in a row.

Unlooked-for side effect: my next door neighbor saw the tape and got in touch to ask if my door was acting up again, because -- caution tape. I explained. I think Chewy owes the cats one more box, so we'll be doing this again tomorrow, though with different caution tape, because I unfortunately did not hide today's tape, Rookie managed to tape himself up with (thankfully) the painter's tape and by the time I caught and untangled him, the caution tape was a loss.

For those following along at home -- it looks like the book I'm finishing up now will be scheduled for Spring 2027, month of release to be determined.

Back to work I go.
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Well. I did finish the WIP. I did not print it out, because I still have some housekeeping to do -- notably trying to tidy up the section headers. So, that's for tomorrow, and then print out and read.

In other news, Google tells me it's going to snow tomorrow. Wunderground begs to differ, predicting rain tomorrow and snow on Sunday-into-Monday. So, I guess we'll see.

I had been kinda lookin' for a day when I could scooch down to an oceanside somewhere, being as I will be shortly be a Free Woman, but it's looking like the first day without any shenanigans planned is next Friday. Well. I can always finish my poor, neglected glass project.

Or, yanno, bake bread? I could bake bread, people! And -- cookies, and muffins, and -- Good Ghod -- the sky's the limit, here.

*deep breath*

...a brief break to feed the tiny, starved, and abused kittens I rescued from a Mean Writer Lady who never fed them or brushed them or fed them or played with them or fed them...

I really don't know how people can be so cruel.

So! Tomorrow Sarah will arrive in the morning, and I will retire to Steve's office to straighten out the header problem, and then I will make the lunch I had planned to make today, but I was writing, so I ate a TV dinner outta the freezer instead, and print out a book.

And on that note -- g'night. Everybody stay safe. I'll check in tomorrow.

Monday. Warm and rainy. Today is Tali's 4th birthday. She insisted that we all get dressed up for the occasion and as you see we have done that for her.

Also included in today's pictures are the long backyard and my new embroidery project -- the very first one I have designed myself.

The plan today, as it has been for a number of days, is to write. I am really almost done. I really wish that my brain did not helpfully remember everything I've written as garbage that needs to be rewritten 14,000 times.

So far, Cook Unity has been . . . okay. I only had the one unsatisfactory meal. The butternut squash and lentil soup was marvelous, as was the salmon, yesterday. I have Great Hopes for today's mushroom pot pie.

It occurs to me that my cleverness knows no bounds, as I had booked a Rest Week at Old orchard Beach the week before Memorial Day, which seemed like a good idea at the time. However, I did NOT have a Middle East war on my bingo card, and now I'm wondering if I should cancel because it's very probable that I'm not going to have enough gas to get there.

Honestly, this timeline.

So! How's everybody doing?

Tali's Birthday Photo Album

Where were we?

Ah. Sunday. Time Change Day. I Ignored All The Advice, and went to bed late last night, because magic show, and slept past the new-normal waking time of 6 am by the Old Clock to 7 am OC, putting me well behind Everything.

For Calibration Purposes, it is as I write this sentence 9:21 am New Clock.

May I just say that it's a good thing I don't have to leave the house tomorrow. Or today.

Weather is currently cloudy, drizzly, and warm. I'm hoping today will be the coup for the ice field at the bottom of my front steps. I need to do something about that, though Exactly What escapes my imagination at the moment -- it forms every year and it's a death trap, getting deathier and trappier the older I get.

Last night's magic show was enjoyable. I did meet the magician very briefly as he toured the house before-show, in his melant'i as "stage manager". I had somehow failed to understand that I had a seat in the Very First Row, odd-side. I was in sort-of the middle, with a family of three sitting to my left and filling out the row.

The "stage manager" stopped by, hunkered down in front of our "group" of four, and asked us for our help. It seemed that a big part of Michael's show was telepathy-based, including calling cards that people were thinking of. The Ace of Spades, according to the "stage manager" had been coming up in people's thoughts just way too often, and our help was solicited in thinking about other cards.

He then pulled out a deck of cards, fanned them and offered them to me. "Pull a card, look at it, but don't show it to anybody -- put it inside the folds of your brain and just really think about it hard. Then give the card back to me. OK? OK!"

I chose a card (the ten of spades; I believe my prohibition against sharing that information expired at the end of the show), assured the "stage manager" that I had it firm in my mind, and he repeated the exercise with the people to my left. Then he left, telling us most earnestly to think hard about our card.

I mention here, because I noticed it, that those were very thin, slick cards.

When the magician came on-stage, and after a brief smoke, he called the daughter of the family to my left to think about her card. He then drew it on a pad of paper. The three of diamonds! Ta-Da!

And we were off.

A good time was, I believe, had by all, and I eventually wandered my way home to resuscitate my cats, who had all expired of hunger in my absence.

Today, I write, and do laundry. In fact, the first load is drying, and the second is washing.  I wish I could say the same about the WIP.

I'm drinking my first of what I believe will be many cups of tea on the day, and I really ought to find something to eat.

How's everybody doing today?

Thursday. Sunny and chill. The cats are sitting in the sliders in Steve's office, squirrel watching. Am sitting in the comfy chair in my office. Drinking a cup of Darjeeling, I think, (edited to add:  It was Lapsang Souchung) and basking in the happy lite.

I find that I really don't have much to say this morning. I'm going to go get breakfast and hide inside my story.

How's everybody doing?

Dictated to my phone
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Worked. Made stirfry for lunch. Scrubbled cats. Have a few things to clean up in the business office, need to wash the pots 'n pans, and do one's duty to the cats.

Then I believe I shall go back to Steve's office and recover the old, ill-tempered GNOME-based system, because COSMIC? Is not ready for prime time. I hate it that stuff gets released when it doesn't work, and by "doesn't work" I mean -- surely, the primary use of a computer is to handle files? I means, yes, they also do math, and play music, and host games, but these things are also file-based.

I see No Benefit to ... anyone ... in a computer system that can't reliably cope with its own files. So -- big step back for me, and fingers crossed that the recovery process is fairly seamless.

In other news, not content to nag me to sell my house, now there are people who want to buy my car. Given a new Forester costs on the order of +/-$40grand and I'm being offered +/-$27grand for my current Forester -- I don't see the appeal, aside having a new car, and it happens I ain't jonesing for a new car right now.

For those keeping score, the snow is melting fast under the sun and (cold) breeze. I had a go at smashing up the ice in the driveway yesterday, which, among other things, is pretty good therapy. However, I will not be so indulging myself today, because I really can't afford for my back to go out again.

I have not today seen the news, but I don't suppose we've jumped to a better timeline. Call me a pessimist.

I think that's all I've got.

Hope y'all are having a good day.
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I've been having a fascinating discussion with System76 Tech Support, who assures me that COSMIC is functional for many of their users, and incorporates all of the things those users depend on, which -- it boggles my brain, but I Am Only A Writer, and this thing is barely doing anything that I need and depend on.

Apparently, however, the ability to order one's own desktop is not a top-tier "feature." They're still working on that one and should have it ready by June.

In the meantime, the recovery ... didn't, so I'm kinda stuck. Happily, I am from the Past and still have access to sneaker-net. But it is kinda off-putting that I can't backup my day's work to the portable drive (in addition to Dropbox), because while I can see the damned thing in the margin, when I hit Copy Files To -- it disappears.

*throws hands in air* *catches them*

Anyhoots. I did work today. Tomorrow morning, Sarah comes to clean, and sometime tomorrow my first delivery from CookUnity will arrive.

Exciting times.

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

Tech Support sent me a restore file, which I flashed to a thumb-drive and booted from and!

I'm back!

And all of my files are intact!

Cabana boy! Wine!

And a glass!

Monday. Full moon shining down through the clerestory window in my office.

It has been a long, strange day. I wrote, broke for lunch, and did a few chores, then when back and wrote some more. Ghod this is easier with two brains. Ahem. Having said that, I'm not precisely sure where the day went.

It must have been the Gala Celebrations that put me on the wrong foot.

Now I know that my tax rate has increased from 12% to 21%, and what that means in actual dollar$, I was able to write the check to pay off the installation of the sliding doors in Steve's office. And there will be no more of that sort of frivolity in my life going forward, ref 21% above.

Tomorrow is All Errands All The Time. Wednesday and Thursday, most of Friday and Saturday, Sunday, and Monday are cleared for writing. Also, I really wish my brain was on my side, rather than the chancy ally it is. Flogging myself into a lather is really counterproductive, but all I can do is work around it.

I am, for those who have not given up on the whole Liaden Read-along, currently reading Scout's Progress, which, every time I read it, I think "Yanno? This is my favorite Liaden novel." It, with Local Custom, are of course the two Liaden novels Most Vilified by the Real Man Chapter of Real SF Readers.

Steve got not one, not two, not six, but many letters from chapter members urging him to "take control of his wife," "clear all that relationship crap out," and "write 'real' stories". It would have been comical if they hadn't been so angry.

I'm reminded of ... Hawthorne? "That damned mob of scribbling women?" -- I'm pretty sure it was Hawthorne. Local Custom and Scout's Progress are worldbuilding masterpieces, though I say it of my own work. In addition, they are subversive, as all "real" fiction should be, and SF most of all. The characterization is flawless, the dialog is lovely, and -- I'm just really proud of them, right?

But because they show the differences between cultures in terms of relationships, and families; in terms of the welfare of a child, and a woman who isn't safe in her home -- they were, as several chapter members who probably had never read one opined -- "Mills and Boon garbage." As well as "a disgrace," and "not SF at all."

Well. Rant off, I suppose. I should get something to eat, and a glass of wine seems to be in order.

I hope everyone had a good day. Yes, I've seen the news.

Stay safe. I'll check in tomorrow.

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:

Sunday.

No screaming today, though I'm being hard on myself for not getting "enough" done on the WIP. That I've rearranged several chapters and rewritten four more is the merest bagatelle.

I really need a time-turner.

This week upcoming has me phoning The Earth tomorrow. Tuesday, I'm wanted in Bath at an Unghodly Early Hour, with needlework in the evening. Firefly visits her vet on Wednesday afternoon. Thursday is blessedly free. Friday morning, Sarah's scheduled to come in and clean, and it is also the 2nd anniversary of Steve's death. I'm giving a talk at the library on Saturday afternoon, when it's supposed to -- *checks wunderground* -- ah. Downgraded to "snow showers." Much better.

It is entirely possible that I will not be much around for the balance of this week.

Everybody be well. Stay safe.

I'll look in as can.

I . . . have been remiss in updating the blog, for which my apologies.  The last couple days have been not much worth writing about anyway -- mostly reading and doing daily chores, with intermittent sadness.

That said, we move on to!

Monday midday already. Sunny and cold. I put paper plates of seeds out on top the snow on the deck. I prolly shouldn't have done, but I miss seeing the birds. The cats are fascinated and the new sliders in Steve's office gets them right up close and personal.

I called Dead River this morning, while I was still sitting under the glow of the Happy Lite, and was therefore taught the new method of oil delivery. Back in the Old Days, the oil truck came on -- oh, Tuesday. Or possibly every other Tuesday. But, they delivered to a schedule, which they could be expected to keep, to top off the tank. This was ... simple. We have now graduated to a more complex system, wherein oil usage for a particular address is calculated, using known data, and when the oil tank at that particular address reaches what ought to be one/third full, an oil delivery is triggered.

I pause here to mourn simplicity.

The helpful office person I spoke with at the crack of dawn this morning explained this to me, though she could not tell me when the delivery would be triggered. We left it that a truck would come by sometime this week to top off my tank, and then I will Observe the System in Real Time, so that I may see for myself how well it works.

Moving on. Yesterday, my back hurt, and my hands hurt, and -- let's just say that I was a hurtin' person, enough that I was aware that I was hurting. After I finished my work with the WIP, and had written a draft of my Remarks, I decided to field test a gummy. For Science!

I cut a gummy in half (taking it from 10mg of THC to the 5mg  recommended for newbies), which dose is said to make one feel calm and subtly relaxed. It made me feel that I had drunk way too much wine.  Not a pleasant buzz, but rather a "shouldn't have had that last glass" light-headed-and-unsteady feeling. I mention here that the muscle relaxants and prescribed pain relievers also make me lightheaded and foolish on my feet.

On the plus side, I was feeling no pain. I spent the next while drinking lots of water, and eating snacks and listening to my audiobook, and eventually the "too much" feeling went away, and pretty soon thereafter, I went to bed, and slept very well.

And when I got up this morning, I was still pain-free.

So! Conclusions. Do gummies work for pain relief? Yessir, they do, and they don't make me sick. Most of the prescribed pain relievers and muscle relaxants really make me sick. Already, I'm ahead of the game. Do gummies work as a muscle relaxant? Seems so, since the pain hasn't come back today. And let's not discount that lovely night's sleep.

Obviously, I'm going to have to be very cautious with them, and I may want to conduct a follow-up experiment with one-quarter of a gummy, to see if I can get relief and! still be able to function.

But that's for later.

For today, I spent the morning reviewing the WIP and have less than 50 pages left to read. I'll be doing that after lunch, which will be bean and veggie soup out of the freezer. Unless I decide on something else.

Tomorrow, I will start the day off by opening the tax portal and will hopefully finish filling in the necessary forms before it's time to go to needlework.

Wednesday morning, first thing, Tali has an appointment with her vet, and when I come home I will begin reviewing beta reader comments, and starting the process of producing a final draft of the WIP.

Doesn't that look tidy and fine?

So! Who else is tidy and fine today?

Ah.  One of the things I let get past me was the Celebration of Talizea's Gotcha Day, on February 3.  Here, we have Then:

And now: