Eagles Over the Kennebec

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:

OK, let's see...

Thursday. Sunny and cold. Feeling much more the thing than yesterday, which -- just let's say that it was a day when you drink peppermint tea and honey because your stomach hurts and that turns out to be a bad idea.

Got in an early four hours with the WIP this morning, and have verified that I'll be removing about 9,000 words. This is not a surprise; I kinda sorta knew I was going to hafta do it, unless I Thought of Something. Which I haven't, so -- into the Pull File they go, and maybe they'll be useful later.

I have a doctor's appointment at 2:30, and need to verify where I'm going. Also, I have emails that I need to answer, and! I need to tell Draft2Digital that, yes, I do want Pinbeam Books to be listed with Bookshop.

Still waiting on that one outstanding 1099-MISC.

I see that the judge overseeing the Anthropic Settlement has extended various deadlines for opting in, out, and sideways, which will likely put back the expected payout schedule, originally projected to begin in August. Granted, I never expected to see any money from this "settlement," but the whole thing's so infuriating that even reading the subject line kicks up the blood pressure.

And FedEx has just arrived to deliver a letter, so it looks like the range for hitting my house really is between 11:15 and noon. Which is actually useful information.

Trying to figure out if I want to try to see John Mellencamp's off-Broadway fine-tuning of his play at Ogunquit in October. I expect if I want to do that, I'll have to reserve a room at Ogunquit realsoonnow. Must lookout prices.

For now, I need to do my duty to the cats, and then heat up the soup I didn't eat yesterday, ref stomachache, and -- oh, yeah, find where the heck I'm supposed to be at 2:30.

How's everybody doing today?

The Long Back Yard

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Was hitting the keyboard by 7 am, taking a break now to take trash out ahead of the Winter Weather Event that's rolling in. I think that most of the accumulation will be on the coast, and so does the tree guy, who thinks he'll be by tomorrow to take down my two dead pines and do some tree work for the next door neighbors.

I have a date downtown with friends tomorrow, and I hope we won't be snowed out.

How's everybody doing this morning?
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Cardinal (male, for those who don't see cardinals in their back yards):

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Added about 1,000 words to the WIP this morning. Breaking for lunch. Still hoping to be able to have a Good Enough Draft by the end of the day. Can't type with my fingers crossed, though.

I am somewhat confused by the weather report. Seems like now we may just get a few flakes, which would be OK by me.

Tali tells me that she Very Much Likes pork and sauerkraut. I take leave to doubt this intelligence.

And so the midday report.
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Upcoming Author Event
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That's it. I'm calling this the Good Enough for Rock 'n Roll Draft. It does not properly end; it stops. This is not particularly unusual in our Good Enough for Rock 'n Roll Drafts, and I might as well stop here.

I wrote just over 3,700 words today, bringing this draft to +/-138,880 words. For comparison, Salvage Right was turned in at 132,000 words.

I will, oh, on Wednesday, put out a call for Beta Readers. If you're thinking you'd like to do this, bear in mind that what you will be reading is a draft -- which not only means that it likely has holes in it, but there are without a doubt misspellings, ugly sentences, disreputable punctuation and a shipload of other errors present.

What I'm saying is that beta reading is not for the faint of heart, the short of patience, or, really, the short of time.

This is not, notice, the Formal Call; that will come on Wednesday, when I will also explain what the nitty-gritty of beta reading means to me.

Rookie has been running up and down the hall like a crazy man for the last hour, looking for Happy Hour. Happily, I have Happy Hour right here in my pocket, and realsoonnow, I'll be serving that up.

The weather beans have abandoned the whole snow idea up here in the center of the state for right now. We may, it says here, get an inch on the overnight. Which is, actually, very good news.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I'll check in tomorrow.

The Long Back Yard:

Thursday. Got up at 5:30, because that's when I woke up.

Rained all day. Except for short breaks for PT homework, and eating lunch, doing one's duty the cats, and moving laundry from the washer to the dryer to the bed, I spent all day on Catalinc Station. Wrote about 2,100 words, WIP stands at something more or less like 132,000. And I still haven't gotten to The End.

Speaking of laundry. I was just now sitting on the bed, pairing up my socks, under Rookie's close supervision, when he stood up, grabbed a sock off my lap and headed west with it. I did catch him before he took it down to the cellar.

The spine doctor's office called today to gather information ahead of tomorrow's visit, and I'm feeling encouraged. The person I was talking to actually listened and asked follow-up questions that actually followed up on what I'd said.

So, I'm about done for the day, excepting a look at the email to see if there's anything I have to answer. If not, I'll read for a while, grab a sandwich and a glass of wine and call it day.

Tomorrow's going to be V. Cold at the ocean, but I believe I will time my trip so I have time to swing by the Actual Ocean and breathe in some salt air.

And that? Is all I've got. Writing being boring like it is.

What did y'all do today?

Oh! I am remiss in saying that the heated foot pads are awesome and I don't know how I lived without them.

The Long Back Yard.  For those who don't know why I do this:  The daily picture of the Long Back Yard is what the Long Back Yard looks like when I wake up.  Yesterday's picture was not a photographic or an uploading error.  Thank you.

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Something a little different -- Steve Miller and Sharon Lee signing Plan B at Mr. Paperback in Skowhegan Maine in 1999.

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All righty, then! That was Monday.

1,830ish new words written; the WIP now stands at 127,250ish. I have eight scenes left to write, and I know what they are and I just want to keep on going, but -- why do brains get tired? Definite design flaw. I want a refund. I had used to want a new brain, but I've finally figured out how to (mostly) work with this one.

Tomorrow? There will be no writing. I have A List.

pulls list out of sleeve
AHEM
1 Take trash and recycling to curb
2 7:45 go to PT
3 Go to grocery
3a Stop home and put groceries away
4 Go to Augusta
4a,b,c Run a stack of errands that have piled up since last week
5 Come home
5a Eat something
6 Go to needlework
7 Come home and faceplant

Wednesday through Sunday, however, I got nothing. Fingers crossed that I will be able to type a provisional --end-- by Sunday night.

Re: being tired of a book in progress: Writing a book is an enormous undertaking; a stupidly complex project that takes way too long (NOTE: I do not speak here for the people who write 58 books a year and laugh while they do it. I am not them.). As with any other large, complex project, like, say, building a boat, there are times in the process when you just wanna throw your hammer out the window and walk away. Not because you think what you're building is useless or dreadful (though there are those moments, too), but just because it's taking So. Damned. Long.

Writers have a far different relationship with their books than readers do, starting with the disparity in the time it takes to write a book and the time it takes to read that same book.

And that's Monday at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How'd everybody's day go?

What went before:

Saturday. Sunny and warm. Snow is melting apace.

Breakfast was, as planned, the leftovers from yesterday's chef salad scrambled with two eggs, which made for a pretty big meal. Not sure what lunch is. Cheese and crackers? Could be cheese and crackers.

Got to work early despite having to stop and fix the toilet in Steve's bathroom. I should say, mostly fix. It's stopped the constant running, but the float seems to have sprung a leak, so there's still a little water running out of it. I've been resisting calling a plumber, becau$e, but that may be a false economy.

Wrote about 700 words, and taking a break because that last scene reduced me to, um, tears.

It occurred to me that there ought to be heated mats to go under desks, and there are, byerlady! So -- retail therapy FTW -- a mat for Steve's office, a mat for the studio -- a mat for my office? Oh, why not?

After shopping, I'll go back to write some more until lunch time, after which it's track changes, which, with the application of a bit of elbow grease, I may finish today, and wouldn't that be nice?

Also? Despite having been doing nothing for days, the desk in my office is once again overflowing with stuff. I hope the goblins haven't found another way in.

I bought a very nice "beginner" demonstrator pen from JetPens -- it arrived yesterday. My only beef is that it's a cartridge pen, but there's getting to be some days when I oughtn't be left alone with a bottle of ink, so there is that.

I can't really tell you much about this pen, since the packaging is completely in Japanese. I can say it's a Pilot pen, and it's name appears to be kaküno. Writes nice and smooth; very light in the hand. I haven't dropped it yet, so can't report on its durability. Cheap, too. Under $15US. I got the medium nib, because that's the way I roll. If you've been thinking about trying a fountain pen, this might be worth your time to explore.

Thanks to everyone who suggested anime worthy of watching. I remember I was looking for Spy Family the day Steve died... This is not to lay blame or to invoke the Sad, but to say that I had apparently thought we'd enjoy it, and while I have Crunchyroll, I might as well have a look-in.

And, yes, I am talking about trivialities while the world is on fire. The only thing I can do at this point, is what I always do, and be a witness for civilized behavior.

deep breath

How's everybody doing today?
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So, yeah -- cheese and crackers and an orange. That's lunch, innit? Am drinking "figgy pudding" tea from my Christmas teas. I had not been sanguine, going in, but it's quite tasty and delivers the warmth that the rest of the meal lacked.

On the writing front, that's +/- 1,340 new words. WIP stands at +/-124,785.

As soon as I've finished my tea, I will do my duty the cats, then clear a space on my desk so I can track me some changes.

The cats think I ought to take a nap, and they're probably not wrong...
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Toe bean break:

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Yeah, I should've taken a nap. OTOH, the track changes are done and returned, and! I managed to turn off the water running into the toilet, go me.

I had made a comment the other day in my rant about the cost of Sssses and the prevailing wisdom of adding a "third" S to perfectly good words. Sometimes, in fact, the prevailing wisdom only adds one extra S.

Example: Chaos's

That? Is an ugly something or other.

In my day, believe it or don't, when you had a situation where you needed to show that Chaos was being possessive, you indicated that by this: Chaos'

Which looks much better to me than all these random Sssses wriggling all over the page.

All that said? I'm tired, and Rookie is insisting that it's Happy Hour, so it must be time for me to wash the pots 'n pans.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I'll check in tomorrow.

Wrote about 1,000 words so far. Taking a break to do PT homework, and to open the door so the FedEx guy could put the cat litter in the vestibule for me, and to come to terms with a couple of hard truths.

Hard truth number 1 -- I'm not going to be able to give stained glass the attention it deserves. I want to do it, but -- writing first, and cats, and PT, and having to sleep -- and I don't have time to embrace another art as it deserves. I hate this, but here we are. I still intend to finish my second piece, but I think I won't be going forward.

Damn.

Second hard truth -- I'm really glad I had two other people read the results of my MRIs and talk to me about what they mean, because I just got a note from my doctor saying that the results are "unremarkable." Now, the results are not epically bad, and if I keep at the PT, I can probably get to a place where my back will be stronger and less likely to kick out (though it occurred to me last night that I still need some kind of drug intervention on hand for if/when it does), but the tone of this thing is "It's all in your head," which, when I was a kid and having a hard time figuring out what was this "real" people kept talking about, was devastating. I'd gotten it wrong again, and mixed up Story Stuff and Real Life Stuff.

My skill level on that front is much better 60-odd years down the road, and now? I'm mad. No, it is not in my head. Yes, it is remarkable because if I don't do something now, it will get worse. Jeebus, do I gotta explain this stuff to a doctor?

Also, there's a bill from the practice, which, yeah, I really feel like paying.

What else? Oh. I brought my boom box up from the studio and rigged it up with an extra set of Steve's high-end Bose speakers, and now I can listen to CDs from our own collection in the living room in the evening when the cats and I retire to read, and I'm not dependent on Sirius or Maine Public playing exactly what I want to hear.

Speaking of which -- this morning I heard something interesting on Sirius XM (thank you, Tommy London). Once Upon a Time, there was a band called Damn Yankees, which was a pretty good band -- Ted Nugent, Tommy Shaw, Jack Blades, and Michael Cartellone -- that put out two pretty good albums. And, as they were on their way, literally, to the studio to get album number three in the can, they were contacted by their agent. Their label was offering them a million bucks not to make the album.

They took the money, and the band . . . disbanded.

Now, I have no idea what discussions ensued before they made their decision, but, my ghod, what a decision to have to make. And I can see that one consideration would be that, if the label wanted to get rid of them to the tune of a cool mil, if they didn't take the money, it was likely the third album would never be promoted and the band would still have to disband -- and be broke, too.

Well.

Time for PT homework. I may send out for Chinese for lunch. Or not. I have leftover curry. Speaking of decisions...
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I'm always pleased when Steve joins me for my walk. Today I was offered the insight that the thing which has blocked my finishing of my second piece of stained glass isn't a lack of time -- when I was cutting pieces out, I'd go to the studio for an hour in between writing this or that and cut glass -- but lack of a tool, which also comes down to a lack of time. I don't have a grinder, and I therefore need to rent a studio and drive out for what amounts to a day to grind my pieces.

If I had a grinder in-house, I could just keep on with my hour of Art While I Think.

So, now what I need to ask is: Am I committed enough to this new art to purchase a grinder?

Whole different question.

And? Collaboration in action.
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So that's a total of 1,841 words on the day, bringing the WIP to 121,060ish. The scene I wrote today may be too long, but I liked the character. And of course the minute I got up, I thought of two other things that need to happen in that scene, so! I printed it out to read tomorrow morning while I'm in the comfy chair with the sunlamp.

I'm thinking this weekend is divesting myself of Christmas. The wreath is kinda bleeding needles, and the cats are not fans.

I had leftover curry for lunch, and by virtue of adding leftover peas and rice, and throwing in some onions and some green pepper, there's still curry left over, though I'll probably give it a break tomorrow.

And that? Is all I've got.

Everybody stay safe and have a good evening.

I'll look in tomorrow.

Today's blog post title brought to you by Deep Blue Something, "Breakfast at Tiffany's"

Oh, no, wait! That's not all I've got. Here, have a picture of Rookie.

What Went Before: Tuesday

Total WIP +/-118,724. The cats were a great help.

I? Had forgotten there's a Zoom business meeting this afternoon at 2, so I'd better get my chores done and my lunch et.

The driveway, as predicted is a sheet of ice. I've figured out that all I actually have to do is get inside the garage, so I can get in the car. I can stop on my way out (in the car) to needlework, to collect the mail, which is small snowy tramp. It'll work. Ghod, I hate ice.

I did not try to take the trash or the recycling to the curb this morning, ref "ice" above. Maybe next week.

How's everybody doing at midday on Tuesday?
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So, that was exciting. I was getting ready to leave for needlework and!

The garage door was frozen shut. By luck, I had been heating water for tea, and went out and poured the kettle along the inside the door and it opened. Sadly, I did not think of this before I had called my excellent plowguy to see if he had any ideas, and disturbed his evening, but I think I did catch him before he got on his way to my place with rock salt.

I went to needlework, and came back. The car is in the garage, but I don't dare close the door because I have a PT appointment at 7:45 tomorrow morning.

This is why I hate ice. In addition to the whole sliding situation.

The coon cats have had happy hour and I have poured a glass of wine.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I'll check in tomorrow.
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Wednesday, sunny and cold.

Back from my early PT appointment, from which I have gained a lot more homework, which I'm supposed to do many times a day. I'm going to have to put a lot of thought into how I'm going to accomplish all this and, yanno, write, read, play, with the cats and all those other extraneous things I do. I obviously don't want to be crippled with back pain, but I'm thinking there's a middle ground here, and I need to find it.

After PT, I treated myself to breakfast at Governor's where, I kid you not, one waitress was handling the whole room, and busing too, until somebody else came on shift. It wasn't over-crowded, but it was busy enough, and this is where it pays to be a long-term employee in a business that thrives on regulars. She knew just about everybody, we all knew her, nobody was in a hurry or on their way to a Big Freakin' Meetin' or anything -- and between us, we made it work.

I stopped by the Post Office, collected the mail, stopped by the crosstown Hannaford, which I'm going to have to visit more often, as they seem to have more of what I'm wanting than the one round the corner, and came home to get one of the bags of Emergency Ice Melt Steve had stashed in the back of the garage onto the sled. I opened it with my trusty shovel, then we all half-skated out to scatter melt-crystals over the driveway.

. . . I'm getting down to the bottom of things that Steve stashed away against need, which is a somewhat melancholy realization, along with the other melancholy realization that I'm going to have to be advertent regarding these things.

Ice melt disposed, I came inside, made myself a cup of hot chocolate and checked on the cats -- who are all in Steve's office, because That's What We Do in the morning.

Excellent cats.

Today, is making 2026 files, which I didn't have the oomph to do earlier, and setting up next year's accounting. I have leftovers for lunch, and a good book to read when I'm done my chores.

How's Wednesday at your place?

Wednesday morning cat census:

Press of business yesterday meant that I forgot to update y'all on the ever-fascinating details of my life.  I now make amends.  Thank you for your patience.

What went before

SATURDAY
Wakened early by Tali cursing the universe and the gods who had fashioned it.

Got up to find Rookie in the hall with a mouthful of orange fur, and Tali sitting on the edge of the dining room table (yes, yes, where No Cat is allowed, and it's possibly worth noting that Rook did not follow her up there, so at least somebody pays attention to the treaty). Firefly was squinched under the standup desk in my office.

So! I don't know exactly what the disagreement was about. Possibly Tali told Rook he had a stinky butt -- and if so, she was not wrong. So, we did some cat clean up, and then I took a shower to finish waking up and here we are.

Kettle's on, and Happy Lite also.

And how's your morning going?
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It says here that I've been playing Finch for 500 days.

. . .not sure how I feel about that, actually. . .
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Wrote about 800 words, WIP currently weighing in the vicinity of 115,790. Stopping to do PT homework, one's duty the cats, and um. I should eat something. I guess. Maybe a piece of leftover ham onna leftover biscuit. That's lunch, ain't it?
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Do I look healthy to you?

Time to talk to the virtual-visit nurse.

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SUNDAY

The Long Back Yard

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Well. 2:30, hey?

I got Involved. Wrote +/-1,335 words, did some tinking of former words. The WIP entire now weighing in at +/-117,180. I think I have eight more scenes to write.

My Plan is to write those eight scenes, and then put out a call for Beta Readers. NOTE: This is not that call. I'll tell you when.

In between new words, I bought myself some on-sale alpaca socks form a local alpaca farm, and did a couple loads of laundry. I really thought I'd done laundry last week, but -- maybe not. Whatever.

The cats were with me all day -- that would be from 8:15 am until just a couple minutes ago. In fact, they're still in Steve's office, because once you get a good sleeping place primed, you just don't walk away from it.

Though it be late, I have dinner/lunch/whatever on the stove -- leftover chicken in gravy, peas, and mashed potatoes. I may actually have a glass of wine with that, because I am done writing for the day. (Breakfast, for those keeping score was oatmeal with almond butter and chocolate chips mixed in. Yes, again. I'm as baffled as you are.)

What else? Oh. I'm doing an Author Event at the Waterville Library on February 21, so I may start giving some thought as to what I'll be wanting to talk about. I will be reading from Diviner's Bow, and taking questions, along with the talking.

So! How's everybody doing this afternoon?

The Long Back Yard.

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Oh, let's see -- Friday?

I guess we'd better go with Friday. Sunny and colder'n . . . yeah. -4F-feels-like-minus-11F. That'll do.

Breakfast was the left over half of the yam from yesterday's lunch, fried, with a side of cottage cheese. Right now, I'm eating a chocolate chip cookie with my second cup of tea, because I Am An Adult. Lunch will be (some of) the now-defrosted chicken breasts and, oh, maybe stuffing. Because I Am An Adult.

Sarah is due in about half an hour.

Speaking of viewpoints -- yes, yes, but bear with me. It's a craft thing that really interests me. I live for the scenes in our own work where someone meets Miri or Val Con, or both of them, and gives the reader their conclusions drawn on what they think they're seeing. It never gets old. (Oh. Or Shan. I Love It when people tell us about Shan.)

That said, on Wednesday, the New Yorker calendar served me up a cartoon of Santa speaking to a herd of reindeer, or possibly to the one in the foreground, with the big nose. And Santa is saying: "Remember! No matter how different you are, if you prove yourself useful, you can still earn the privilege of being forced to work with your bullies."

I didn't get it at first, because brain/morning/cats, but yanno? That retelling is genius. Genius.

And it also reminds me of something I heard on the internet not too long ago -- paraphrasing here, "I have never wanted to trade lives with anyone who bullied me."

So! Today is about doing Real Life Chores, which is a bore, but I need to cope. Because I Am An Adult.

Who else is Adulting today?