elbales

We had an unexpected treat last night. The big city fireworks are tonight, downtown. We've never even tried to go there, because crowds, heat, parking, etc. Not to mention that there have been a disturbing number of shootings in public places recently. However, the Village fireworks a mile away have been doable for us in the past. It involves carrying a folding chair about a mile, on foot, to avoid the traffic afterwards. Last year, it was very hot, and the homeward trip was a bit much for us. So this year, we decided we just wouldn't bother. However, we discovered that they have changed the location of the ignition platform, so the fireworks go off just above the treetops, and are visible from our bedroom window! We had the perfect seats and didn't even have to put our shoes on and go outside. Then it was rolling thunder all over town for about an hour and a half. People around here must have a lot of disposable income, because I heard thousands of dollars worth of private fireworks going off.

Today the high was 93, the hottest day so far. I woke up early, and went for a walk about 10, before it was absolutely sweltering. It was still pretty hot, though. When I got home I was disconcertingly unenthusiastic about doing anything. I don't like that I'm still tired and that everything takes too long! I changed the sheets, washed the sheets, and put away a heap of trip laundry. I should be scurrying around cleaning things up, because the Dante Book Club, which was supposed to meet elsewhere, is meeting here tomorrow after all. Our fearless leader, who was supposed to host, has chosen to live without AC, because reasons that I don't fully understand. I think he's sort of a re-skilling kind of guy who is preparing to survive without modern conveniences, should that become necessary. Anyway, the last time we met at his house in July, everyone but him suffered quite a bit, so he has made a concession that we could meet elsewhere. We have the biggest house and the most AC, so we felt we should volunteer. Thus I humble myself once again by allowing everyone to come in and revel in my dust. Because in theory, I could clean everything up by brunch time at 11, but in practice, if I can remember to thaw the bacon, that will be as much as I can manage.

To quote James Shirley (again), "Only the actions of the just/Smell sweet and blossom in their dust." Let's hope I'm just enough, and that bacon will smell sweet enough to cover my dust.

rolanni

Saturday. Sunny. Predicted to be much warmer than yesterday, so the windows are, sadly, closed, and we're on station air.

Breakfast was half a blueberry muffin and cottage cheese. Lunch is as yet undecided. I have pork chops that I need to bake, so I could do that at lunchtime, rather than this morning, and freeze two, instead of three. That might actually be the way to go. Turkey burger chili can happen tomorrow, when the 'beans are calling for really hot, and I will definitely be hibernating in the coolth.

Other chores on the day include answering emails, taking the clean dishes out of the dishwasher, swapping out the cat fountains, one's duty to the cats, taking a walk, doing back exercises, and, well, writing.

Since my best writing time is between lunch and coon cat happy hour (and, if I'm honest, after coon cat happy hour til, oh, 10-ish, but I really don't think I'd better go Fully Nocturnal; things are weird enough around here), the Current Plan is to clear chores/appointments in the morning, and after lunch, to write, even if the chores aren't done. There will, after all, always be chores.

Speaking of chores, I Have Viewed How-Tos on YouTube and am confident that I can keep the shower and surrounding bathroom up to spec without killing myself, so *that's* good. God She knows that I have vacuum cleaners. And dust cloths. The only thing that's still a Puzzle are the basement stairs. I think I can handle the cordless vac on the terrain, but there was something amiss with the cordless vac, pre-BaltiCon, which I will have to investigate, now that I'm home.

. . . and John Fogerty has just informed the Listening Audience of Classic Vinyl that "Down on the Corner," was inspired by Winnie the Pooh, whom he imagined busking on a city corner with his band, Winnie and the Pooh Bears. Strange man, John Fogerty.

I do believe that's All The News.

What music are you listening to this morning?

Today's blog post brought to you by War, "Low Rider."

ismo

It was a quiet Fourth of July (though it's not dark yet, so the fireworks haven't started). I woke up about 5:30 and put the flag out. I had to put my sunglasses on to do it, and I wore them indoors most of the morning, because my eyeball is still very light-sensitive after being lasered. I couldn't read very well with the sunglasses on, so I occupied myself with boiling the potatoes for potato salad, cleaning and cutting up the strawberries, and ditto for the lettuce while I waited for the Sparrowhawk to get up. After our usual First Breakfast, coffee and conversation time, and listening to Beethoven's Ninth, which was on Sirius XM, we considered going out for a walk again. By this time, it was around 80 degrees and getting steamy, and we came to a mutual decision to take a nap instead. We were awakened at noon by the monthly testing of the tornado sirens, but we fell asleep again before they had even stopped. Good thing it wasn't a real tornado.

So it was not a day of mighty accomplishments. The Sparrowhawk read the Declaration of Independence out loud, as he has from time immemorial. My favorite memory of this is the time we went to Blackjack Park in Kansas, site of John Brown's first battle, and he read it there--just before the mammatus clouds formed and the sky turned green and erupted in hail as we arrived home and ran pell-mell into the house and down into the basement. It wasn't actually a tornado that time either, but close enough. We watched "1776," which is something he likes to do. It's a bit sad not to have any kids around, but the benefit is that they can't mock our choice of traditions. Or our musical abilities when we start singing along.

They wouldn't have mocked our dinner, and I wish we could have shared it with them: steak, potato salad, caramelized onions and mushrooms, sweet corn, green beans, salad with radishes and cucumber. And we're about to take the cherry pie out of the oven. The Sparrowhawk was definite about turning down fireworks this year. It's hot out, and we have recently spent quite enough time plodding around in sweltering conditions. No doubt we'll hear them when it gets dark, although the trees will probably prevent us from seeing more than a few sparkles at the margins.

rolanni

Odd day. Wrote +/-1850 words after throwing out the words I wrote yesterday, which, yes, sounds like a waste, but in fact was not because if I hadn't written those words, I wouldn't have known they were the wrong ones, and forced the boys in the basement to Do Better. What I need to do now is piecing so I can see the Big Picture, so to speak. I'm not unhappy with what I've done so far, and very glad I had a whole day to bear down. Today's labors brings the total WIP to +/-47,760 words.

I'm pretty tired from all that bearing down, so no more new words today, and honestly? I may leave the piecing til tomorrow, too.

In Writing Adjacent News, I've applied for a place as an author in the Bangor Book Fair, in December. I have very little chance of being accepted, but, yanno, none if I don't fill out the form.

I see that the credit union is replacing my credit card with a Whole Nother credit card (not just a renewal of the existing card), come August, which means I need to move the things I have on auto-pay somewhere else. What fun. Also, it looks like I need to find if I have any so-called "rewards" on the existing card and, if so, clean them out, as the new card will not have rewards, but it will have a very respectable 9.9% interest rate.

I also have some mail to answer, but I keep losing the list until I'm too tired to write a coherent letter. Maybe if I put it under my tea mug, I'll see it first thing tomorrow. It's a plan.

I had a turkey burger and baked beans for lunch, and I have discovered that turkey burgers are limp and hard to manage, and also don't taste that great. I still have three of the dern things, but I figure they can be broken into pieces, since they want to do that anyway, mixed in with other things and thereby made to taste better. I mean, I do know that you can't have chicken and mushroom dumplings every day, but I had expected a little better from the turkey burgers.

It's been a cool(er) and breezy, so I have the windows in my office open, and I've been enjoying the company of all four cats most of the day.

. . . and that's the report from the Confusion Factory.

Hope everyone's had a nice Friday and/or holiday.

Friday Census and Proof of Life:

ismo

I really need an eyepatch, like a pirate. The possible "light sensitivity" that I was warned about has been pretty significant today. I've been wearing sunglasses and keeping one eye shut like Quasimodo much of the day. I also wince when I move my eye around, which is interesting because it shows how much I use my eyes in facial expressions when I'm talking. I guess the obvious solution would be to stop talking and remain expressionless, but I'm not very good at that.

We're still waking up pretty early. This morning, we took advantage of this to go for a walk while it was still under 80 degrees. The Sparrowhawk kinda ran out of gas toward the end of the walk and had to go rather slowly and painfully for the last few blocks. However, he's very game and says he's glad we did it. I had a lot of other things I was hoping I could get done, but everything just takes so long. I did manage to go to the grocery store and put away all the food, and then do some food prep for the Sparrowhawk. I cut up the chicken so he could marinate it, and chopped up the peppers, mushrooms, onions, and bok choy so they'd be ready to add to the mix.

Our little old people pastime is to go to bed early and watch an episode of Columbo. We have a tv in our bedroom, a legacy from my mother's old apartment, so it's a pretty old tv. It's not hooked up to cable, but only plays DVDs. If we finish watching all the Columbo episodes, we might move on to something else, like a rewatch of Stargate:SG1. It takes a long time because we only do it as a treat, when we're able to go to bed early enough. Last night, we tried, but I fell asleep before the murder had even been committed. The Sparrowhawk is also reading me Lucky Starr and the Pirates of the Asteroids, one of the books that got him into science fiction as a kid. It is so ridiculous that I complain loudly--when I'm awake! But it's been absolutely hopeless lately, because I fall asleep after only a page or two and then he has to start over the next night. We'll be giving it another try in only a few minutes.

My phone has left Budapest and has entered Germany! It's supposed to get here sometime next week. I am very excite.

rolanni

BUSINESS FIRST: The Uncle wishes everyone to know that there are still signed copies of Diviner's Bow available from his website. Signed books make wonderful gifts!

The preview is showing Fair Trade because the link takes you to a catalog page where all signed Lee-and-Miller editions are gathered into one happy place.

Here's the link.

Wrote +/-1060 very drafty words, which I am not adding to the Official Count until the scene is finished. Which it ain't.

So, questions on Tali's preferred brush. It's called a Safari brush, and is a soft, two-sided rubber brush. There are Tricks to using it. I use the brush, then I take a towel and just smooth it over the cat to get the last of the loose fur out. Tali likes both the brush and the toweling, which are both very gentle operations.

What's so special about dumplings? someone asks. No, not Bisquick dumplings. Chinese steamed dumplings, stuffed with chicken, or pork, or veggies, or combinations thereof. There are also sweet fillings available, but today I went with the savory -- chicken and mushroom. Very good; I expect I'll be a return customer.

The food truck court is right around the corner from a house that Steve and I seriously considered buying, Some Time Back. We decided that a house that had three steps between the kitchen and the dining room, and three steps from the living room to the bedroom, one step from the bedroom to the bathroom, and two steps down to the sunroom, might not be so good if one of us got sick. Nice house in many ways, including having a separate office wing, and an attached garage, but the stairs were a deal-breaker. But, man, what a location, twelve years down the road.

In more personal news, Ashley has left me; she has discovered that she's allergic to cats. This means I'll be doing my own housework (poor writer; like she hasn't been doing her own housework for 50 years), which isn't necessarily a Completely Bad Thing. I'd been looking for stuff to hang a Schedule on, after all.

Also! I will be taking a Social Media Free Day tomorrow in order to Concentrate on the WIP. For those who worry about me not having enough fun, I do have turkey burgers, and buns, and baked beans, so that I can be appropriately festive.

Everybody stay safe; those who are picnicking or otherwise celebrating -- have fun!

Let's check in with each other on Saturday.

rolanni

What went before: Did some handwritten work; tomorrow I'll be typing. I still haven't figured out who XX are, but I'm sure they'll tell me bye-n-bye.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served up; I've got a couple more things to do, then I'll be pouring a glass of wine.

Everybody have a good evening; stay safe. I 'll see you tomorrow.

Oh. For some reason, this got kicked up by the photo program -- this would be me on my 61st birthday at The Lindsey House B&B in Rockland Maine. FWIW.

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Thursday. Sunny and warm. Thunderstorms called for, later, with hail.

Breakfast was cream cheese on an English muffin with grapes on the side. I am back from the chiropractor, and thought I was in for the weekend, but! There's a Dumpling Truck at the KMD Food Truck Court today, and -- it just might be that I'll have to go out again in a few. We'll see. I mean; it's not like I don't have food. OTOH -- dumplings.

Today, I do intend to devote most of my time to writing, dumplings or no dumplings. Tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday will be more of the same. I know what I'm doing first off, so -- all good there.

I spent some time with my Garmin Watch this morning, and to hear it tell the tale, I live a Very Stressful Life. Which I'm supposing is not impossible, Given Everything. It's worth noting that the days when I'm, err, less stressed, are days when I'm writing, so -- I'm going with that.

Tali's fan club will be happy to know that I've finally found a brush that Tali likes; she was purring the whole time, and even turned over for me, so I could brush her belly.

In other news, I'm listening to Faking It by Jennifer Crusie. I'm having an OK time with it, but something about the narration itches at me. Maybe some books just aren't meant to be read aloud? Though Steve read it to me when I was being bathed in the energy of one thousand angry suns every day. OTOH -- I found Steve's voice soothing.

My reading is A Gentleman of Questionable Judgment, the 9th Lord Julian novel, which I had somehow missed, so now catching up.

. . . and, yeah; I'm for dumplings. I was going to have stir-fry chicken and veggies for lunch, anyhow. Dumplings will go great. And it's not like they can't be steamed and heated up for later.

See me convince myself?

So -- who has a long weekend coming up? Plans?

Sometime Later: The chicken and mushroom dumplings are to die for.

And the lavender honey latte is good, too.

Yeah, I went crazy.

It's summer. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Here's a picture of Tali, post-brushing, and the boys, Judging me:

ismo

I had two adventures today. Neither one was entirely joyous. I decided not to try to take Madame out today, because I needed to be back in a timely fashion to be ready for my eye surgery. I picked up a mocha and some lemon cake. When I walked into the memory care unit, it smelled. So did her room. She was in sad shape when I arrived. Out of respect for her dignity, I won't describe the sight that met my eyes, but it was no condition you'd want to find an elderly loved one in. There was almost no one around. The social director was out on the patio with half a dozen of the residents, giving them popsicles. Madame apparently had gone to her room to use the facilities, and had encountered difficulties. I removed her shoes so I could help her change her panties etc. And there was a lot of etc. It ticks me off, not because I mind helping her, but because people are being paid quite a lot of money to do these jobs. They should be doing them, not me. Also she really needed a bath, and her room was a mess, but these are tasks I'm not about to take on. Mademoiselle says she has signed up her mom for a different and possibly better care facility, but she apparently doesn't have a plan for moving her yet. It can't happen soon enough.

Dementia doesn't get any better over time, and neither does visiting people who have it. Madame is very worried that everyone will move away, and she will be left alone. She didn't remember being visited yesterday, although I was assured that she'd had visitors. She has trouble making her phone work. She believes her car is outside, and if she could just get into and leave . . . . She thinks her mom and dad are still alive, and wonders why she doesn't have their number so she could call them. She came up with a new suggestion today: that if I couldn't drive her to her house, I could take her home with me and she would call someone to come and get her from there. I was able to put her off by telling her truthfully that I had surgery scheduled for this afternoon and couldn't take her with me. She tried again to escape when the staff let me out. It's pretty heartrending and sucked all the moxie out of my depleted moxie reservoirs.

Then I went off have my eyeball lasered, a process they assured me would take about three seconds. I was giving a numbing injection and ushered into the waiting room. And waited. And waited. One person after another joined me there, until there were seven of us. After an hour or so, we were informed that the doctor was performing emergency surgery. After two hours, a very nice young man came in with a basket of snacks and water bottles, and said he was sorry but the doctor was now on his SECOND emergency surgery of the day, but would get to us any time now . . . perhaps another twenty minutes? The seven people present were an unexpectedly congenial group. While the wait remained tedious, we had some pleasant and amusing conversations and enjoyed each other's company while it lasted. Before the others came in and started talking, I had been passing the time by looking at some art magazines. It would have been fun to do a painting of my temporary friends and call it "Waiting Room"--a record of a moment in time with strangers revealed as unique and endearing human beings. When the doctor finally came around, it really did only take a few seconds for the spae age laser to ZAP my eye. And here I am, none the worse for wear, though experiencing some of what doctors like to call "discomfort."

In other news, Queenie and the Fireman have covid!! No wonder she felt wretched. I tested myself being going out, and I do not.

rolanni

What went before: Oof.

I wasn't feeling 100 percent when I got up this morning, late but not rested after a very mixed sleep. My knee hurt, my back hurt, my hands hurt, yada, yada, poor writer.

Anyhoots, I thought I'd shake it off, and went, slightly groggy, about my business, including going to the grocery store, and getting gas, and visiting the local pet store. Came home, put everything away, made something -- oh, veggie stir fry -- for lunch, and still felt lousy.

So, I picked up Rookie, who happened to be on my lap, and carried him with me to the bedroom, where we had a lovely and refreshing two hour hap.

I cannot praise Rookie's nursing skills enough. He immediately donned his professional aspect, walked around the top of the bed, laid down on my stomach to make sure I was flat to the mattress, then came 'round and snuggled into the side of my neck, purring until I went to sleep.

I feel less achy, and I've done the dishes and other chores, so the plan is to go to the needlework group, come home, serve up happy hour and my own supper, go to bed early, and see if I can't do some writing tomorrow.

How's Tuesday treating everybody?

Wednesday. Cloudy and going to be warm. Feeling much better today.

Breakfast was half an anything bagel with cream cheese and a side of grapes. Drinking my first cup of tea. Lunch will be something to do with chicken breasts.

The only hard thing on the schedule is a visit with the chiropractor in about an hour. Nothing after that until... Monday? And of course Tuesday is the Gala Celebration of Rookie's Gotcha Day.

In theory, therefore, I have four-and-a-half days to write. That sounds promising, even -- exciting. I have a couple scenes, as yet unconnected, that I want to sketch in, and also a continue on the narrative as it stands. This book could be more complicated. OTOH, this is more or less how Salvage Right went together, so the nut hasn't fallen far from the tree.

I've thinking off and on about the conversations I've had recently about colleagues who have resorted to reading genre romance in order to up the romance in their sf/f novel, or! to figure out What Women Want, in terms of a hero -- and why that makes me ... uneasy.

And, I think I've finally figured that out. The problem is that genre romance has its Conventions, as does sf/f. One of those is: The Relationship Drives The Plot. The characters may have other problems, other friends, and, yanno, A Life, but the primary problem that must be solved is how are the lovers going to (1) get together and (2) go forward. You don't, mind, have to SEE them go forward, but it has to be implicit in the HEA that commitment has been achieved and the partners will be going forward together.

A romance writer who is doing her job, therefore, makes certain that the Love Scenes (be they hot or be they sweet) move the characters toward their HEA. They are not only tied to the plot, they are drivers, and there's a reason they unfold as they do.

SF/F has a long-held Convention that states the Big Problem must be solved at all costs: love and life not being exempt. Love scenes still ought to happen For A Reason, as all scenes no matter the genre ought to happen For A Reason, but the romance and the resolution of the relationship are very, very seldom the primary problem, and the relationship is often used to make more poignant the victory. And because the pacing of sf/f novels and romance novels are so VERY different, the inclusion of Love scenes is also different.

(At some point, someone is going to ask me how they're different, and I'm going to tell them to go read a swath of Romance and another swath of SF and get back to me. So just be aware.)

Then there's the vexed question of What Women Want in a (Male) SF Hero. The answer to this has been answered many times in sf/f. I offer the Liaden books as one example, and because they're handy -- but there are many, many others.

In quick sum-up: Men who are strong, but emotionally available; who protect kittens, but who also realize that kittens have claws for a reason, and to deny them the opportunity to use their close is to damage the kitten's nature. Men who laugh, and who cry, and who aren't afraid to say, "I don't know." Men who are willing to learn, and to teach, and to play. Men who are people, I would say, though I've been accused of meaning when I do say that, "Men who act like women."

So. Long-Winded Auctorial Ramblings R Us.

What's everybody having for lunch today?

ismo

Alas, today the happy snoozing had to stop as we re-entered the real world. I spent a lot of time fussing about trying to figure out how to communicate about various administrative matters in the absence of the phone. I'm having some minor eye surgery tomorrow, and I was trying to find out if it had been pre-authorized. I also had to contact Madame's daughter or friends and find out how she's doing and if it would fit with the schedule to go and visit her tomorrow. Eventually all this was done, but it took much longer than it normally would have. Meanwhile, the Sparrowhawk was on his phone for an hour, talking to some guy in Budapest about how to fill out a shipping form for the phone. They were stymied by a final obstacle: the shipping company requires a billing address in Hungary. They had to give up, as the guy in Hungary had come to the end of his working day, but they hope to reconnect tomorrow and perhaps find a workaround.

We had a Zoom to catch up with Deb and the Prussian. I had thawed some chicken, but because of his Herculean labors over my errant phone, the Sparrowhawk hadn't had time to go to the grocery store. He made a quick dash there (editor's note: redundancy! Is there a slow dash? Well, I guess there could be. Particularly if you are old) and bought a pre-cooked chicken and an assortment of vegetables, and we just had that chicken, plus some rice and broccoli, and saved the other chicken for later. Life is so complicated with all these different forms of chicken circulating around. Then we went off to visit with our men's and women's groups. I get the impression he doesn't have as much fun with his people as I do with mine.

One thing they asked me was what was my favorite part of the trip. It was really hard to say, but certainly Passau was one of my favorites. It was the first place we saw. We were supposed to start in Regensburg, but the water levels in the Danube are too low, so we had to start in Passau--still in Bavaria. We had a lovely tour guide who included many personal details in her stories. Passau contains the first of three churches dedicated to St. Stephen that was saw on our voyage. It's a gorgeous Baroque church, a riot of gilded saints and angels framing heavenly frescos, all gold, white, and blue like an eternal summer. It also contains the world's biggest organ, or would have if part of the organ had not been in the process of repair. It was still a pretty darn big organ, as we learned when we took some of our spare time to attend an organ concert in the church. WOW! What a tremendous sound! I understood for the first time that the organ and the space that it inhabits are one, like the soul and the body, and that you really can't understand what organ music is until you've heard it sounding in the space that was made for it. Listening to a CD in your living room is a pale shadow of the reality. Of course, that didn't stop us from buying some CDs anyway. Our other favorite part of the tour of Passau was Bavarian sausages enclosed in a delightfully crisp roll, with honey mustard, eaten gazing at the Danube swiftly flowing by. A sight we attempted not to take in was the numerous German student types lolling in the grass by the river, mostly nude. We could have made a painting of it: Nudes, with Sausages. Include the church spires in the background, and it would have encapsulated the most significant aspects of the tour.

Oh, I nearly forgot one of my favorite moments: I was nearly mowed down by a bicyclist as we crossed the old stone bridge into town. I felt the wind of his passing, and as he whipped by, he shouted "OMA!" at me in an admonitory tone. In German, this means "GRANDMA!" I liked being addressed as if I were a German old lady instead of a foreigner.

rolanni

Thanks to Kristine Smith for the link that appears at the bottom of this dispatch, which was the first thing I saw when I opened my mail this morning.

The link is to a TED Talk about the importance of creativity, and that everyone creates -- even if it's just that nonsense song you sing to your cat, or deciding to try this instead of that in a recipe. Creation -- varying from the so-called "norm" -- is what makes us human, even more than laughter -- though that's important, too.

How can you tell that these things are important? You already know the answer to this -- Because Someone Is Trying to Take It Away From You.

How do you know your backlist isn't worthless? Because your publisher won't revert the rights. How do you know that having fun is important? Because people are shouting at you to Stop Being Frivolous. How do you know your despicable little bit of money is important? Because somebody is trying to rob you. How do you know that your voice is important? Because somebody is trying to shut you up.

Really, it's a Universal Test. If someone is trying to take something from you -- follow it back and find out why.

I gave a shout-out to the importance of fun in my Heinlein Acceptance Speech, but you can only do so much in four minutes. And I have, as I've mentioned here before, lived a life of Almost Unremitting Frivolity -- writing silly little scifi and fantasy stories; choosing a partner whose gift was making joy, and not so much with the money; indulging myself with cats, and stuffed animals, and music, and baking.

Making art is joy -- your body treats it that way. Make art for half an hour and your stress levels drop. People have been studying this -- obviously slackers who are looking for a way to justify their need to play, to make, to *have fun.*

I'll stop here and go get some breakfast while you listen to Amie McNee

ismo

And we are home! I had every intention of blogging via phone, but I forgot that logging in to Dreamwidth from my phone requires an authentication process that has so far proved to be literally impossible. I'm sure someone has figured this out, but I cannot and apparently many other people online cannot either. We arrived at our house about 6 last night, after riding in planes, trains, and automobiles (well, not railroad trains, but airport trams plus buses). Our longest flight was 9 hours from Munich to Chicago. It was a Lufthansa plane, so somewhat nicer and more comfortable than the one in which we flew from Newark to Munich on the outward voyage. But no airplane remains comfortable after nine hours. I was ready to cry by the time we landed. And ready to kiss the ground in Michigan by the time we landed there. We thought we might try to stay up until maybe 9 o'clock, but by 7:30 I was ready to pass out, and we collapsed oh so gratefully into our own bed and slept until about 2. Then we both woke up, went downstairs to drink some more big glasses of water WITH ICE, and went back to bed at 4 and slept until 8. And we also took a lovely nap later in the morning, when the Sparrowhawk came home from counting money and I was finished with a short conversation with Queenie. This sleep has been the awesome sauce. It is so smooth and chill, like the very best ice cream.

Our goal for today was to do just enough activity to make it possible to sleep some more. To this end, I have processed quite a lot of laundry, and helped the Sparrowhawk with meal prep. He has been to the store to get milk and coffee cream. And a coffee cake that mysteriously appeared after his shopping trip. I think he misses the fleshpots of Egypt, aka the pastries that were served on the boat. We also caught up with the reading for our online book club, and participated in the meeting this evening.

It is now about 3 am in Budapest, and twenty-four hours ago, we were in a taxi speeding through the pre-dawn twilight to the airport. It was then that I, in a dopy and sleep-deprived state of semi-consciousness, managed to gather up assorted bags, but left my phone behind in the taxi! The Sparrowhawk, and Tron, who served as a proxy while we were in flight, spent a lot of energy on phone calls and emails to the cruise company, begging their assistance in reclaiming the phone. The taxi driver disclaimed all knowledge, but Find My Phone showed us the path of the device, noodling idly around Budapest between the docks and the airport. Apparently the delights of central Europe had wooed my phone away from the path of righteousness and it was hanging out at the docks, in a striped pullover and rakish cap, with a cigarette dangling from its lips. At last, motivated by the Sparrowhawk's skillful application of hot and cold compresses in the form of flattery and admonition, the cruise company staff awakened itself and found the taxi and reclaimed my errant device! This is hardly short of miraculous! The Sparrowhawk is my hero! And now to bed again, to rest untroubled by worries about the fate of the prodigal phone.

rolanni

What went before: Monday. Sunny and already hot.

Breakfast was oatmeal and walnuts. Lunch will probably be a salad, because -- easy and cool.

I remembered something I wanted to add to the scene I wrote yesterday, and wound up writing a quick 300 words. Much better now. "Cory Robersun," indeed. Oh! And now I know why that's going to be important -- makes note. Yeah. That's good.

So! getting ready to go out to see the chiropractor, then back to do chores, eat lunch, and then out again to meet friends for a catch-up.

What's everybody else doing today?

Where are my mariner/weather radio experts?

I have here in my hand a CCrane Skywave AM/FM/WX/SW/Air radio. I want to listen to the weather radio, in particular the polling of the lighthouses off the Maine coast and the report from Mt. Washington.

I know that the weather bands range from 162.3625 to 162.5875 MHz. My little radio has seven possible channels under the WX setting: 1 (162.400 MHz); 2 (162.425 MHz); 3 (162.450 MHz); 4 (162.475 MHz); 5 (162.500 MHz); 6 (162.525 MHz); and 7 (162.550 MHz). One of these has in the past been the correct channel, but all I'm getting on any of them is static.

My assumption is that I'm doing something wrong, but such is the scope of my ignorance, that I don't know what it is.

Could someone please educate me? I'd really like to listen to the lighthouses.

Spanish Aunts.

So took a couple bags of fiction books including a number by some scifi writers named Sharon Lee and Steve Miller to the library for the book sale. No sense them cluttering up the basement until it's time to clear the house and they end up in the dumpster, after all.

Met my friends, and had a lovely catch-up.

Came home to find that Maximus Medicare has decided Martin's Point made no error in deciding well after the fact that the treatment they told me was covered, wasn't, and I am liable for the entire bill. No one seems to care that this does not particularly make me willing to trust Martin's Point ever again, and I suppose they have a point. If I need a medical intervention, I'm probably going to have it done and worry about being bankrupted by medical bills later.

Coon Cat Happy Hour has been served and devoured. Trooper is sitting on my lap. Tali is lounging on the edge of the desk. I have poured a glass of wine.

Tomorrow, I'll go to the grocery early, I think, then come back for a solid several hours of writing before it's time to go to the needlework meeting.

I think that's it for the day. I'm glad I got in a tiny bit of writing before the day started.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Here are the coon cats, ignoring me and my silly, leafy lunch

alierak posting in

dw_maintenance

We're having to rebuild the search server again (previously, previously). It will take a few days to reindex all the content.

Meanwhile search services should be running, but probably returning no results or incomplete results for most queries.

rolanni

37 Copper Script, K.J. Charles (e)
36 The Masqueraders, Georgette Heyer, narrated by Eleanor Yates (re-re-re-&c-read; 1st time audio)
35 Everyone Here Spoke Sign Language: Hereditary Deafness on Martha's Vineyard, Nora Ellen Groce (e)
34 Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Winifred Watson, narrated by Frances McDormand (re-re-re-&c-read; 1st time audio)
33 The Wings upon Her Back, Samantha Mills (e)
32 Death on the Green (Dublin Driver #2), Catie Murphy (e)
31 The Elusive Earl (Bad Heir Days #3), Grace Burrowes (e)
30 The Mysterious Marquess (Bad Heir Days #2), Grace Burrowes (e)
29 Who Will Remember (Sebastian St. Cyr #20), C.S. Harris (e)
28 The Teller of Small Fortunes, Julie Leong (e)
27 Check and Mate, Ali Hazelwood (e)
26 The Dangerous Duke (Bad Heir Days #1), Grace Burrowes (e)
25 Night's Master (Flat Earth #1) (re-read), Tanith Lee (e)
24 The Honey Pot Plot (Rocky Start #3), Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer (e)
23 Very Nice Funerals (Rocky Start #2), Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer (e)
22 The Orb of Cairado, Katherine Addison (e)
21 The Tomb of Dragons, (The Cemeteries of Amalo Trilogy, Book 3), Katherine Addison (e)
20 A Gentleman of Sinister Schemes (Lord Julian #8), Grace Burrowes (e)
19 The Thirteen Clocks (re-re-re-&c read), James Thurber (e)
18 A Gentleman Under the Mistletoe (Lord Julian #7), Grace Burrowes (e)
17 All Conditions Red (Murderbot Diaries #1) (re-re-re-&c read) (audio 1st time)
16 Destiny's Way (Doomed Earth #2), Jack Campbell (e)
15 The Sign of the Dragon, Mary Soon Lee
14 A Gentleman of Unreliable Honor (Lord Julian #6), Grace Burrowes (e)
13 Market Forces in Gretna Green (#7 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
12 Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent, Judi Dench with Brendan O'Hea (e)
11 Code Yellow in Gretna Green (#6 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
10 Seeing Red in Gretna Green (#5 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
9 House Party in Gretna Green (#4 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)*
8    Ties that Bond in Gretna Green (#3 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
7    Painting the Blues in Gretna Green (#2 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
6 Midlife in Gretna Green (#1 Midlife Recorder), Linzi Day (e)
5    The Goblin Emperor, Katherine Addison (Author), Kyle McCarley (Narrator) re-re-re&c-read (audio)
4    The House in the Cerulean Sea, TJ Klune (e)
3    A Gentleman in Search of a Wife (Lord Julian #5) Grace Burrowes (e)
2    A Gentleman in Pursuit of the Truth (Lord Julian #4) Grace Burrowes (e)
1    A Gentleman in Challenging Circumstances (Lord Julian #3) Grace Burrowes (e)

_____
*Note: The list has been corrected. I did not realize that the Gretna Green novella was part of the main path, rather than a pleasant discursion, and my numbering was off. All fixed now.

rolanni

What went before: SNIPPET!

"You are such a smart ass," she said, sadly.

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought that had been well-established."

"Some days, it just shines brighter," Miri said.

And back to work we go.

We're at an awkward hour; the hour wherein Google assures me that there is No Chance of Rain until Thursday, and yet -- that does appear to be water falling out of the sky. It is also the hour wherein I have finished a scene, which adds, in addition to action! adventure! and pathos! to the WIP, +/-1,295 words, for a Grand Total of 46,435. More or less.

It's early in the day yet, but I've made the Conservative Decision to not try to plunge into the next scene, but to gently wind down the day, and the weekend, here. I am pleased with progress made these last couple days. I have a kind of Swiss cheese day tomorrow, so likely there won't be much writing done, but Tuesday is free until it's time to go to Group Sewing, and the rest of the week is free, except for brief visits to the chiropractor. So, it looks good for more writing getting done in a reasonable manner.

There had been an appeal -- somewhere (here are the wages of mirroring my posts everywhere) -- to describe what goes on at Coon Cat Happy Hour. These things of course are confidential, but you look like a trustworthy bunch.

Coon Cat Happy Hour begins about an hour before 7 pm with Trooper announcing that his throat has been cut and this dire wound can only be healed through a proper application of gooshy food to a plate, right NEOW!

At 7, I arise, open a can of gooshy food, split it four ways, arranging each portion artistically on its own china plate. I serve the ladies first, as Miss Manners would have me to do; and then the gentlemen. The ladies tend to share their portions; the gentlemen view imbibing as a competition, to see who can finish his plate first, then horn in on the ladies. The ladies have lately been managing to eat their portions, daintily and without fuss, before the Huns descend from the mountains.

After the dishes are shining clean, I pick them up and put them in the dishwasher.

I then pour myself a glass of wine and join the coon cats in their after-Happy-Hour-Club on the couch, where we read or watch an episode of (lately) Dr. Who until it's time for me to get my evening meal together.

And on that note -- everybody stay safe.

I'll check in tomorrow.

Napping happened this afternoon, and I have proof!

rolanni

So, I had a good day. I can tell you right now that I'm not going to break 50,000 words this weekend. After sorting through my notes and writing a couple of short scenes, the WIP stands at +/-45,140 words. Tomorrow, I believe, will be a day like unto this one.

Outside my windows, the weather was cool and rainy, and briefly thunderstormy. Tomorrow, we'll see temps start to climb again, settling in for the rest of the week around the mid-80sF, and giving the Fourth of July Celebrants a lovely, warm, sunny weekend.

I should say that lunch was so-called "Greek chicken and lemon soup" from the co-op, and it was Good, along with a salad, and a third of the mini-brie (also from the co-op), and bread. I have enough left over for tomorrow's lunch, too, should I wish to go in that direction.

Coon Cat Happy Hour is coming right up, after which I do believe I'll pour myself a glass of wine and watch an episode of Dr. Who.

For those interested, it looks like the cross-posting of my daily rambles is, if not a hit, then at least enjoyable to the majority, so I'll continue doing that for as long as FB makes it easy for me.

For fun during a break, I looked at houses for sale in Northport/Belfast/Lincolnville, which also got me Isleboro, because Geography. Hah, I say. And again, I say -- HAH.

So! What did y'all do today?

rolanni

So I managed to do most of the mundane tasks that had piled up on my desk. I haven't, for instance, spoken to Fidium about maybe going with a less-expensive option, now that there's only one Power User on-site, because -- has Fidium's number been hijacked by some scam offering people who call in a free!Free!FREE! wearable call button? Cause that's all I get when I call them -- and what I really want is a sales rep.

I also did not arrange for an extended warranty for the LG washer and dryer because the site is scrod. I have until October, so maybe I'll try again sometime later.

I had a bad few moments when I realized that I'm on the last pack of checks that has Steve's name and mine name on them. I really don't want to have checks that just say "Sharon Lee," not because I think Steve's going to be writing checks anytime soon, but because I actually feel safer with his name on the checks. I guess I'll go over to Checks Unlimited and see if they still have me on-file. The bank clearly doesn't care; they've been cashing the checks with no complaint.

I may not be around much tomorrow or Sunday, because Plans to Write.

And on that note -- everybody stay safe. I'll check in as can.

Here's another picture from Saturday Cove to tide you over (see what I did there?)

rolanni

What went before: Well, as a guy named Steve Miller once said to me, "Lady, we sure can waste some time."

And he wasn't wrong.

As planned, I betook myself to the Searsport side of Belfast and picked up puffin and marble. Returning to Belfast, I shopped at the co-op, including picking up a tuna fish sandwich on whole grain bread, which I took down to the public boat landing and had a picnic.

I wrestled with the question of going down to Ducktrap, and, as reported earlier, I lost. I count it a win that I didn't continue down the coast. I credit the fact that I had food in the cooler for that (smol) bit of common sense.

After I had refreshed myself at Lincolnville Beach (which is in the Village of Ducktrap; it's possible that this may not be something Universally Known), I turned back to Belfast, taking only a VERY minor detour through Saturday Cove and Bayside, picked up Route 1 again, returned to Belfast, and came home via Route 3 until I got in the vicinity of the Old Neighborhood, where I Deviated from the Route to take a couple corner-cutting back roads that I haven't been on for years, by reason of no longer living in the Old Neighborhood, and so to home, where I put away my spoils, had a fourth of what I'm told is a single serving of Shaw's carrot cake with a smear of ice cream as a coming home present, and now? I Address The Internets.

By the time I put the house back together -- which I didn't do before I left, and which includes putting the sheets back on the bed -- it'll be Coon Cat Happy Hour, so!

I'm taking the rest of the day off.

So...Friday? Friday. Sunny and cool. And that's fine.

Rook and Tali are taking turns knocking each other over and practicing their T. Rex yells. I'm not sure T. Rex was that high on the scale, but who knows, really?

Breakfast was an anything bagel from yesterday's foraging at the co-op, with cream cheese and a side of cherries. Trooper is expressing his disappointment with management, and Firefly is sleeping on the box on my desk.

This morning, I have an appointment with the chiropractor -- who gave me an exercise to do because my shoulders are frozen. Does anybody here know "Wall Angels?" Ow. By which I mean to say, OW. Also, it's humiliating not to be able to get my arms over my head. Getting old sucks.

My Grand Plan for the day is to clear the pile of RL stuff on my desk, and finish up a couple of other chores, including the Grand Changing Out of the Cat Boxes and attendant sweeping up of the basement, then go internet-lite tomorrow and Sunday to try to get some work done. I'd like to break +/-50,000 words, so we'll put that as a Goal.

I also need to figure out a better schedule; the one I'm sorta keeping to was the schedule in force when Steve died, and it worked well for the necessities of the house at that time. I'm feeling like I'm scrambling to keep to outline, so to speak, which creates stress, which creates more work for the cats. And NOBODY wants the cats to work more than they already do, poor creatures.

It's time to give Trooper his morning gooshy food, and see if I can take care of one or two of these silly pieces of paper on my desk before it's time to go out.

How's everybody else doing? Keeping to the schedule?

There were a few pictures from yesterday. They may be viewed here

rolanni

What went before: Coon Cat Happy Hour fast approaches. I wrote about 500 new words today, total WIP now +/-44,230.

I need to print something out so I can take it with me back to Steve's room to work on while Ashley's here. After she finishes, I'll head out to Belfast to pick up my glass, and to visit the co-op. It is still promised to be significantly cooler tomorrow, so, yanno -- yay.

So, some of you may know there's a fannish word: "gafiate," off of another fannish word: "gafia." Gafia means "Getting Away From It All," and initially "it all" was the Real World and Mundane life. Gafiate is the verb form. After awhile -- before I stumbled into fandom, actually -- the meaning flipped and this was a possible exchange between two fans at a con: "What happened to X? I haven't seen them in a while." "Oh, they gafiated." -- which is to say, "it all" was then known to be fandom and the business of fans.

The above reflection is brought to you by my recent introduction to "eremition" -- to retire from the world. Off of "eremite," a recluse or hermit.

You're welcome.

Everybody stay safe; I'll check in tomorrow.

Thursday. Sunny, and said to be less ambitious in terms of breaking record temperatures.

The house is picked up in anticipation of Ashley. While she's here, I'll get myself around to the heat pumps and clean the filters. That way, if I fall and break my head, there will be someone here to call 911.

After Ashley has left me, I'll be going to Belfast to retrieve my glass, do some shopping at the co-op (co-op onions are the best!), and wend my way home. I'll try not to go down to Ducktrap, but -- no promises.

That's it for me.

What've you got?

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Reading

LongDays of Zenith

All my friends know the low rider

Glorious Fourth of Zenith

Friday Afternoon

BlueJays of Zenith

Books, and brushes, and dumplings, oh my!

Dumplings for Lunch

SaffronCod of Zenith

Under-caffeinated writer rambles

Copepod of Zenith

I Dare

Katydid of Zenith

The day in review

Rebuilding journal search again

Books read in 2025

Winding down the weekend

Thunderstormin'

Internet Lite

Thursday, with puffin and marble

Word forms

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January 2023

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