Eagles Over the Kennebec

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.

#

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:

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!

What went before: So, I wrote some new words today, which was Such a Relief, after feeling like I've been mired in quicksand for the last two weeks. The WIP entire now stands at +/-42,700.

I wasted some time this afternoon on a panic attack when I realized (as I do from time to time) that I'm going to be old and broke, and sick and alone, and I don't have anything worthwhile to $ell, and &c &c.

I mean, Steve and I knew we were living a grasshopper existence, which is, take note, a much more amusing pose when you're young and strong. And, really, I thought that the end part would be too quick to be scary -- summer one day, snowstorm the next, quick-frozen grasshopper, so sad.

Well.

Tomorrow, I have an appointment with the chiropractor, mid-morning, and the rest of the day to work.

Tali and Rook are at the moment having a game of tag. I need to water the roses, and -- I do believe I'll have a glass, or two, of wine.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Monday. Sunny and already hot.

Breakfast was the last of the lettuce, the last of the tomato, the last of the cottage cheese, and a piece of toast. Lunch will be the leftover pork chop and beans.

I detect a theme.

Leaving in a few to see the chiropractor. I'll hit the post office and the grocery before I come home.

We here in Central Maine are still Awaiting tomorrow's arrival of Extreme Heat. The excursion to the hot shop in Belfast is being reconsidered, with the hope that we can move it to another, somewhat cooler, day later in the week.

The following is for those who wonder how writers make money, sparked by a mention in comments regarding a "living wage."

It ought to surprise no one to learn that writers make money by writing. How much money they make and if they receive what they are owed are variables, the discussion of which is outside of the purview of this paper.

The other thing to remember is that there is a long and impecunious apprentice period for most writers (cue joke: Q: Oh! You're a writer? Have you sold anything? A: Well, so far, I've sold my sewing machine, my kayak, and my car.). Most of us have day-jobs, though (I speak for myself) not the demanding sorts of day-jobs that may come with retirement benefits, because those sorts of jobs impinge on one's writing time. Even those of us who "make it," for some definition thereof, do so later in life, and if we don't necessarily have college loans to pay off, we have other debt incurred while we learned our craft.

So!

The greater percentage of writers make LESS -- even FAR LESS -- than a "living wage" from their writing.

Those who do make a "living wage" are equal parts lucky and too stubborn to die -- Lee-and-Miller stand in this category as an example, and perhaps a warning.

Very few achieve Literary Superstar, which is of course the standard to which all writers are held because societies that measure success in terms of money have no soul.

To continue.

Irregardless of the variables mentioned above, when writers stop writing, they stop getting paid. This is a calamity, because, even those of us who managed to achieve that "living wage" do not typically have Large Sums of Money invested against sickness or old age. They may have a few months' living expenses squirreled away. Maybe.

Now, yes, some of us -- Lee-and-Miller are twice fortunate -- have significant extra fan support in the style of Patreon, Ko-fi, and so on. Those things, like all donation systems -- such as the local food bank, or Meals-on-Wheels -- depend on the economic health of the donor pool. When the economy tanks, people very wisely cut their donations, in the interest of feeding themselves and their families.

Speaking, again, for myself: I have three books under contract -- again, and that's three times fortunate -- and even should stop writing after I turn in the last, cash should continue to flow, in lessening rivulets, for a couple years. And I can of course continue to write and publish independently. Assuming that I keep my health and my head.

Anyhow! This has gotten long, and I need to get on the road.

How's everybody doing today?

Some time later: Back from errands, which also included putting gas in the car. I couldn't figure out why I needed gas, then I remembered that I'd driven back and forth to Bath last Monday.

It's shaping up to be a nasty ol' day out there. The City of Waterville has hit the citizen phone tree to remind us that the Cooling Center on Front Street will be open tomorrow from 10 to 6.

I bought a strawberry shortcake cup at the grocery store and ate it before lunch, in true grasshopper fashion. I tried to share my whipped cream with the overlords -- Rookie was enthusiastic, Firefly was curious, Tali thought I was Up To Something, and Trooper had just finished his chicken smoothie and was too full for dessert.

I will be updating the blog, performing my duty to the cats, and then seeing about lunch before sitting down with the WIP.

Today's blog post title brought to you by The Cars, "Magic"

Oh.  I was late getting into work today, and Supervisor Firefly noticed.

What went before ONE: So, Trooper's home, after having had many sorts of tests. Possibly there's some very tiny bit of fluid in front of his heart. Maybe? Lungs clear; bloodwork magnificent; not dehydrated; not noticeably anxious at the vet's; just quietly grumpy. He feasted on chicken baby food while he was there, and was given a long-term steroid shot (since I can't get him to take prednisone from the plunger -- he's (still) big and strong and doesn't care who he hurts, while management is down the second pair of hands that used to make this a non-issue).

The soft diagnosis is that he's just sort of melting away from old cat to no cat. Possibly, we have some dementia, but, again, not acute. The steroid shot is because I observed him to be crying less when he was taking the prednisone, and it's not impossible that he actually has some joint pain, which is making him fretful and weepy, given his age.

So, that's the Trooper Health Update. I'll be taking on some baby food when I'm out tomorrow.

What went before TWO: I got some work done today, but not as much as I wanted. However, I am not working late into the night, but knocking off now, as I am of the opinion that having a more or less regular schedule is, ahem, beneficial.

I will have from tomorrow afternoon through Monday afternoon to work, which is a lovely large wodge of time.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Err -- what?

Hmm. Facebook may have made an improvement that actually, yanno, Improves Something. They've inserted a step between Write and Post, which doesn't seem convenient, but it looks like it will allow me to share, say, my Morning Check-Ins with All the Liaden Groups, which might be beneficial.

I'll explore that further tomorrow, too.

G'nite.

#

Friday. Sunny and already as warm as it's supposed to get on the day, with an Bonus! high wind advisory.

Rookie got locked in the closet this morning. I had no idea he had even been in the room when I opened the door to get my shoes.

Breakfast was cream cheese on rice cakes, with a side of cherries. Kettle's on for second cup of tea. Lunch may be a salad. Or it may be fish and a side salad. Something like that.

Mid-morning appointment with the chiropractor, and a stop at the grocery before I get home to take on baby food for Grandpa Trooper.

I've been trying to figure out a whale/puffin watch expedition, which is of course an ocean voyage. This means you need to leave from the coast, about 50 miles ThatAWay from the Cat Farm. There's a very well-regarded tour service -- Cap'n Fish by name -- based in Boothbay -- which is your standard "about an hour" by car.

Cap'n Fish has an Extremely Tempting combined puffin/whale cruise which leaves at 1 in the afternoon and is +/- 4 hours on the water, which means we're docking 5/5:30. It is summer and the light's with me, so now I need to think about stamina (and my budget; let's not forget that). Route 27 is a pretty easy drive, but it'll be, at the earliest, July and God She knows what the Summer People will be getting up to. Assuming we have any Summer People, of course.

Well. Something to noodle on in-between story bits.

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to next Tuesday. I have a date with visiting family to make glass in Belfast in the morning, when it is predicted to be -- technical term -- Stupid Hot. I'm hoping for a mediation of weather patterns over the weekend, but the 'beans seem very certain of themselves on this one.

Other than All of That, I am planning a Writing Weekend, and hoping to move the book along in a forwarder direction.

What are your plans for the weekend?

Cat census:

Tuesday. Sunny, light breeze, coolish.

Waiting for the painter, who will be doing what he can in terms of painting trim and replacing rotten boards on the garage. First mug of tea is brewing. Will shortly be toasting an English muffin in preparation for a pb&j.

I. Had. So Much. Fun yesterday, of which I will speak in more detail after breakfast.

Today, I need to call the vet on Trooper's behalf. I'm hoping this is not the Last Visit, but I'm . . . I don't know. deep breath

I also have an appointment with the chiropractor, possibly a stop at the homeless shelter (turns out they do need pillows), and this evening is sewing at the library.

What's everybody doing today?

And the vet is closed. Or, somebody forgot to take the machine off the phone.

Will call back in an hour.

In the meantime, the painter is here, but the wood is not.

Let's see . . . yesterday.

Watercolor class was a one-off presented by the events coordinator of Waterville Creates, who is herself a talented watercolorist. She was there, not to teach, but to encourage play, and also to sell the Schupf Center programs, including the Thursday Art Making (which has another name that escapes me at the moment), which is free to everyone.

Since my life has of course been unremittingly frivolous, I didn't feel that the call to play was necessary on my part, and I would have welcomed more structure. However, viewing the results produced by the majority of my classmates (this was a VERY well-attended session), instruction would possibly have been superfluous.

So, I played with my colors and the water, and got frustrated, as I always do with art, because I can't make things round, dammit -- what I want to do is reach into the paper and push this bit back, and pull this other bit forward, but the trick of achieving dimensionality with flat materials continues to elude me.

Maybe I should look at Youtube. God She knows I have colored pencils -- I'm not particularly wedded to watercolor as a medium, though it is forgiving, in its way; I quite liked the way the spiky purple flowers came out.

Anyway, I managed to ride out the frustration and dropped into -- "I Wonder What Happens if I do This" land -- and mostly had a goodish time, with what results you may see below.

After class, I came home, provisioned the car, chatted with the next door neighbor, who has been away for some time, and got on the road to Bath.

 #

I arrived in Bath around, eh, twelve-thirty-ish? Drove to Front Street, parked in the lot, and ate my chicken nugget sandwich in a pocket park, then went for a walk.

I wish to report that, in Bath, Maine, there is a large library and FIVE bookstores on Front Street, alone. There was also a large Maine Craft store, where I had a lovely chat with the proprietor, and a Reny's where I got my Reny's Passport (remember that?) stamped, and joined a very odd conversation.

A man had just concluded a sale when I got the counter and was quizzing the two cashiers about the amenities of Bath, which -- I'm guessing the accent was Jersey, and apparently he was looking to relocate, and you could tell he was struggling with idea of Bath as a, um, city. He phrased it more circumspectly than this, but, basically, he wanted to know where the stuff was. (From my perspective, there's plenty of stuff in Bath downtown, plus extensive suburbs, but, no, it's not Baltimore (punch line: But what is?)

He said "they'd" been to Waterboro the day before, and there wasn't much there, and produced a quiz about Phippsburg, which the cashiers admitted was nothing there though the fort and Popham Beach were worth seeing. He asked me where I was from, and I admitted to Waterville, throwing in the three colleges for a tease. He was briefly interested until I also admitted it wasn't on the water, then turned back to the cashiers with the notion that if he was looking for the stuff, he'd probably be looking to Portland, then? They shared A Look, then one glanced back at him, and allowed, very seriously, as how that was probably so.

I took my package and left, walked up to the top of the street, avoiding the temptations of both ice cream and the cooking store (something to do on another trip!), walked back down the street, got in my car and headed for the Maine Maritime Museum.

Interlude: Reached the vet, left a message for Trooper's doctor.

From yesterday's mail -- the new property valuation, from which I learn that this house has nearly doubled in "value" since we moved here in 2018. Which, of course, means that everything else has at least doubled in value, so moving is Not An Option. Not that I was looking to move, but it's sort of expected that a Person of My Age and Condition will be Downsizing, and -- nah.

I had never before been to the Maine Maritime Museum; I expect I will go back. It's sited on the land that used to be occupied by the Percy and Small Shipyard.

(I am reminded here of the fellow at Reny's and his inquiry after the stuff; Maine used to be full of stuff; and Phippsburg, where there's "nothing much" but the beach and the fort, used to be a shipbuilding mecca, as well as an ice harvesting center -- Kennebec River Ice was popular in Europe. Bath was an international seaport. This was a repeating theme of the day, including on the tour, where we were reminded of history, along with wildlife, sea, and lighthouse lore.)

There is a museum building, but I opted to spend the time before my boat left touring the grounds and some of the outbuildings, which is well worth the time. I particularly liked the display of lobster floats, which reminded me (I think I had known this at one point), that each fisherman had a distinctive float attached to their traps (yes, exactly like brands on cattle), so if you were filching lobster, you knew who you were stealing from.

Mostly, though, I just enjoyed being outside. It was a glorious day -- warm, but not too warm, breezy on the land, but not windy. I chatted with a couple of other tourists, and when the time came, I was first on the boat, and climbed topside.

(Metaphysical notation; feel free to skip. I hate ladders. I can go up ladders, but not down. Prudence therefore dictated that I stay on the lower level and watch the river go by from behind windows.

(But I didn't wanna. And as I was sitting on the dock, waiting for boarding, I had been weighing Prudence against Adventure, and during that conversation with myself, I heard Steve say, very clearly, and as he had done on numerous previous occasions, "I'll do down first, and you just follow me; it'll be fine." He had never let me down before, and there was no reason to think he would let me down this time -- and nor did he -- so, top deck. Best Choice Ever.)

I had noticed, when I was sitting on the dock that it was, er, cooler by the water, so I'd put on my Bug Light sweatshirt (which is winter-weight) -- and that was a good call.

I sat on the backest bench, portside, and that was also a good call, as I could turn around and see the whole of Merrymeeting Bay behind us as we progressed.

We had a full boat -- 50 passengers. On the upper deck, we were all grownups; I can't speak to the passengers below. (The tour before mine did have at least one very small boy, who had a screaming tantrum when mom told him they were leaving now -- speaking to the point made by someone that taking a small child on a river tour would be silly.)

Just as we got underway, a huge fish broke water -- I was apparently the only one who saw it, and I had no idea. "Salmon?", I thought (no fisherman, here), but our guide later told us that sturgeon leap, and if we saw a big silver fish come out of the water, that was a sturgeon.

I can't begin to do justice to the experience. The wind had come up, so it was ... a little ... choppy. I was not uncomfortable, and my fellow top-siders seemed comfortable, as well. We saw Doubling Point; the Kennebec Range Lights, Squirrel Point Light, Pond Island, and (from a distance, the only ocean light) Sequin Light. We saw seals, bald eagle, cormorants, heron, house and woods, and passing towns. It was worth far more than I paid for the experience, and yes, I will be doing it again.

Ten stars out of Five. Highly recommended.

Wrapping up: I can't remember the last time I spent a day almost completely outside. Must do that more often.

Also, one of the reasons I took this particular (2 hour) tour was to try to get a handle on if I could, maybe, tolerate (physically tolerate; bench seating is not kind to bad backs) a whale/puffin watch, which I've been wanting to do forever, and no time like the present. My back does hurt a little today, and I'll talk with the chiropractor when I see him this afternoon.

I talked to a lot of people yesterday; just casual conversations. Usually, I didn't talk to people -- Steve did. See metaphysical note, above.

Yes, I did take millions of pictures, and I'll post . . . a few, as time allows.  Here's a couple:  Doubling Point Light and Seals at Rest: 

Here ends my tale of yesterday's adventures.

Addendum: Information about the Kennebec Estuary, and the six rivers that run together to the sea.

What went before ONE: So, Monday will a Full Writer's Day Off, with watercoloring in the morning and lighthouse touring in the mid-afternoon.

Adventures R Me

What went before TWO: My sister-in-law successfully defended her dissertation. Thanks for all the good energy on Scholar Net!

What went before THREE: So a nice young man with an arm full of glossy 8x10 books rang the doorbell. He was part of a "group of young people who were looking to make a difference," he told me. His name was perhaps Jarrett -- my ears weren't fast enough and he was soft-voiced.

He handed me two books -- one about "health" and one about "weathering storms." I flipped open the one about storms, and got a page dripping with meticulously notated bible verses. The young man told me that this particular volume had helped him through depression a couple years ago.

I handed the books back.

Oh, he said, you're not interested in the books. But maybe you'll come to our Health Expo in Fairfield in a couple weeks, and he handed me a half-sheet flyer. I took the flyer, because easier than not, smiled, and wished him a good day.

He asked if we could pray together.

I told him no, smiled, and closed the door.

So! The flyer!

A New Start to your health, it says; HEALTH AND WELLNESS EXPO. There are watermark crosses on the paper -- medical/Red Cross looking crosses. And over by itself on the right: Promoting physical, mental, emotional, & spiritual wellbeing.

The flyer lists the free activities on offer at the Expo, and states that its being sponsored by Maine Health & Wellness (tagline: Serving your needs. Right where you are.)

Instead of a website, there's an email address: [email protected]

. . . and my goodness aren't we being sneaky, seeking-to-do-good-young-people! It sounds just like it's some sort of Actual State Agency, even to the DOTmaine in the email address.

Maybe I should have offered to trade books.

What went before FOUR: Knocking off for the day. Yeah, yeah -- I'm late. The coon cats had happy hour, and I should get something to eat.

The WIP, still lacking a title, currently weighs in at +/-40,277 words, which is to say, we didn't lose many words after all.

Ashley's due in tomorrow, but will be arriving later than usual, so I don't have to get up early, which, given that I'm only now seeking my supper and a glass of wine, a good thing.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Um. Thursday. Sunny, warm.

Slept late with intermittent assistance from Trooper, Firefly, and Rook.

Breakfast was strawberry-and-lingonberry skyr; finishing up my tea now. Lunch will be this afternoon.

After I finish my tea, I'll pick up the house for Ashley's arrival, then perform my duty to the cats (and the dehumidifier), then start shifting chapters around.

Yes, yes. Too exciting by half.

For excitement -- I got a catalog in the mail from Artful Home. In it were some pretty stemless wine glasses, so I went onto the website to find out how big they were. Sigh. I gotta tell y'all some folks out there are serious about their wine. Nobody needs a 10 ounce wine glass. Well, OK. I don't need a 10 ounce wine glass. So! I already saved money this morning.

The windows are open in my office, and I? should really gather up the cat blankets and give them a nice wash.

What're you doing today?

What went before ONE: Well, that was more excitement than I wanted from lunch.

First, I spilled almost an entire box of elbow macaroni over the kitchen floor -- I always try to catch things. Often I do catch them. Even more often, the result is worse than if I had just let whatever it is fall.

Rook came rushing to the scene of the catastrophe, looked at the mess, looked up me ("Mom. What the Hell?"), then assisted in clean-up by finding the macaronis that had taken cover under the cabinets, and smacking at least one to its Forever Home under the stove.

Eventually, I got back to the cooking part of the process, and it was lunch, and I even have leftovers for lunch-in-future.

Rook's been practicing taking selfies:

What went before TWO: Well. A Compleat Change of Plan.

I did get some writing done, but after lunch, I noticed that my back hurt, and my hips hurt, and my knees hurt, and -- you get the picture, I'm sure. So! I took a couple aspirin (I'm holding on to the High Test until I'm sure I have a doctor who can prescribe more, OR until aspirin doesn't do the trick), and then I -- wait for it -- took a nap.

Woke up somewhat less achy, approached the keyboard, and remembered that today's shopping trip to the freezer had Revealed An Error.

I was out of blueberry muffins.

Clearly, that situation could not stand, and a batch of blueberry muffins is finishing up baking as I type this.

Next, I need to go back down to the basement to see if I still have blueberries. Which tangentially reminds me that I ought to be making a grocery list. (EDITED TO ADD: I have blueberries.)

So! Minor amounts of writing completed today.

Here, have a snippet: "No, Bechimo had accepted Theo Waitley as captain, and there was nothing that could induce one of Korval, be she kin or be she clan, to relinquish a ship that was in her hand. She had been adamantine, had Captain Waitley, and admitted no error – which had only made him more determined to reft the ship from her."

Oh.  The muffins are out:

Monday. Glary, damp and coolish. Windows are open in my office.

Breakfast was . . . different from planned, due to the fact that the cottage cheese appeared to have Mystery Inclusions. So! instead of half a blueberry muffin with a side of cottage cheese, I had half a blueberry muffin with cream cheese. Lunch is likely be a sweet potato, since I'm not feeling All That ambitious.

I hereby report an Instance of the Lee-Miller Sloppy Luck. I had cut two roses off the new bush two days ago, and put them in a bud vase on the dining room table, where they remained, undisturbed and cheery, until!

. . .I'm guessing last night. Maybe early this morning. A Person Unknown -- *cough* Tali *cough* -- knocked the bud vase over onto a pile consisting of a SanDisk mp3 player attached to a pair of headphones, which was sitting on the case (closed) of another pair of headphones, which was next to a large book.

Reader, most of the water was still in the vase. The mp3 player was slightly damp, but is working. Both sets of headphones are untouched, as is the book. The tablecloth was a little damp, but it needed to be changed, anyway.

I did not sleep well last night, and my back is still bothering me. It occurs to me that the chiropractor was not attached to the hospital that left, so perhaps a phone call to see if I still have an In there is in order.  (EDITED TO ADD:  I still have an In, and better yet?  An appointment for this afternoon.)

Otherwise, today is a writing day. No, really. I mean it.

Looking forward to the rest of the week, tomorrow evening is sewing, after which I'll go to the grocery. Wednesday, I am to reside in a State of Anticipation of the arrival of the Home Visit Nurse, sometime between 8am and noon. Thursday morning Ashley will arrive, and Friday morning, I get a haircut.

I should sometime soon see what's to do in Bath, so I can have some fun and find out where my doctor's new practice is. Maybe there's a Reny's.

That's the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What's happening with you?

Pics from yesterday:

What went before ONE: I have achieved and sited roses. The tiny one is the baby from the front garden. The yellow one is True Kindness, which is a hybrid tea rose, said to be hardy, disease resistant and heat tolerant.

If this works out, I'll try an heirloom rose.

I have also registered for the watercolor class and conquered the rest of my errands, save the bank, which is a Phone Call.

What went before TWO: So! I have a couple more things to do to catch up with Real Life, but it looks like I'll be going back to work on Friday. Yeah, Friday; and I'll probably be working all weekend, too, because my boss is a witch, man.

Tomorrow will be a Hide from the Heat day, because 90F/32C, and sunny. Friday will be a little cooler and cloudy, and then Saturday it will be SIGnificantly cooler, with rain. So, it's not like I'll be missing a Great Weekend on anything.

I have taken the Executive Decision to put twinkle lights up in the living room. Those should arrive tomorrow, and will be something to do In-Between.

Rookie very responsibly made his annual vet appointment for July. I'm so proud of him. Trooper is calling for Happy Hour, but he still has a little while to wait.
. . . and that's the evening report.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

#

Thursday. Sunny and already warm enough by my reckoning. The weatherbeans are calling for Warmer, and a thunderstorm or two.

I had hoped that the Corning trip would serve as a buffer against meltdowns, as I came home from a con without Steve, and, indeed, emotions have taken their time catching up. Unfortunately, this morning it all kind of hit like a dump truck. Firefly just brought me her orange chew-and-chase thing, which is of course a Great Comfort.

Today, I'll be doing normal quiet things -- hanging away the laundry, making a pot of rice, doing one's duty to the cats. I have two phone calls to make, and that will be my limit on Real World Business today.

There had been a call for me to post the text of my speech, so it can be compared to what I actually said. I'll try to get that done -- just a cut 'n paste.

The coon cats have put their plans for the day into motion. What're your plans?

Today's blog title brought to you by Billy Joel: "Allentown"

What went before:  So, a low-key day. I did some This, some That, read, put the finished sampler into the embroidery book, ironed some con clothes. I'm still trying to decide if I'll wear black-and-grey, or black-and-maroon for Opening Ceremonies, a decision I can put off for a few days yet, as both outfits will be coming with me.

For those who are coming to BaltiCon -- I have Interesting News. We have a possible location for the Stuffed Animal Tea, but! We don't have a time or day. So, at this point, it's kind of a Heisenberg Tea. More news will be forthcoming, possibly on Wednesday. As soon as I know something firm (bearing in mind that I will be spending a large amount of Wednesday and Thursday driving), I'll let y'all know.

We're getting up toward ASL time, and I still need to close the windows.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

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Friday. Dim and damp.

Letters dispatched. Finished reading The Mysterious Marquess, and have pulled The Elusive Earl up for tonight's reading, unless it turns out to be a Dr. Who night. Zoom call upcoming, and a couple other such things as people are suddenly realizing that I'm going to be away. Laundry needs to be sorted, laptop charged and systems brought up to date

I have more this 'n that to do, including puzzling out some bits for the book after the current WIP, which may not be Jethri after all, if I'm gonna do mumblemumble with the current WIP, which I think may be Forced, given that I need to at least produce a soft landing, if not a Hard Wrap Up, and there are only three books remaining under contract (Current WIP, WIP After, Jethri Big Finish). And now you know why writers stare out of windows.

I'm slowly remembering the convention traditions -- pins, con clothes, tote bag, pens, ribbons, badge jewelry... For those who are coming to the con, I will have with me some "I Met Steve Miller" ribbons, so that those present who had, in fact, met Steve Miller may acknowledge that connection.

The cats are being very snuggly and maybe even a little clingy, which I'm guessing the memo I sent out has hit. If the teleporter worked, I'd bring them with me, but the geezinfluke is still on backorder.

I think that's most of what's going on here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How's everybody doing today?

Today's blog post title courtesy of Mr. Bruce Springsteen, "4th of July, Asbury Park"

After breakfast cat census:

Convention Business: The BaltiCon Program is now live. Word is that it's still being tweaked. I was, for instance, double booked for Saturday evening, and have been moved from the panel discussion of how to make your characters relatable. Here's the link. Note that you can search the schedule by day, and by person, and you can create your own list of things to do and see.

#

What went before: So, that's 636 new words on the day, along with some retrofitting of old words. The WIP Entire now weighs in at +/-39,597 words.
For a book that has quite a large cast of characters, Salvage Right is amazingly tight, and I have to keep going back and refreshing myself on what happened when and to whom, as well as what was left over.

Also, prep for BaltiCon, including the travel details, and speeches, and reservations at Corning -- not to mention the stupidity with the insurance company and! something else that landed on my desk today -- is all kind of borking my concentration on the story. Well. Maybe I'll have time to write at the con.

Yeah, who am I kidding?

The rain has stopped and the wind has come up. Word is that tomorrow will be sunny and beautiful.

We'll see, she said darkly.

In the meantime, everybody stay safe.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Sunday In Two Parts

ONE
Oh, my gods and goddesses.

Rookie fell out of the bathroom window.

SPOILER: He's OK; I'm -- a little stressed, and so very VERY pleased that he didn't run away, but just sat in the garden under the window and YELLED. Firefly and Tali came to get me, both looking very worried, and I had heard a cat calling, but thought it was Trooper singing the song of his people downstairs, as is his habit.

But Trooper was on the copilot's chair. I ran to the bathroom; the screen was awry and I could hear a cat YELLING. I closed the bathroom door, ran outside -- and there was Rook, staring up at the window and YELLING. I called him and he came to me, just like the spoiled kid he is, and I picked him up and told him how brave and smart he was, and brought him back into the house, where we both collapsed onto the couch. He's only just gotten up to grab a snack.

I pushed the screen all the way out, closed and locked the window. I'll figure out how to put it back in later.

Offerings to Bast are in order.

TWO
Sunday. Sunny and still a little chilly, though warm enough that I opened the bathroom window for the edification of coon cats.

Breakfast was ... eggs scrambled with tomato and onion and rice. I guess I ate about half of it before Adventure overtook me. I hate cold eggs. I did finish my toast and jam. Lunch will be chicken tender and mashed potatoes out of a bag and, oh, peas, why not?

I have a letter to write, but mostly I want to write. I really hope that isn't too much to ask.

I ... am still a little shaky, and so glad that Firefly and Tali came to get me instead of following Rook out the window. I might've talked Firefly in, but Tali'd be halfway to the mall in Augusta by now. Fans of Trooper will be pleased to hear that he slept through the entire thing.

So! Who's up for Adventure today?

Picture of Rook after the fall: