robotech_master

OK, folks. I am behind on everything, and also helpfully experiencing rolling waves of angst.

I am therefore going electron-free in order to ease some of the wear-and-tear on the auctorial nervous system.

Y'all stay safe. Be kind to each other. Feel free to talk among yourselves. Older hands know where the snacks and beverages are -- help out the newbies, 'k?

Later.

Tuesday. Sunny, already warm and heading for the 70sF. They say.

Trash and recycling are at the curb. Breakfast has been et.

Slept well last night. The cats all piled on top of me, set purr boxes on HIGH, pushed the personal gravity fields to the top and -- it worked. Eight hours and change, and I feel much more human.

My second cup of tea is brewing. Once I've dealt with that, I'll be doing errands, including getting gas, while there's any left to get, and a Staples run -- very likely my last at our in-city store, which will be closing next month. What else -- ah, the usual: grocery, bank, post office, goodwill, CVS. Home for lunch and possibly catching up the filing before I leave again for the library and needleworking.

What's everybody doing today?

I did try this morning to get a picture of all four of us, but Firefly refused to be photographed until she had gotten her eyes done properly, which means you guys get two pictures of three.

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LOCAL PEEPS OF THE FLANNEL SHIRT WEARING INCLINATION: I just bought two flannel shirts at Reny's for $5/each, and the Word is that they're being "put away" today. So, if you're wanting to stock up on flannel -- get thee to Reny's, like, now.

Obviously, I'm home again. Not only that, I accomplished almost all of my errands (I did not manage to buy two things, not for lack of trying, but for lack of Stuff Being In Stock).

I bought notebooks, legal pads and folders at Staples. Mind you, I don't need any more notebooks or legal pads, but -- sale. Also -- new notebooks.

Did my Smol grocery shop at the Elm Plaza Hannaford, not wishing to brave the KMD Hannaford, where the freezers and cold keepers were out for most of the weekend.

The oven is heating for my Very! First! CookUnity Experience, which is apparently ... Mediterranean Chicken Shawarma Bowl with Mint-Tahini sauce.

Many thanks to everyone who admired my new haircut. I must, however report, that it was only wet hair dragged back into a ponytail. This is what it looks like, after I've been running around all morning. And, yes, I do need a haircut, but -- not today.

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Report on my very first Cook Unity meal, Mediterranean Chicken Shawarma Bowl with Mint-Tahini sauce, and a crazy little side salad, made with pickles, cherry tomatoes, and something yellow and dense, in cubes (edited to add: I am informed that these were pickled turnips). I love cultures that treat pickles like a food, rather than an afterthought. Just by the way.

The main course was good, but a little more than I'm accustomed to eating for lunch, which is my big meal of the day. I'll have the rest of it tonight, but this could be an unexpected downside to having a meal service. Or, not, if I routinely get two meals out of one.

Anyhow, no complaints of the food, for Meal One.

Onward.
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So, I just learned a whole new way to be rude. I forgot to go to the bank when I was out earlier (this is what happens when you don't Write It Down), so I went out after lunch. And as the teller was counting out my twenties for me, I saw one that was taped together, and another, that Ought To Have Been taped together. So, when she was done counting, I pulled those two bills and asked for replacements.

Her: You saw those?

Me: (Not in the OutLoud voice: Obviously.) Yes, I watch when people count money out. Old Habit.

Her: You want different bills?

Me: Yes. I don't want my money to fall apart before I spend it.

Her: Replaces the twenties. Sighs heavily.

Me: Thank you. Leaves. Sighs heavily.

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Finished my latest project

Where were we?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And we were off.

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

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

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

How's everybody doing today?

For those still playing along at home, I've added Carpe Diem to the Liaden Read-Along thread on Splinter Universe.

Intro  

Commentary 

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

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

How's everybody doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think that's all I've got.

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

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

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

*throws hands in air* *catches them*

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

Exciting times.

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

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

I'm back!

And all of my files are intact!

Cabana boy! Wine!

And a glass!

Tuesday. Sunny and cold. I should get the trash and recycling to the curb -- and I will! But right now it's too cold for your friendly neighborhood author to move. Also the driveway is a sheet of ice, so I'll have to put the ice grippers on my shoes.

Right now, I'm talking to you and drinking chocolate chai tea with half-and-half.

Early question from last night's post! "Haven't those guys ever read anything but SF?"

SHORT ANSWER: Dunno, but -- it's possible.

LONG ANSWER: I've talked about this before, and I'll preface the following iteration by saying that I'm not trying to police anyone's reading habits. Reading fiction is a relaxation. I'm not gonna tell you what beer to drink, either.

That said, and recalling that Local Custom, Scout's Progress, and Mouse and Dragon file under SF -- back when I was an eggling, It. Was. Not. Possible. to only read SF. Even someone who reads slower than I do had to read in a variety of genres, and while that doesn't mean that people not so inclined had to read romance books (which, BTW, did not exist in today's form), they did have to stretch their minds somewhat to encompass the protocols demanded by other genres. Maybe not by much, if they stuck to SF, and SF's first cousin, pornography; action novels, war stories -- but still broader than some people read today.

Because today, it is not only possible to only read SF, it's also possible to only read the teensy, tiny subgenre that you prefer above all others. You never have to read fiction that makes you even the smallest bit uncomfortable, or offers you the opportunity to think a New Thought, or to practice a confusing scenario that that you might well face in RL.

Back in The Day, we were also taught to read. That is, we weren't just taught the words and cut loose. We read out loud in school and answered questions. Now, I learned to read in a Catholic School, (an inaccuracy of its kind, but bear with me) and our primers chronicled the adventures of ... Ann and David, I believe. They were teaching stories and had rather heavy-handed morals. And after we read each little adventure, Sister would ask us -- Why did Ann do That Thing? Why was David worried? What did Mother say that you should all remember?

And I very much fear that the kind of reading lesson where children are taught to engage with the text, with the characters, and think about what the words mean, is a thing of the past, as well.

So! My tea's gone. I think I'll go rustle up some oatmeal.

Everybody have a good day.

Happy second birthday to Rook Thunderpaws, aka Rookie the Cookie.

What went before: Wednesday. Snowing and partly sunny.

Despite the distress it will of course cause his fandom, I am forced to report that Rookie the Cookie is a Schmuck. Or possibly only a Jerk. He's been knocking stuff off the shelves in the Tech Room -- notably, bottles of liquid toner, which apparently make a lovely thud-SMACK sound when they land (honestly, it's a very distinctive sound; I can recognize a toner bottle hitting the floor from two rooms away). I expect he doesn't really know that I can't easily pick the damn' things up right now, but -- aargh. Get a cat, they said, they'll be fun. Get a Maine Coon Cat, they said. They're very interested in their people and like to engage.

In other news, despite having felt somewhat better last night, I'm back to Square One (minus the THC) this morning. It occurs to me that I better line up a ride to my appointment at Thayer tomorrow afternoon, which -- aargh x 2. I hate bothering people to do stoopid stuff for me.

I've written to my PCP regarding pain management -- the idea being that, going in the front door with back pain (yes, I'm doing my PT homework) needs to be supported by another approach, because even my therapist said that this will keep happening, only as my core gets stronger, an episode will last ... less long. What I want, of course, is The Grail: something that will kill the pain, or get it down to manageable levels, and neither make me sick or fuzz me out, so I can write. And so I'm not a danger to myself or to the cats. That's important, too. As is eating. It's ridiculously hard to eat when you're in pain.

The cats are taking good care of me -- well. Firefly and Tali are checking in regularly to administer lap-sits and purr therapy.

Rookie's knocking shit off the shelves in the Tech Room.

In addition to pain management brainstorm, I arrived at the opinion that I should also figure out ways to work even when I'm feeling this bad. So! I have moved Writing Operations to the comfy chair in my office (which has been Back Pain Central), rigged up the laptop with my favorite keyboard, and brought the WIP, and the portable hard drive here, too. So, hopefully, I'll be able to continue with fixing stuff that's already been written, and that this episode of painful nonsense will vacate before I realio, trulio need to start producing New! Copy!

So, that's the somewhat muddled news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How's everyone doing?
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So, that was no fun at all.

I don't want to get ahead of myself but I may have gotten around the Horn. Of course, I'm shaky because I haven't eaten anything for 3 days except peanut butter crackers (Note to self:  Buy peanut butter crackers; the damn things are lifesavers.) to buffer the meds.

I do have a ride lined up for my appointment this afternoon, so that's good, and my intention is to actually have breakfast and then come back to the comfy chair, do some work on the WIP, and not push things. And eat snacks. What a time to be out of hummus. Bad planning, past me.

Firefly is on my lap and purring.

I'm almost done my Russian Caravan tea Christmas present (Note to self: buy more Russian Caravan tea).

And that's that's the fascinating Thursday report from the cat farm and confusion factory.

Dictated to my phone.
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Did some work on the WIP, actually ate food. Steve Symonds gave me a ride to and from the hospital for my test, so that's taken care of. Managed to get the cat fountains changed out, which has been really bothering me. I'm such a bad cat mom. Talked to the accountant, and -- ouch. Not unexpected, but still. Ouch. I'll pick up the papers on Monday, when -- fingers crossed -- I hope to be Fully Operational.

In the meantime *whispers* my back is not hurting, which places as a Minor Miracle, and what I really want to do is go curl up (figuratively) and read Local Custom.

May I just say what a great job we did with Local Custom? The gradual unfurling of the leaves of character, the! worldbuilding!, the things that are said so very plainly and yet don't mean the same thing to the person you're talking with and -- I swoon. No, really.

Damn, I wish I could write like that.

Also? There's a description -- a Very Detailed Description -- of a counterchance board. I. Had. No. Idea.

So, anyway, I see the tax stuff, and that I have to Move Monies in order to satisfy the IRS and the State of Maine, but yanno what?

Imma go read.

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

No...really. I will.

Tali collecting overdue ear scrubbles: