Disassembly of Reason

The Long Back Yard

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Friday. Cloudy. Breezy. Cold.

The weather beans tell me that it's not going to snow today, but I'm watching flakes kind of just lazily drifting out of the sky so that's interesting.

I slept solid and never woke up until 7:30. The exciting end of book writing schedule is just exhausting. All together now: Writing is hard.

I'm sitting in the comfy chair overlooking the long backyard with the happy light on. Eventually I'll get up and get some breakfast and do my duty to the cats and wander off down coast for a bit.

I hope everybody has a good day.

Dictated to my phone.

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Pine Point

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Well. It was a nice day for a drive. Too cold to walk on the beach, though I saw some brave souls out there.

The spine doctor says keep doing what I'm doing. I have a referral to an osteo in Augusta, for manipulation, and also an extension on my PT ticket, since next time is the last time. I at least want that on file in case I need to go back, sorta like running a credit balance on your credit card.

Since it was all nice and sunny and all, and because I haven't practiced with my navigator for a while, I drove home up Route 9, and let the navigator take me through Portland.
Got home to find, despite the instructions being in my FedEx file AND the garage door being open so it would be easy to just sit the box inside, the deliveryperson had opted to throw the 50-lb box against the front door. That's right, so it didn't open.

I struggled, and got the door open, whereupon the latch on the screen door flew free and splotted on the driveway.

Went inside, took care of business, came back to go through the door and get my Stuff out of the car and! That's right! The door doesn't open.

I get out my phone to call my neighbor, only -- I can't make a call. I can, however, text, and she's home and she promises to come right over and let me out, just as soon as she gathers her tools, in case it was an easy fix.

While I'm waiting for her, I look out needlenose pliers, which don't work, and only then realize I can reach through the window and open the latch from the outside, which I do.

Neighbor arrives. We get the latch back on, precariously. We come to the mutual conclusion that the set screw has come loose. We collaborate on a temp fix. Neighbor goes home, comes back with husband who has arrived home in the meanwhile. He sets the screw, diagnosis a worn-out spring, and performs a more stable temporary fix. My mission next week (after I finish this. damned. book) will be to go to the hardware store and see if they can sell me another latching mechanism.

In the meanwhile, I tried to call my cell from my landline and learned that my number is not in service.

So! I guess I should go see what the Verizon page has to say to me about that.

And how was your Friday?
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Verizon will call me back when it's my turn -- at 3:30 pm tomorrow.

So, that's fun. I hope nobody snabbles up my phone number in the meantime.

I bought a sandwich at the Saco Hannaford, but with one thing and something else, I never got around to eating it, so I'm thinking, I'll search up Coon Cat Happy Hour, pour a glass of wine and open my sandwich.
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Late updatery: I rebooted my phone and it is now Fully Operational.

I have canceled my litter order from Petco, so I never have to deal with FedEx again. It cost me a little bit of a pang, because it was one of the systems Steve had put into place, but he never meant it to get this stoopid.

I will be writing tomorrow, Saturday, and the next day, Sunday. With only a little bit of luck, I'll finish this damned draft.

Today's blog post brought to you by Blue Oyster Cult, "Godzilla"

The Long Back Yard:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What did y'all do today?

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

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

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

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All righty, then! That was Monday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How'd everybody's day go?

The Long Back Yard

The toilet is fixed. Steve Symonds deserves a twenty-five flower parade.

I would like the record to show that I? could never have fixed this myself. A hacksaw was involved.

'nough said.
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Sunday. Cloudy and cooler than it's been tending.

Got up early because that's when I woke up. Oatmeal for breakfast. Chicken breast for lunch if it happens to have thawed. If not, something else.

Wrote, oh? 700 words this morning. Given the timing of breakfast, it's probably not too early to start investigating the idea of lunch. I will do my duty the cats first, in the interests of going back to writing after lunch.

Yes, I am pushing, but I'm at the stage where "almost done!" is driving the writing engine, and, as I may have mentioned once or twice: I'm really tired of this book.

I put up the "Roman" curtain over the window in the front door, and while it's better than what was there, I'm not convinced it's actually what I want for the sliders in Steve's office. If the tie-ups were longer so I could actually adjust the shade to the height of my choosing, which you would think would be the point of this design, I might be convinced. As it is -- meh.

I watched two? three, maybe? episodes of Spy Family last night and it is not for me. May try another title this evening, if I don't faceplant first.

I am aware that I am taking way long with the Agent of Change readalong -- I plead illness. Also, yes, I, too, am reading Conflict of Honors. Things will happen as they happen at this point. Total chaos for the win.

How's everybody doing today?
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Steve Miller, The Empire State Carousel, Fennimore Farm Museum, Cooperstown NY, June 21, 2023.  Photo by Sharon Lee.

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Change of plan, because weather and also brain wants a rest.

So! Wrote just a smidge over 1,000 words today. WIP now at 125,440ish.

You know how you're sick, after you're well again, you have to do all the things you let slide? Yeah, that would be my realization today. If there's eight feet of snow on the ground on Tuesday, I've got to get the trash to the curb, so I went out while it was still warm(ish) to load the toboggan with trash bags and fill up the recycling bin. So, that's ready for Tuesday morning, no matter what.

Also, I missed changing out the cat boxes, ref "sick" above, so that will be my next trick, after which I get a shower, sweats, and ice cream in my blanket fort.

This means I can write tomorrow, and get the trash out before I have to be at PT on Tuesday morning (boy, am I gonna be in trouble with the therapist), with the least possible amount of exertion, and, hopefully, no crazypants.

I'll just say my good-evenings now. Kind of a weird day, but, some days are weird.

Everybody stay safe.

What went before:

Saturday. Sunny and warm. Snow is melting apace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

deep breath

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

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

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

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

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

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

Example: Chaos's

That? Is an ugly something or other.

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

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

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

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I'll check in tomorrow.