What went before ONE:  Oh. Here's something amusing.

Someone had suggested yesterday that I go to Aldi for grapes.

I typed "Aldi near me" into the search bar, and I am offered!

Newington NH (250 miles RT)
Dover NH (250 miles RT)
And! My favorite: Port Orange, FL (3,000 miles RT)

So, that's why I'm not going to Aldi for grapes.
#
What went before TWO:  Two thousand eight hundred and eighty-ish new words written, bringing the WIP entire into the vicinity of 94,050.

"Frogging" is a knitting term that I believe Brenda Clough introduced into my vocabulary. It comes from "rip it, rip it" which is what one does when one makes a mistake.

Tomorrow will not be a writing day. I have some layout to complete and a couple phone calls to make before I hit the road to Glass Express, where the class is to meet our instructor "directly after work." I wonder what that means. Class officially starts at 6. I guess if I arrive at 5, the time won't be wasted. I mean, really, I'm going to be in a glass shop. It's not like there won't be stuff to look at.

Checking the weather, I see that we are now under a Freeze Watch tonight. Looks like I'd better go out and cover up the rose bush.

Aaand, back. Rook saw me heading for the front door and threw himself at my knees, yelling. It is almost Happy Hour, but jeez, kid.

In addition to the freeze warning, the weatherbeans tell me that it will be sunny and 60ishF/16ishC on Friday. Rain starting Sunday evening and that's most of next week, right there. So! Friday Will Be a Writer's Day Off.

I do believe that's all the news &c.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I'll check in tomorrow.
#
Thursday, sunny and cold. Ish.

I did turn on the oil heat to warm us up at floor level, while the heat pumps do their thing overhead.

I did cover the rosebush last night, but something disagreed with my design decision, be it wind or be it beast, and the blanket was off the rose this morning.

Today! I really hope to get the November echapbook up for preorder. Fingers crossed. I also have some phone calls to make. Including a call to make an appointment to have my hair cut. I'm still liking it longer, except for the part where my bangs fall in my eyes -- see haircut, above.

I find a note from Adult Ed in my mail this morning informing me that our instructor expects to meet us at Glass Express at 5 pm, so that's one question answered.

I also see in my inbox that! my bats will arrive today. That's awesome. The last best guess for delivery that I saw was October 15 or something. Early delivery FTW.

Yes, I bought bats. I like bats.

What else? Oh. Just got a "Hello, this is a cold call for Steve Miller. Is he --" Sigh. I really miss being able to slam down a receiver.

I had the house phone forwarding to my cell, so that the cellular robot could stop that stuff before it even got recorded. It was doing a good job, too. Then, a couple days ago, the house phone started ringing again -- one call from the hospital and four calls for Steve. I need to look up again how to forward the landline.

So! That's my day pretty well laid out.

Who's doing something that's fun?

Today's blog post title is from The Beach Boys, "Fun, fun, fun" -- which is also a formative song.  First, there's the Interesting Truth of:
Well the girls can't stand her
'Cause she walks, looks, and drives like an ace now

And also -- granting that I'm probably the only one who ever put this spin on it, welcome to my brain -- that Our Narrator is a hero because he's going to let her drive his car.  Because, I mean, yeah, what else would he want to do?

Rosebush, uncovered:

For those who are still with me, here's the link to this morning's cat census.

What went before: I think I may have wrassled a working book outta The System. I'll check again when I get home after needlework.

In the meantime, the hospital decided it had been coy enough and decided to Reveal that it had the orders for the xray of my spine, which -- three weeks in the making! -- took 15 minutes.

It is, however, done, and I now have tomorrow, most of Thursday, all of Friday to do writing and other needed tasks here at the Confusion Factory. That is, of course, unless I decide that I really have to go to the ocean on Friday. Because a drive to the ocean is always in order.

It is very warm outside in the world. While I was out, I filled up the car and bought nine! dollars! worth of California grapes. I gotta start watching prices closer.

So, I'm checking out for the day.

Y'all stay safe. I'll see you tomorrow.
#
And the work day commences.  The goal is 1,000 words.  My supervisor is skeptical:

#
Wednesday. Rainy, cool, and gloomy.

Had to frog a scene and rewrite. New material is up for this afternoon. Did a load of wash, because I could.

Taking a break now to make ham and bean soup for lunch -- ref rainy, cool, gloomy -- and glare at my email.

Got the results of my spine xray and my bloodwork back. I would like to talk to my doctor about what these things mean -- remember when you could talk to your doctor on the phone? -- but I guess I'll wait until December.

In slightly better news, I do have a PT appointment in mid-November -- in Oakland! (aka 3 miles from my house; 6 mile RT). I was pretty sure I was going to have to drive to Augusta (aka 40 miles RT) for PT, so that was a nice medical surprise. I'm hoping that the therapist and I can put her heads together and get a long-term fix that doesn't require surgery, because we're avoiding surgery, we are. With bells on.

The cats have each checked in with me this morning, and Rookie did an hour of supervision at the beginning of the shift, but apparently rewriting is boring.

It looks like, if I'm going to the ocean, Friday is my bet, before next week's nor'easter. Friday drive to the ocean is therefore inked in for Friday.

So! For those reading along: How 'bout that Bubo? Pretty dern bold, I thought him. Or perhaps I mean foolhardy.

What's the weather where you are?

What went before:

#
What went before: Senior supervisor checking placement of juniors

 #

Wrote +/-900 words and needed a break to let the guys in the basement get in their beer order.

So, here's my stained glass pattern, all color-coded and waiting for me to go to the glass store (on Thursday with the rest of my class) and buy some damn' glass, Woman! I probably have too many colors, and it seems clear that the pattern, at least, wants Serious Art Glass for the sea and the starfish. I'll see what's on sale at the glass shop, pattern. No promises.

Who's doin' what today?

While I'm up and around...

Last night I went to the much-anticipated magic show -- Magic Rocks, which is pronounced "Magic! Rocks!" and NOT "Magic rocks." The reason for the sign prohibiting rabbits that I posted from the pre-show last night is because the illusionist, Leon Etienne, is IRL allergic to rabbits. So -- no rabbits on stage or in the audience.

It was, yes, loud, because said illusionist is a rock 'n roll enthusiast (thus "Magic! Rocks!), and there were bright lights and no lights at all at strategic moments.

The Lovely Assistants were, lovely, skilled pantomimists, and honestly, all-around good sports. The illusionist himself was personable, funny, and skilled.

There was a kind of camp feel to the show, aided and abetted by the Lovely Assistants, who seemed at times to be saying, "Yes, we all know this trick, right?" And yes, we all did know the trick, but seeing a woman cut in half live! on stage! is its own kind of magic.

I had, as I believe I said last evening, a really good time.

The tricks started big and showy, got small and intimate, then finished up big and showy.

The volunteers from the audience were uniformly good sports, and the expression on their faces when the magic happened multiplied the wonder in the room.

When the illusionists came down into the audience, I was close enough to hear him say to his first volunteer, "Ma'am, I've been looking at you all evening from up on stage, and it's really been bothering me so I hope you won't mind, but you've got a hair right here --" And I also heard her gasp "OH!" when he pulled the toy rabbit out of her ear.

I also want to call out the woman who went up on stage and surrendered her ring to the illusionist, who subsequently made it disappear -- and then revealed that it had not transferred to the jewelry bag that had been set up to receive it. She was visibly tense, and got tenser, and tenser, as box after box after box was unlocked and opened, and her ring was still missing.

When it was finally found, her whole body shouted relief, her smile was to die for, and that one trick was a master class for any storyteller in the art of raising the stakes.

The kid volunteers were also terrific; I'm pretty sure I didn't have that much sangfroid when I was seven.

Anyhow! If you have a chance to see Magic Rocks -- do that.

Saturday. Sky half grey and half blue. Going to be warmer than lately, but by no means hot.

Slept long and late. Breakfast will be sausage and cheese on an English muffin, and lunch will be the lonely pork chop waiting in the fridge.

Thirty-seven years ago today, an orange-and-white UHaul truck with a governor on the accelerator, closely followed by a black Chevrolet Beretta, entered Maine via Routes 2 and 4 in Farmington and made their way to Skowhegan.

In the UHaul was Steve Miller, PIC, copilot Arwen deGrey, and what was left of the Miller and Lee Household -- records and books; a stereo system; an old wooden Philco cabinet radio that didn't work, but served as our mantle; kitchen supplies, and an almost-new microwave oven; two Kaypro computers; a 9-pin printer;, and two so-called computer desks, brand-new and still in the box.

Piloting the Beretta was Sharon Lee, copilot Archie McGee, and passenger Brandee Whitchin. In the trunk was a copy of the manuscript titled Carpe Diem, the Important Life Records of both pilots and cats, a dictionary, a Scrabble set, suitcases, and cat supplies. In the back seat were a few small boxes of this 'n that, and the cat carrier occupied by our passenger.

We arrived in Skowhegan and went to the address that had been given us, to pick up the key to the rental house. Instead, we came away with our deposit, in cash, because the daughter of the gentleman who had rented us the house had left her husband during the time the happy caravan was climbing slowly north from Maryland, and needed a place to live.

We then went downtown, to let the editor at the Skowhegan Reporter know that Mr. Miller, whom he had hired after two extensive phone interviews, was in town and ready for work. Unfortunately, in a game of Editorial Spin the Bottle indulged in by the owner of the syndicate the Skowhegan editor had been reassigned, and the new editor had neither news of, nor desire for, a spanking new reporter who didn't know the beat.

Considerably let down, the Plan in shambles, but still determined to proceed, the pilots drove out to the edge of town, where they found a campground motel that was in the process of being shut down for the winter. The combination of Steve's golden tongue and the kindness of the campkeepers saw us in the possession of both a very tiny cabin, and a promise that they would tell the crew to winterize that cabin last, so we could have time to find a more permanent solution.

That done, we drove to the other edge of town, rented a storage unit, stashed our stuff, went to the local Hannaford, got salads from the salad bar, and the big bottle of Gallo, returned to our cabin, and the cats, We ate, played a game of Scrabble, and went to bed.

The next morning, there was snow on the ground, and, after dining well at Burger King, the pilots drove to Augusta to return the UHaul truck, then came went back to the cabin in Skowhegan, and sat down to make a New Plan.

What's everybody doing today?

What went before ONE: So. Just wasted an hour inputting 20 infringed works into an online form only to have the dreaded "Something went wrong!" appear at the end of it all.

I could have done something useful with that hour.

Wrote to the administrator.

Eschewing strong drink at this time.

What went before TWO: Eek. I really may have bitten off more than I can chew this time. Stained glass is going to be intense.

There's ... eight of us, I guess. At least two are returning students. Some have worked with stained glass before. I of course am a Compleat Newbie. I did appreciate our instructor reminding us several times that the project we'll be working on was going to be Our First, and that glass ... breaks.

I managed to cut out a rectangle and a triangle, but a circle still eludes me. I do know that the secret is that glass breaks in straight lines, but I think I'm going to have to find a youtube howto, because I Just Ain't Gettin' It, and my pattern of course has a lot of curved lines.

There will also be Homework, which means I'll be working in the back basement room, to keep cats out of glass, and glass dust out of the house.

Well. Onward. Next week -- shopping! at Glass Express in Manchester. Which means I should spend some time planning out the colors in my project.

But all that? Is for later.

For right now, I need to read a chapter of A Night in the Lonesome October, and find something to eat.

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

Friday. Cool and not getting too much warmer. Sun coming up, but behind the trees, so I can't verify the "big bald head" aspect of the event.

Breakfast was blueberry skyr. Drinking my first cup of tea. Haven't the faintest about lunch, though I did defrost a pork chop, so there is that.

Sarah's due in half an hour, more or less, whereupon I will join the cats in a genteel retreat to Steve's office, where I hope to work, and they will perhaps nap.

After Sarah has finished, I have Errands, which include a trip to the post office, the pet store (the cats have finally hidden all the springs), SBS (to get my glass pattern enlarged) and the grocery. Lunch may be added to the list. I'm told there's a creperie in town, now. Who knew?

I went to Informed Delivery to check my incoming mail, and the site is ... not behaving. It occurs to me that the goobers shut down the goobermint, and unfortunately the government, what was left of it, too -- and thus, there may be no mail. And certainly no one looking out for the website.

Interesting times.

What's on for Friday at your place?

Today's blog post title from Ms Laurie Anderson, "Sharkey's Day", yes, again.  It was a formative song.