Category: revising

Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses

Here we are on my first ever (and hopefully last ever) work-at-home Monday. I did used to do work-at-home Mondays, but I didn’t like them very much. I didn’t get up as early as I would have liked to, but …the bed was comfy, the blankets were heavy and warm, and Sparky was being a cuddle-bug. Since I didn’t have to get up early to shower before work, I allowed myself more time in the bed this morning. What can I say? I don’t know why Sparky has become a morning cuddlebug, either–he rarely sleeps in the bed with us; Skittle and Scooter loved the bed and slept there without us all the time, but not Sparky. I do have a lot of work-at-home stuff to get done today, which means fighting with Sparky over my chair (something I also had to do with both of his predecessors)…but there are very worse things.

A lot of worse things, actually. I shudder to check the news this morning. Hmm, I see someone sent out an AI image of himself as Jesus. Remember those ten commandments that the Right wants to post in every classroom and outside of public buildings? I believe the very first one is Thou shalt have no other God before Me. Maybe they want to put them up because they need a constant reminder?

I think I may be on to something here. Sheesh. And yes, I screen shot the blasphemy to keep to share whenever some fucking smug Christian pulls that faith bullshit with me on line.

Yesterday was kind of nice. I slept late, felt relaxed and good, and did get some things done around the apartment. I was also creative for a lot of the day, thinking and taking notes and trying to wrap my mind around a few things. My mind is flooding with creativity again, and was kind of all over the map the last few days so much that I didn’t even remotely try to contain it and just let it roam wherever it wanted to go without restraint. I also realized part of my motivational issue with writing right now is because I have so much to work on I feel overwhelmed and paralyzed at the daunting chore ahead of me. But…that isn’t helpful and only increases the feeling of being overwhelmed, so I need to start putting one foot in front of the other and getting things done. So…list and prioritize, get organized and stop just floating from day to day with no plan. I was going to get the mail and maybe some groceries today after my work at home duties, but I can also do that on my way home from the office tomorrow. It was a gorgeous day yesterday, and it looks like another one today–this truly is the best part of the year in New Orleans, when everything is blooming and the air smells lush and sweet and redolent with sweet olive, jasmine, magnolia and honeysuckle. I’ve yet to see a stinging caterpillar, and the return of the termites is just around the corner.

I’ve also kind of reached that same point about the world and the country as I have with the writing; all I do now is just laugh at the insanity and think about how apropos that we’re dancing so close to the abyss because everything is fucking stupid. Yes, I think I may have snapped. I mean, we have the First Lady throwing her husband under the Epstein bus and bringing it back to the forefront again, the disaster of the war and the explosion of inflation because of it–I don’t even want to think about gas prices; another reason I don’t want to leave the house today–but at least there was a bright spot in Hungary as the people there voted out right-wing extremism in a landslide; another slap in the face to MAGA as the world recognizes the scourge of fascism and rejects it yet again. Hey Americans–you have an opportunity to do the same and purge these anti-American traitors this fall. Maybe we can even get the world to start forgiving us for our arrogance and stupidity.

I started a reread of Listen for the Whisperer by Phyllis A. Whitney yesterday on my iPad, and the Gothic-tropes were just radiating off the pages as I made it through the first chapter. I originally read this shortly after Victoria Holt’s The Secret Woman and Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree, which put me all in on romantic suspense for the next two decades. Gothics/domestic suspense were about women’s fears; and what could be more hardboiled than thinking the man you love might be trying to kill you? This was my first Whitney novel for adults after reading many of her juvenile mysteries; it had everything I could possibly want: a fading movie star, a decades-old unsolved murder mystery, and some histrionic family melodrama. Leigh Hollins is a professional young woman with emotional issues, so she wasn’t an heiress; her father was a best selling novelist so she had some privilege; she’s in her early twenties. And then it’s off to Norway; more on this later obviously once the reread is complete.

The next Scotty is going to be a sort of Mardi Gras mystery, even though I’ve already done one, and am still working out how to include and interweave all the things I want to include and its going to include some callbacks to the series history, methinks, which will make it more fun for me to write.

I also completed my rewatch of The Traitors fourth American season, and am digesting my thoughts to write about my latest obsession.

And on that note, tis another cup of coffee for me and into the spice mines for the day. Have a great Monday, everyone, and I will be back tomorrow morning bright and early.

Beautiful physique model Dick DuBois from the 1950s and the “fitness” magazines—which would also be an interesting setting for a queer noir.

Wide Open Spaces

Sunday morning and I am still feeling disoriented. I kept thinking yesterday was Friday, and that today would be Saturday. I have an errand to run and some groceries to have delivered. I stayed up late finishing the laundry–it was launder the bed linens day, postponed from Friday, which also helped with the day mind-fuckery–but slept very well and slept in. The kitchen looks much better than it did yesterday morning, but it still needs some work. After Paul got up, we just had a lazy day hanging out and watching television. It was indeed a gorgeous day out there yesterday and it looks like today is going to be just as lovely. I may take a walk later just to revel in the day and get some exercise. Maybe I’ll stretch today too–can’t hurt, right? I’m starting to feel the itch to become more physically active, since I am not nearly as tired all the time the way I used to be. It’s so lovely not to be tired, Constant Reader, you have no idea!

I can also tell my injection is due next Monday.

I was thinking–I did do a lot of that yesterday–about my recent newsletter essay about gender roles and my not fitting in as a child as a boy who didn’t conform to my assigned gender role (which meant I was gender-nonconforming) and that really, it was the late 1970’s/early 1980s when those rigid roles began to loosen slightly. I’m enjoying all this introspection and self-discovery journey I’ve been on for the past few years (beginning with Mom’s death), which also makes me realize how long I avoided examining myself and my life. I thought I did a lot of navel-gazing before, but it was always pretty shallow and never went very deep, ever; often, I think, because there were things about myself I preferred not to know, or to confront. But I’m more interested now in accepting patterns of behavior that I now understand were driven by the anxiety, which is now under control.

I also spent some more time paging through Jackson Square Jazz and kind of enjoying it, because it also is reminding me of writing the book and the research that went into it, particularly the Cabildo Fire, which was a real event that I wrote into the book as a pivotal moment for the plot and I got to write about some New Orleans history that may or may not have ever been talked about in fiction. (I also remember being rather taken aback when someone told me the pre-Katrina Scotty books were also important historically because they documented what gay Quarter life was like before everything changed; Jean Redmann did the same for the lesbian side.) I am in the thinking stages of the eleventh (!!!) Scotty right now, too–I know the plot elements I want to hit–and I am also thinking about getting back into the in-progress manuscript I am trying to focus my energies on (rereading Christa’s story from Crime Ink: Iconic got me back into that mindset again, even as I realized I couldn’t tell my story as well as they told theirs); I need to immerse myself into that world again as I reconfigure my main character, who I was softening a bit. No, the main character, Greg, needs to be on the make, as they used to say back then, using his looks and his body to advance himself in Hollywood, while painting a dark picture of what being queer in Hollywood used to mean.

And so, on that note, I think I am going to bring this to a close and go have some breakfast before settling into my easy chair to read; I think I am going to reread Listen for the Whisperer by Phyllis A. Whitney and try to get further into my first-time reading book. I also need to do the floors and clean up the workspace a bit this morning. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow on work-at-home Monday. Till then!

The beauty of Yosemite

He’s a Heartache

Thursday dawns and it is my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! I don’t think I’ve worked an entire week straight in a while–funerals, holidays, sick–and I could tell yesterday afternoon around three when I hit a wall. Lord have mercy, how tired I was–or as my grandmother used to pronounce it, lawda mersa ah’m tahrd. You see why I don’t ever spell out phonetically what a Southern person is saying and how they say it. Spellcheck would go insane, and can you imagine how the copy editor would respond? Anyway, I feel pretty good this morning. I slept well again, an the Sparkster even got into bed and cuddled around my knees in the middle of the night, which I am sure made the sleep more restful. It’s amazing how pets are calming, isn’t it? I was very tired when I got home from running errands–the mail and making groceries; I had to throw out everything in the freezer1–so after putting everything away I collapsed into my chair, Sparky joined me, and I lost myself in the news (always grim) before rewatching another episode of The Traitors, most recent American season. Last night’s episode is when Rob first appeared in bib overalls without a shirt, which is ironically the same episode he began to win me over as someone other than just a pretty face. It’s such an obsession for me now, but it’s very highly entertaining.

I don’t think we’re busy today in the clinic, and it’s just me again today. I have some paperwork that needs catching up on, so I should be able to get everything done at the office today, or I could just bring it home and do it tomorrow when I get my work-at-home day. Choices, right? I do have some things I’d like to get done this weekend on top of the usual every weekend chores; reading and writing and so forth. I want to get another newsletter out this weekend, so I can get back on schedule with that. I also want to get started revising Jackson Square Jazz, too. I paged through the book again last night, and it really is a kitchen-sink book. I think I wanted it to be extremely complicated with lots of twists and turns along the way, and it definitely did that.

I also have to set up Sparky’s new water fountain. He’s taken to drinking directly from the faucet–he even has a specific chirp now for water–so I thought he might like to have a drinking fountain. It wasn’t terribly expensive, but I don’t know if he will like it or not. Ah, well, I inherited some money from a friend, so I spent some of that money on it, so I won’t be out a lot if he doesn’t. And who knows? He might take to it immediately. Stranger things have happened, after all.

Can I just say that I’m extremely tired of having the country run by fascist morons? After this week’s flirtation with nuclear annihilation, the great “dealmaker” wound up agreeing to a ceasefire that sure as fuck looked like a surrender treaty. All those billions, all those lives lost or injuries, the depletion of our weapons arsenal, and now every ship passing through the Strait of Hormuz has to pay a two million dollar toll? Are we tired of all this winning yet? If only someone could have warned all those MAGA voters…oh, wait. Looks like those two bitches you misogynistic scum couldn’t bring yourself to vote for were right about everything. Too bad they had vaginas, right? Because someone with a button mushroom sized penis who has been overcompensating for it most of his life is such a better choice. And it’s not like he didn’t tell you everything he was going to do, too, so miss me with your “I didn’t vote for this.” Yeah, you actually did. And I will never let anyone forget that as long as I am breathing. You voted against democracy and for fascism. Is the New York Times sending people to rust belt diners to see how those simple country folk are faring well with the consequences of their racism and misogyny? I think not.

Sigh.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning yet again, bright and early.

  1. It’s working properly again; I think I must have hit the thermostat in the freezer putting something in there and accidentally turned it to the lowest setting. I think it was also overly full, too. ↩︎

After the Gold Rush

Today’s title is an old Neil Young song that I first heard as a cover by Prelude in 1974, and then again by Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt on their Trio II album, which is the best version in my opinion. Their harmonies are angelic, you know? The song’s lyrics are apocalyptic and strange, but also very beautiful. It actually inspired a novel I’ve never gotten to; one of those a bunch of college kids visit a ghost town in the California mountains and end up being picked off one by one type novels, but maybe someday I’ll get back to it. One never knows. I also figured out what to do with Sorceress and its unfinished sequel this weekend, too, which is very exciting. It was a pretty good weekend after all, wasn’t it?

I did feel a bit groggy yesterday morning, and it was overcast, which didn’t help get me motivated to wake up and get moving, and I was still a bit groggy and unmotivated when I got to the office. It wasn’t a slow day, but it wasn’t a busy day, either. I did hit a wall around noon, but after eating lunch I kind of had my strength and energy back so I made it through the day. I stopped and made a small bit of groceries on my home, and had every intention of doing chores when I got home–but my easy chair and Sparky made short work of that. Paul worked at home yesterday, so he came down and we finished watching The Night Agent, which we both enjoyed before going to bed last night. I feel pretty good this morning–didn’t want to get up, like always–but I am not achy and sore.

While I was watching television last night, I started paging through Jackson Square Jazz and thinking, hmm, this sentence is awkward and wouldn’t write it that way now here and there, so maybe I should go through and do a revision before getting it formatted and so forth. I was always hesitant about revising my old work–what’s done is done has always been my theory–but now I’m wondering if I should? There’s also a lot going on in that book, almost like I threw everything into it but the kitchen sink. It was more layered and deeper than Bourbon Street Blues, which was just a caper adventure. It was also nice seeing how much Scotty’s voice has changed over the years as he’s grown and matured; he was kind of a Peter Pan type, just enjoying his life and not thinking about the future–or worrying about it, too.

We’re going to be busy in the clinic today, so I will probably be tired when I get home tonight. I had to jump through a couple of hoops first, but I was able to get a new appointment to see my GI specialist–the expensive medication needs a renewal, or maybe I’ll be changed to something else, who knows? It’s hard to believe at this time last year was when I got so terribly and horribly sick. It seems like longer than a year ago to me, but time has that weird ability to seem either short or long, doesn’t it?

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow morning on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday.

Volcano

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. We’re also going to be busy in the clinic today, so I am not going to have time to do much around my clients. Which is fine; last week was slower than usual so it’s no big deal that we’re booked heavily this week. The weekend was lovely and relaxing, which was precisely what I needed. I got to see friends on Friday that I don’t get to see as often as I would like, which was lovely, and while I may have been more tired than usual on the weekend, I did have a nice relaxing weekend and got a lot of things done. It rained overnight Saturday into Sunday afternoon, which was lovely despite the lack of thunder (I always prefer thunderstorms to just rain). The temperature dropped after the rain, too–and I think it may have rained some overnight. I definitely woke up to a sinus revolt this morning. Thank God for Claritin-D, which has made my life ever so much better. It’s going to be in the sixties today before heading back into the seventies as the week progresses.

I got up late yesterday morning–it was the rain, seriously, because there’s nothing better than being in bed snug and warm while it rains–and didn’t get as much done as I would have liked, as always. I did do some of my chores before Paul got up, and got groceries ordered and delivered in the mid-afternoon. We then went back to The Night Agent and binged that for the rest of the day. I still have chores to do, of course, and I need to make some groceries on the way home from the office today. I also have to get some of these chores done/finished tonight, but it will depend on how I feel when I get home from the office today, and how needy Sparky is when I get home.

But it was nice having a lazy Sunday, you know?

I did some writing planning yesterday while watching television, and worked on some newsletter ideas. I think I have finally found my way into the essay series about masculinity, and I have a great idea for another. Yes, one should have been completed and sent this weekend, but I am going to try to shoot for Wednesday this week and then another this weekend. I’d like to keep the Wednesday/weekend duality going forward (unless I’m not here), and missing one delivery date here and there isn’t going to disappoint anyone other than myself…which is how it should be, actually. As Cher says, “I only answer to myself and God.” (And since I don’t really believe in God…)

I also watched Clown in a Cornfield yesterday. One of my streaming services (Apple) suggested it to me; I’d forgotten it had been filmed and released last year (I think I knew? I’m not sure), so when I was reminded of it yesterday I thought hell yeah, let‘s watch! The movie was fun–nothing anyone needs to break their leg rushing to go see–but it was an absolutely competent slasher movie. They left out a lot of the societal and political stuff that was slyly slipped into the book and made it so delightfully wicked. I suppose it was unnecessary to the overall point of the movie–slasher fun–but that also lessened the delivery of the big twist to the story. The young cast was good, the dialogue sharp and witty, and it’s a pleasant addition to the canon. There are two sequels to the novel now; I read the first one but haven’t gotten to the third part of the trilogy. I’m also looking forward to streaming Scream 7 when it’s available.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning again.

I will never tire of taking pictures of New Orleans’ marvelous live oaks

Fall from Grace

Thursday morning and I am driving to Alabama this afternoon. I slept well yesterday, but still got tired yesterday afternoon. I am almost finished with an editorial job, which hopefully I will get done tonight before I go to bed at the hotel. I didn’t do much of anything when I got home because I was tired; I just ran the dishwasher (I’d meant to turn it on before I left yesterday morning but didn’t) and repaired to the chair with my purring cuddle kitty and finished The Traitors Australia’s first season. There’s only one of those left and one season of New Zealand on Peacock, and then I am going to have to track down how to stream Canada’s. I am going to listen to Eli Cranor’s latest novel on the drive over and the drive back, and should finish the entire novel by the end of the weekend.

Sigh. I also didn’t pack last night, figuring I could do it after work. My original plan was to drive over this afternoon then drive home after the service tomorrow–old-timey thinking on my part; get it over and get home. Then I realized I have to take Friday off regardless, so why not drive back on Saturday morning? I also thought I’d only leave two hours early, and go from the office. (Dad pointed out that it was kind of nuts to drive back on Friday; which is when I realized how stupid I was being about this entire trip.) Instead I am going to leave work at noon, come home to do some chores and pack, and still get on the road around the time I planned originally to leave work. I don’t have to rush anymore, and rushing always amped up the stress in the pre-medicated days. Now I can just take my time and relax, you know? I can make a packing list this morning at the office and be organized better. I have things to do at the office today before I leave as well, but as long as I stay motivated, I can get everything finished before I head out.

Sigh. Here’s hoping, at any rate.

And it’s yet another messed up week for me; I think this is three or four in a row? There was the water main breaks affecting two separate Mondays and I was sick the Monday in between those two. This week is disrupted by an unexpected trip. But getting home Saturday afternoon will give me the chance to get things caught up, make groceries, and maybe do some cleaning and get the apartment back under control. I do feel like I am actually getting a grip or a handle on my life again…and I just remembered the Festivals are next weekend, too, so that’s not going to be a normal pair of weeks, either. Ah, well, maybe some sense of order will return to my life in April.

One most excellent thing that happened yesterday was a conversation in a group text with some friends led my mind to spiral into what the plot for the next Scotty and its title (French Quarter Follies), so I madly scribbled down some notes and now I know what Scotty XI (eleven???) will be; I was a bit worried because I hadn’t been able to come up with anything, other than I wanted it to be another swing at Carnival. That was kind of exciting; my creativity has been mostly limited to non-fiction (blog and newsletters) since I finished writing the last book and now I am starting to get some of the old creative ADHD back. I’ve not been able to harness and focus it yet, so I am letting it have free reign to bounce all over the place and see what happens. I think listening to Eli’s book on the drive will also kickstart me back into reading fiction again–and I think my next reread with be a Phyllis A. Whitney classic–my very first of her novels for adults, Listen for the Whisperer. (I love that title, too.) I need to complete my reread of The Egyptian Cat Mystery, too.

I also picked up a copy of Bob the Drag Queen’s novel Harriet Tubman: Live in Concert, based on recommendations by Kristopher Zgorski and Catriona McPherson, which I’d really like to dig into.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Thursday, and most likely won’t be back until Saturday when I get home, or may even wait until Sunday. Until then, au revoir.

Just Like a Woman

Thursday, and my last day in the office for the week. I am feeling so much better than I did over the weekend and the first few days of this work week and also am feeling a bit more centered than I have since that morning last Monday when there was no water pressure and we were in a boil water advisory. I wound up spending all of last week off-balance, got sick over the weekend (I was coming down with it on Friday evening, and it peaked on Sunday and Monday, with some left over on Tuesday when I went back to the office), and now I finally feel more like myself. Thank God, right? It was so lovely waking up this morning without a head full of snot and a sore throat and post-nasal drip *shudder*. Tomorrow morning I have a meeting in the morning and then have doctors’ appointments in the afternoon, and we do need to go to Costco. I’m not sure how this weekend will turn out–productive or restful, or some combination of the two. I’ve not done any chores these past couple of days, and I really should take care of them tonight so I don’t have to come down to a messy kitchen/office space again, and there’s some laundry I should also get done. It’s always so tempting to sit in my chair and catch up on the news before watching more of The Traitors (yes I am obsessed with that show, and I am revisiting things that spark joy in me–anything Alysa Liu or Amber Glenn related, anything Heated Rivalry, anything Ilia Malinin and US women’s hockey, too) with Sparky not helping matters any by sleeping in my lap.

Obviously, it doesn’t take much to kick me off-track, does it? It was lovely to finally feel good again yesterday, and I feel like I should point out that my Achilles tendons are doing much better. The left is fine, but the right is still a bit tender and tight, so will ice it again thoroughly tonight and periodically over the weekend. I want to start stretching again too. The Achilles tendon issue has delayed my return to working out and exercise, but there’s no reason I can’t start stretching again before I feel up to returning to the gym.

I remembered something over the weekend that I’d completely forgotten about, and once I did, I stewed about it for a few days before deciding what I wanted to do. If you will recall, my close friend Victoria died about a year ago, and she left me a gift in her will, which was an absolute shock. I signed the letter from the probate attorney and forgot about it. His office contacted me on Friday that the estate has been probated and I would be getting the gift in a short amount of time, which was a lovely surprise. But this weekend when I was moving things around I came across copies of a book I wrote that I completely forgot about, which is wild to me. In 2009 or 2010, Victoria decided she wanted to start a small press for diverse children’s and young adult fiction. I wasn’t sure it was a great idea–2009 and 2010 weren’t a good time in publishing; this was during the indy/trad author wars, when ebooks were really changing the entire industry–but she knew I had written a couple of young adult manuscript in the earl 1990s and they were collecting dust in a drawer (we’d talked about this when I met the y/a editor from a major press who was familiar with my work and wanted me to submit a manuscript–but Katrina happened and I let that opportunity slip through my grasp), and she wanted to publish one of them (the other two were Sleeping Angel and Sara, which I sold to Bold Strokes). They weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything with any of them, so I thought, knowing the odds of me making any money off it were slim to none, but…she was my friend and I wanted to help her out, so I let her publish Sorceress. Like I said, though, it wasn’t a good time to be launching a traditional publishing company (she hated ebooks), and I didn’t worry about it. I promoted the book the best I could, but have no idea how well it sold, if it sold at all, because I never got a sales statement or a royalty check–but I want to be very clear about this: I loved Victoria and I didn’t care. She had wanted me to write a sequel, which I did a first draft of, but never revised or anything. I never brought it up, she never brought it up, and I had no desire to make her feel bad or guilty about it, so why bring it up? People I know who did read it liked it–it was my first real stab at writing Gothic suspense/horror–but like I said, I gave it to her freely with the full expectation of never seeing a cent.

But now that she’s no longer with us (at least once a day I miss her still) I kind of would like to have the rights to it back, and maybe revise it and put it up as an indy book. (I know, I have to get Jackson Square Jazz up and going, too.) And since she left me a gift, why not use that gift to get these two books–and my next short story collection–up independently? But what about the sequel? It’s not necessarily tied to the first book–different characters, for one–but the same California mountain town (same as Sleeping Angel, too). Anyway, it’s something to ponder.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Thursday, and I’ll be back in the morning yet again!

Fire Burning

Wednesday Pay-the-Bills Day, and the parades start up again tonight with Alla and Druids. We’re busy this morning in the clinic, but I should be able to get my work done before I leave early today so I can get home and park the car within a mile of the house. First world problems, right? At worst I’d have to park at Coliseum Square, a whopping two blocks from the house. The horror!

This is kind of like when your biggest problem is choosing between a mimosa or a Bellini for brunch. The struggle is real! Oh, no, I may have to walk longer than I do usually!

I have to say, though, being trapped at home for the entire weekend sounds both magical and delightful. Watch some Olympics, hang around the house, wander to the corner to check out the parades, icing my ankles…yes, it does sound magical, doesn’t it? I may even be able to get some reading done over the lengthy weekend. I have Monday off, because Orpheus, so I can run errands when I get up that morning, replenish whatever needs replenishing, and so on. I will definitely be able to get some writing and reading done on Fat Tuesday, since I won’t be leaving the house.

We went to Costco last night after I got off work, since we wouldn’t be able to go again until after Mardi Gras. Costco, as always, was a bit exhausting, I must confess. There weren’t many people there, so we were able to get in and out relatively quickly and unscathed. I ran into Wacky Russian there–he works there now–and it was lovely to see him. But once the car was unloaded and everything (mostly) put away, I was worn out so I just collapsed into my easy chair and watched some of yesterday’s Olympic figure skating before retiring to bed. I slept well, my ankles don’t feel too bad this morning, and I get to leave work early because of living inside the box. I slept really well last night, too–must have been the Costco exhaustion. My body feels rested this morning, but the Achilles twins are protesting this morning a bit, and my legs feel a bit tired, but my mind is alert and I don’t think this is going to be one of those “so tired I’m spacy” days. Checking my time sheet, I get to leave at 1:30 this afternoon, so maybe I should make a minor grocery run on the way home. I get to leave at 12:30 tomorrow, and maybe that would be the better day? I’m not sure. I don’t have time this morning to see if we need anything, so maybe it should wait till tomorrow? Decisions, decisions, decisions. I could also wait until Friday morning and run them early. Sigh. I will even get home in time to watch the ice dancing final today. Woo-hoo! It’s also going to be in the upper seventies with a slight chance of rain today–we may get some thunderstorms over the weekend, which could be a major parade bummer…I wonder if they’ll roll anyway? Hard to say, really.

Probably the best part of yesterday was writing over a thousand words written on the short story yesterday, which was very pleasing. It started flowing, but I also was spending too much time agonizing over what to write next and structure and so forth–I need to remember that I just need to regurgitate everything as I write the first draft and then concern myself with fixing and strengthening the story in the next draft. It did feel quite marvelous to be writing fiction again, even if it’s something for a charity anthology call that doesn’t pay–there’s a reason I still have a full-time job, after all.

We also watched the second episode of Glitter and Gold, and it served to only deepen my loathing for the French team. I love Chock and Bates, and would be so delighted to see them win the gold medal to became one of, if not the greatest, American ice dance teams ever. I guess I’ll see when I get home.

ANd on that note, I am going to heat up my breakfast sandwich and head into the spice mines. See you again tomorrow morning, for the Muses day blog.

I don’t think Scott Glenn ever got enough credit for his looks. I could be wrong.

enchanted

And here we are on another work-at-home Friday, after an odd week. Monday was a holiday, and of course I took Wednesday off, so this has been an odd week. I kept thinking yesterday was Monday, for one thing, which was weird–I felt rested and motivated for most of the day, which was a good thing. I was also very efficient, getting everything done that needed to be done, and of course, I have work at home duties to get done. I slept well again and got up earlier than usual, so I feel good this morning, too. Might I actually get some things done this weekend? Remains to be seen. There’s a cold front coming in over the weekend, with temperatures dipping down into the freezing range on Sunday. We’re not supposed to get snow and ice, but….one never can be certain, can one? I did get some chores done last night, too, so I am already ahead on the weekend. All the dishes are clean, so all I need to work on is pruning the books some more and the floors. Huzzah! I should have time to get some writing done as well as some other cleaning and organizing, and reading, too. Well, we’ll see, at any rate; I reserve the right to be lazy this weekend.

I get all sorts of emails trying to sell me ebooks on sale for either $1.99 or $2.99, and usually I’ll get things that I’ve already read, or something I meant to read all along yet never obtained a copy. Yesterday, the ebook I impulsively bought was Thus Was Adonis Murdered by Sarah Caudwell.1 I have a mass market paperback copy I bought any number of years ago, and I cannot remember who recommended it to me, or why they did; but I now have it in physical and ethereal form, so maybe I’ll get around to reading it this year. Maybe I’ll get around to reading something, anything, this year.

I was delighted to see Sinners get so many Oscar nominations, setting a new record for most with 16. I personally loved the movie, thought it was incredibly well made, written, and acted, and am really happy the Academy seems to be getting past its issues with horror cinema (Frankenstein also got a lot of nominations, and I still want to see it). Maybe this weekend I can carve out some time for a rewatch of Sinners, as well as Frankenstein and my rewatch of The Mummy.2 I always have so much to do, and being overwhelmed by it and getting none of it done is a long-standing issue in my life. I think I am nervous about working on Chlorine, and that is effectively blocking me from getting other things done along the way, too. Obviously, the answer to that dilemma is idiot, so start working on it–it can always be fixed. I don’t know why I can’t get past the fear of writing stuff I may not be able to use, but here we are, you know?

I still haven’t watched the final season of Stranger Things, and honestly, can’t drum up much interest in my mind to even consider watching. I don’t remember much, if anything, of the previous season…which is probably part of the problem. We also lost interest in Welcome to Derry, too. I think watching Derry and not getting into it has something to do with my lack of interest in finishing Stranger Things. The show started out as an homage to Stephen King and the 1980s, which made it a lot of fun for me those first few seasons…but if anything, It was kind of the blueprint for Stranger Things, and as a fan of It, there was a lot of issues in my mind with continuing with Derry–and having started Derry, I think the similarities is the mind block for me.

I got my twenty-one year pin this week at work, which was yet another damn you’re old moment for me. I’ve worked there now for nearly a third of my life (my previous record for a job was five years) and a lot has changed since I went to work part-time at the CAN office of the NO/AIDS Task Force twenty-one years ago–not just for me and the world, but in HIV testing, treatment, and care. Twenty-one years ago we hadn’t reached the ability to achieve undetectable viral loads (making you non-infectious) and PrEP (to prohibit new infections).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you again tomorrow morning. Till then, arrivederci!

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  1. And yes, it bothers me that I cannot remember why it was recommended to me. I guess it doesn’t matter. ↩︎
  2. I love the Brendan Fraser/Rachel Weisz movies so much–but I can’t remember which movie is which! It will be part of my newsletter’s Egypt series. ↩︎

If Anyone Falls

And the holiday has arrived. I slept well last night, and didn’t want to get out from under the covers, which were so incredibly comfortable this morning. I can tell that it’s cold outside my windows as I sit swilling my coffee and chowing down on my coffee cake. I wore tights under my sweat pants all day yesterday and that was very cozy yesterday, too. I should probably run an errand this morning, but I am also thinking it can wait maybe until tomorrow? I don’t know if the groceries are open today–grocery employees should get holidays, too, you know–but it will not hurt me in the least to give it the old college try. Yesterday was a very nice day. I wasn’t tired or achy at all–I usually am good by Sundays of my weekend–and I did manage to get some things done. I worked on the books and made progress, filling up two boxes of donations to take to the library sale this coming Saturday, and there’s at least enough pulled out to fill another box today, too. I did some picking up and cleaning yesterday, and also worked on organizing computer files. I watched some documentaries on French history, caught up a bit on the news (always dreadful) and read for a while, which was a lovely start to getting back into reading again–and I am going to carve out some time this morning for reading, too. Huzzah!

The other day on social media–I don’t recall if it was Bluesky or Threads–but Saeed Jones had discovered the wonders of Maldon brand sea salt and was sharing that information–before moving on to fancy gourmet style butter. I had already discovered the magic of Kerrygold butter (someone talked about regarding tariffs earlier last year, so I got some and was completely sold on this bougie butter), but there were some other brands mentioned that I’d not heard of, so I’d been trying to locate Maldon salt here locally (Rouse’s claimed to have it, but I didn’t find it in either of the two stores I frequent) and some of those bougie butter brands; I was planning on making baked potatoes last night, so I thought why not make them completely bougie? I didn’t find any of the butter brands, but got some more Kerrygold (including a stick of garlic and herb butter!). And yes, the Maldon salt is amazing. I am completely sold on the bougie salt! Now I am thinking of getting some of that pink sea salt they have at Costco…who knew there was fancier salt and butter all this time? Regular salt and butter are, of course, perfectly fine; but yeah, the bougie stuff is pretty damned good. Thanks, Saeed! And they say no good can come from social media! I laugh in their face HA HA HA HA HA!

I also decided to rewatch my favorite episode of Heated Rivalry yesterday–Episode 3, “Hunter,” which is the almost self-contained romance of Scott Hunter and Kip the smoothie barista. This was the episode when I became truly vested in the show, and committed to it emotionally. It was so well written and acted, and their chemistry together was incredible, sweet and intense, and I was in tears by the end of the episode, just as I was when I originally watched it. It’s such an excellent episode, and it definitely left me wanting more when I finished. It was even better on the rewatch, and I caught things I didn’t the first time. (I had seen that people were rewatching the show, and while I certainly can’t commit to the time required to watch the whole thing again, I thought “hey, I can watch this episode again!”) SPOILER: I was absolutely delighted they wound up together after all, with Scott publicly kicking open the closet door. I do hope we see more of Kip and Scott in future seasons! I’ve loved Francois Arnaud in everything I’ve seen him in (The Borgias….sigh. He was so good as Cesare), and this new young actor playing Kip is gorgeous, charismatic, and may even have the best body on the show, which is saying alot.

I also spent a lot of time scribbling free form in my journal yesterday, something I’ve not done in quite a long time. It was nice to let my mind wander and let my hand scribble. I’ll have to look at it again today to see what was running through my mind yesterday while I idly watched my French history documentaries (mostly about Cardinal Richelieu, Louis XIII, and the Thirty Years’ War–I also watched a good one about James I and the Duke of Buckingham). Once we’d had dinner, we finished Seven Dials, which seems to have a different ending, among other things, than what I remembered–but I could very easily be wrong. I’ve always loved the character of Lady Eileen Brent, and maybe that’s why I remember the novel so fondly, but I know for sure I loved The Secret of Chimneys and have reread it numerous times during my Christie era. We then started season two of The Night Manager, which is a lot of fun, and Tom Hiddleston is certainly not a problem for one’s eyesight.

As I mentioned, I did spend some time with The Secret of Hangman’s Inn and the new Eli Cranor, Mississippi Blue 42. The Ken Holt series is one of the highest bars in juvenile mystery series, and probably the hardest boiled of them all. I can’t wait to write about Ken Holt again! Mississippi Blue 42 is set in the wild world of college football, with a pair of FBI agents investigating criminality (paying players). Eli is a terrific writer, his debut Don’t Know Tough was set in the world of high-pressure high school football, and I am way behind on his canon…and spending some time with this book is reminding me of how much I love his work.

And on that note, I should probably get going with my day. I am going to try to be productive, but at the same time I am not going to kill myself getting things done, either. So, have a great day while I head into the spice mines.

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