Category: travel

I Miss You

EDITORIAL NOTE: I started writing this Friday morning, but didn’t finish it until this morning.

Friday in Alabama!

Yesterday was an okay day for the most part. I got up feeling pretty rested–good Lord, the bed and blankets are so damned comfortable–and departed for work. I was fine at work all day and was able to get a lot done before I left at noon. I went home, packed, cleaned a little bit, and headed out. There was some traffic around Mobile, but it was a relatively easy drive and I was deeply enjoying listening to Eli Cranor’s Mississippi Blue 42. I stopped at the new Buc-ee’s in Mississippi for gas, and got lunch at Jack’s in Creota, Alabama. I got here about six o’clock, very tired, and hung out with Dad for a while. Today I am driving him over to my aunt’s to help her get things ready at the church for the funeral, before coming back here to get ready myself. I also have to stop somewhere to get the things I forgot to pack (can’t replace my hearing aids charger, so I’ll be going deaf for the service) and I am not sure what the day holds after that. I am waiting for Dad right now to come get me so I can drive him over there. There’s a Walmart here, so I am going to swing by there either this morning or later on today to get some things that I need. Honestly! But everything I forgot was not written down on my packing list, which just goes to show me that the list MUST BE THOROUGH. I woke up several times during the night, but the bed was very comfortable but I think I’ll hit a wall later today, too. I am driving back to New Orleans tomorrow morning, and should be home by the mid/early afternoon.

The funeral service was actually quite lovely, and I met some cousins’ offspring and grandchildren I’d never met before, and saw some other relatives that I see more regularly than, well, I guess never? After the church service we went to the graveside service, which, given it was hot and the sun was out and we were all wearing black dress clothes…well, maybe the preacher might have wanted to consider that before he started talking? But these things—and my relatives—always make me think about church and religion. I’m always so caught off guard by how devoted they are, and how much church is pretty much a routine part of their lives. I’ve always wondered how it felt to believe without doubt, which I’ve never been able to master when I was trying as a teenager. But my sister—who came around eventually-and I weren’t raised in the church, just around it. The beliefs and values of the Church of Christ were installed in us by everyone around us as children, and even when I started going with Mom and my sister when I was in high school, I still wasn’t quite all the way there—even when I was active in the Youth Group, and went three times a week to services and sang the hymns and said amen after every prayer. Religion is really about the fear of death, and the fear of the unknown, I realized at the graveside service, and morbid as it sounds, I don’t think I ever had that powerful fear of death motivating me to believe. I somehow somewhere believed I was going to die young , so it’s quite a jolt sometimes to realize I did grow old.

I have had a lot of close calls, though—but that’s a story for another time.`

I also finished the editing job, too, which turned out to be way more fun than I expected—the material is brilliant—and can’t wait to talk about it more when it’s closer to release. I also worked on my next newsletter last night before going to bed—back to Scotty promo stuff, after all the new subscribers I picked up eulogizing Lauren last weekend—hope they aren’t bored! I’ll probably finish it tonight before bed, revise and edit it Sunday morning, and then send it out. I have chores to do at home, of course; don’t I always? I’ll also have to make a grocery run and order some things to be delivered.

I’m loving my new iPad and its Magic Keyboard, which basically has turned it into a laptop with a touch screen, and I actually like working on it more than my MacBook Air.

SUNDAY

Well, I didn’t quite finish that and get it posted whilst I was out of town, now, did I? I did not. I didn’t sleep great either night in the hotel–I’d forgotten my evening-anxiety-help-me-sleep medications–and so was kind of tired yesterday when I drove down the on-ramp to I-65 South. I made good time, though–a little less than four hours, because I didn’t have to stop anywhere on the way. I was plenty exhausted when I pulled up and parked in front of the house yesterday afternoon. I unloaded the car, ordered lunch to be delivered, and then collapsed into my easy chair. Sparky slept in my lap all afternoon as I watched some more of The Traitors (it was weird not even watching a single episode for several days). But after a little while, my legs were no longer exhausted and tired, so I was able to get up and do the dishes and start the laundry and picking up a bit more around here; I kind of left the place messy. I also have to take inventory and figure out what groceries are needed, so I can either order them for delivery today or stop on the way home from work tomorrow. I have to go uptown to get the mail anyway, so might as well swing by the grocery store, right?

I was greatly enjoying listening to Eli Cranor’s Mississippi Blue 42, and I am going to finish reading it in hard copy today. The drive down was nice, if I was a bit impatient to get home. There really wasn’t much traffic, and I didn’t even get terribly delayed by the infamous I-10 to I-90 ramp. My creativity also amped up yesterday as I was doing chores and watching videos on Youtube about Alabama–you know the type; “Ten Ghost Towns in Alabama” or “Twenty Cool Things You Didn’t Know About Alabama”–and they were really cool and great and interesting, and yes, gave me some ideas. I wish I had more time to take off from work so I can just go exploring, both here in Louisiana and in Alabama; I’d love to visit Moundville near Tuscaloosa again. My aunt took my sister and I there where we were kids, and the only thing I really remember was my aunt bought me a Davy Crockett raccoon skin cap, complete with the bushy tail. I’d also like to see Poverty Point here in Louisiana.

And I want to get back to writing fiction regularly again. I can get started this week, even with the Festivals coming up this weekend (AIEEEE), an of course Paul will be moving into the hotel on Wednesday night, leaving me home alone with Sparky, who will be lonely and feeling abandoned. I also have to be careful to ensure I don’t get worn out, and must reserve my energy. We certainly don’t want a repeat of last year, which resulted in me winding up in the hospital. The two things aren’t related, but my brain associates them together, alas–just like I associate Hurricane Season Hustle with being sick because it happened while I was writing the book.

And on that note, I am going to head over to my easy chair to finish reading Elis book, and figure out what to do with the rest of my day. Have a good one, and I will see you again tomorrow in the morning.

Former collegiate wrestler and now fitness influences @fitnesspeach. I do wonder if Meta will hide this image as “adult content” because a bit of cheek is exposed.

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.

It’s Only Love

Wednesday and halfway through the work week! Huzzah! Yesterday wasn’t terrible. The funeral plans for later this week are cemented and I’ll drive over on Thursday afternoon and back home afterwards on Saturday. I am going to listen to Eli Cranor’s Mississippi Blue 42 in the car going and coming, and then I can finish it off once I get home. Reading progress is reading progress, after all, even if it is listening, after all. I had slept well on Monday night, but I still hit a wall at work yesterday afternoon. I ran by the mail service to get the mail and had some groceries made and delivered, but was very happy to get home and feed the Sparkster, change into my sweats, did a load of dishes, and provide Sparky a warm lap for the evening. I’m still bingeing The Traitors (season 1, Australia, for those keeping track) and went to bed relatively early. I slept gloriously, and Sparky was even cuddled up with me when I woke up without the alarm (I forgot to set it as I climbed into bed last night). I am feeling good this morning so far, and my coffee tastes amazing. I don’t know how cold it is out there–today’s low is 44–but again it’ll be a layers day. I have to pack tonight–it just hit me that I am driving over tomorrow afternoon–when I get home from work. At least this drive isn’t up 59; I-10 to Mobile and then 65 north. I’ve not been this way in eons; the last time was my last book signing or event in Atlanta, whenever that was.

Heavy sigh.

I don’t think I’m going to be terribly busy today with clients at work, which is great because I have a lot of paperwork to get caught up on. I think when I get back on Saturday I won’t have any errands or anything to do that will require my leaving the house; I can always have things delivered, and I can stay home and rest and relax and try to get caught up more on everything. The Festivals are next weekend (!!!) and so I probably won’t get a lot done at all then, either. Where has March gone, seriously? I guess I lost track of days and time during this Traitors binge I’ve been on. Tomorrow I’ll come home before leaving town, so I can load up the car and head out. I should pass through Mobile before rush hour, and once I am on 65 N it will be an easy, simple drive. The drive home should be even easier. Woo-hoo! God, how anxious I used to get when driving out of town! It’s lovely having no travel anxiety any longer.

Then again, I’ve not flown anywhere in several years, have I? And really have no desire whatsoever to set foot on another plane at any other time soon, either. But I do know the last time I flew–I think for San Diego Bouchercon?–I primed myself and refused to get stressed or anxious, and I managed to succeed without the medication I was put on later for it! I do have a rather strong will when I want to, don’t I? I just don’t understand why I have so much trouble motivating myself and always default to being lazy. (Is it being lazy? I used to get yelled at a lot growing up for being lazy, but I was always reading, so maybe in my head I associate reading with being lazy? And since I am not really reading at the moment, I am definitely being lazy. But it’s also nice to relax my brain, too, you know?

I can literally justify or rationalize anything, can’t I?

And on that note–sorry to be so brief, but very little is actually going on at the moment, and my mind is consumed with finishing an editing project and getting ready for this drive tomorrow. I will be here tomorrow, but most likely not again until I get home on Saturday afternoon. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow morning.

BGEast wrestler Mitch Colby

Trouble in Shangri-La

Ah, Shangri-La. That name used to be very much in the zeitgeist when I was growing up; it’s a mythical place, a utopian paradise, a warm, fertile valley hidden in the Himalayas where no one ages, from a book (and two film adaptations) by James Hilton titled Lost Horizon. (In Tibetan Buddhism, I believe it’s called “Shambhala”–also the title of a hit song by the band Three Dog Night1 in the early 1970s.) I saw the original 1937 film version on the late movies when I was a kid, and became fascinated by the story. I read the book (Hilton also wrote Good-bye Mr. Chips) and really liked it, but you also had to suspend some serious belief because there were definitely holes in the story that didn’t make sense that both Hilton and the film’s director simply glossed over and ignored. The movie was remade as a musical in 1973, I think–it bombed and is considered one of the worst movies ever made; I’ve never seen it because I’d heard it was terrible (although I am now thinking it might be fun to do a project watching major Hollywood bombs). Shangri-La used to be a part of the zeitgeist, but it has faded as I’ve gotten older–funny how that happens; like how no one ever talks about the gold in Fort Knox anymore, or quicksand (Hanna-Barbera have a lot to answer for when it comes to the threat of quicksand).

Here we are on Sunday morning and the time changed, which I always hate. Can’t we just do away with Daylight Saving Time? The extra hour in the fall, while appreciated, never makes up for the lost hour in the spring. I had planned to get up early to offset the lost hour, but that didn’t happen and I stayed in bed until nine (eight, really); the bed was comfortable and Sparky was warm and purring, okay? I could have easily stayed in bed a few more hours, but Sparky eventually got hungry so I went ahead and left the comfort of the pile of blankets and made coffee and fed him and here we are, you know? I am about to get another cup of coffee and put some bread in the toaster. I bought a “gourmet” jar of strawberry preserves yesterday, just to see if it really is better than the Smucker’s brand I usually get; I love preserves so much more than jams or jellies, which I think is the result of my parents being from the country, and us bringing home jars of preserves back home with us when we visited Alabama; my grandmothers were queens of canning–the memory of their blackberry preserves makes my mouth water a bit. I do miss that about going to Alabama in the summer–the fresh fruit and vegetables right off the field.

The gourmet preserves are delicious, by the way.

After my late start yesterday, I managed to run my errands and make groceries, and had some things delivered later on once I was home. Paul saw his trainer and rode the bike for a few hours yesterday afternoon, which gave me a chance to do some chores around here (more of them to do today, too). Once the chores were taken care of and I felt a bit tired, I sat down in my chair to finish off season 2 of The Traitors-UK, and I am noticing a pattern with the different casts–your chances of winning are exponentially higher if you’re an attractive younger man; that was Season 2 from beginning to end, with handsome and sweet and young charmer Harry getting rid of at five other traitors (UK’s season 2 is very traitor heavy; they start with three and recruit several times; there were three of them going into the final six! Today I am going to start season three of the UK version; it’s absolutely delightful to get sucked into the show and vested in the players. I also love the challenges, almost more than the game of Faithful v. Traitor, to be completely honest. I really cannot wait to write my essay about the show.

For the record, I am not as familiar with opera as I am with ballet–and even ballet I am not that familiar with, other than I know it’s an incredibly strict discipline that requires years of training and conditioning and rehearsal. What ballet dancers can do with their bodies is astonishing; it’s like figure skating in the way that it’s actually an incredibly difficult and grueling sport made to look like art. Opera is much the same, only it’s vocal and breathing training, and again–the ability to hit and hold those insane notes requires dedication and devotion and hours and hours of training. Dismissing these art forms as whatever it was the clown prince of the Kardashians called them this week, which was pretty ballsy for someone making a career in the arts and coming from a dance family. It was very tone-deaf for someone who likes to paint himself as some sort of renaissance man, but I also think he’s kind of been reading his own notices and his current mistress comes from the most narcissistic family that has ever lived–so we also can’t rule out the negative influence of the plastic she-thing he sleeps with. I’ve no desire to see his latest movie, and I sincerely doubt he gave a performance as excellent and layered as the dual role Michael B. Jordan played in Sinners.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow as I make my way into the spice mines!

  1. They dropped the “h,” though, calling it “Shambala.” ↩︎

Alice

Iris Saturday, and it’s sunny with blue skies outside my windows this morning. It was a beautiful day. yesterday. I ran my errands after my meeting before coming back home and working until it was time for me to call it a day and start doing things around here. I did get the laundry finished, and the dishwasher is running (I meant to run it overnight but forgot), and the apartment is a bit of a mess, but I am taking today off from worrying about doing anything other than maybe doing some cleaning. Today is also the anniversary of Mom’s death (it’s been three years already) and I hate not being able to meet Dad up in Alabama this weekend, but that was just how everything shook out. I hate that she died on Valentine’s Day and Carnival always is around that dark anniversary, too.

Well, I guess I could just say I hate that she died.

I did watch Ilia Malinin and the men’s figure skating yesterday, and my heart broke a bit for the young man…and the pressure and everything is precisely why they should have sent him to Beijing four years ago instead of replacing him in the spot he earned for Jason Brown. (Don’t get me wrong, I do love Jason and his skating, but strategically it was an incredibly stupid self-inflicted wound by US Figure Skating. Congrats, how did that bad decision work out for everyone? I said it was a mistake at the time and got swarmed by Jason’s fans–hope you’re all happy!) I also remember that the same thing happened to Nathan Chen at his first Olympics, too, in 2018, before he won gold in 2022. And there are any number of great figure skating icons with no gold medal–and some with no Olympic medal at all. But Ilia handled the enormous disappointment with incredible sportsmanship and grace; amazing for a twenty-one year old with every camera lens in the world on him. I’m still incredibly proud of him and he still has an incredibly bright future–and there’s also no reason he can’t do another two Olympics, either. (Still bitter about the ice dance robbery.)

And how wonderful for that young man from Kazakhstan, Mikhail Shaidorov, who came out of nowhere and won the gold medal. What a delightful Olympic moment! It was fun whenever they’d cut over to him after someone’s score was posted and he was still in first place and it would hit him–I was pulling for him to medal, and the progression of watching him was this: Oh my God I’m getting an Olympic medal to oh my God I’m getting the silver medal to holy shit, I won the Olympics. I hope this means a secure financial future of touring and doing shows and so forth.; his life changed forever yesterday for the better. That’s one of the things I love about the Olympics, you know? Someone can go from being a nobody to a global superstar in one day.

We watched the LSU-Auburn Gymnastics meet last night, and after a wobbly-seeming start (to me) they roared back to the highest score of the season for any team and they left points on the board on several routines. The floor exercise was insane; the lowest score, the one they dropped? 9.925! They tied a school record on the floor exercise rotation and I’ve never seen such stuck landings from forward tumbling in my years of watching gymnastics, going back to Munich in 1972.

I also made notes on some short stories I am working on; my mind was kind of scattered yesterday; I didn’t even realize yesterday was Friday the 13th! It was a nice relaxing day of trying to get rested for today’s Iris parade so I can be out there for as long as I can. I doubt I’ll make it to Tucks; and I am not walking down to Harmony Circle for Endymion; I’ve not seen Endymion in years. I may wonder out tomorrow to check out Thoth and maybe take some pictures of the crowd–Thoth is very popular, as is Bacchus tomorrow night–but will most likely spend the day doing things around here.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines to read for a bit before I get cleaned up and Iris arrives. See you tomorrow!

Fitness instructor and swimsuit/underwear model Dave Rich of the UK. Pretty face, too.

If We Make It Through December

Sunday, as we slowly transition from Yule season into Carnival, and I have to go back to the office tomorrow. Paul is coming home sometime today–I can’t find his flight schedule, but he usually comes back late in the evening; I may even go to bed before he gets home. Some greeting, right? But I have to get up at six tomorrow morning, he knows that, so I won’t worry about that now. I’ll see him after work when I get home from the office. I didn’t do a whole lot yesterday; I did some chores and ran a couple of errands (it was gorgeous yesterday) and when I got home, wasn’t terribly motivated to do much of anything. I did keep doing some cleaning and organizing and filing at various intervals throughout the day, but there’s still a lot to get done this morning/today. I feel more awake and alive this morning than I did yesterday; perhaps the drinks on Friday night and the walking did wear me out a little bit, even though I wasn’t expressly fatigued. My batteries were a little low, is all. I also have to be careful not to overdo anything because I feel better, you know? I also partly blame it on Sparky, who wanted to sleep in my lap all day, the sweet boy.

I also need to make a new to-do list.

It was surreal yesterday to check in and do my morning blog post and then check the news to see that “Donald the dove” (right, Maureen Dowd? How do you show your face in public, you tragically evil and clearly shameless hateful piece of shit?) had started a war all by himself! And people want to forgive his voters for being conned? No thank you–I’ll carry those grudges to the fucking grave. I am completely incapable of feeling empathy (and I am very empathetic) for the people who joyfully and gladly voted for every last bit of this agenda. Oh no, miss me with your “I didn’t vote for this.” Yes, you fucking did, and you mocked everyone who tried warning you before hand. Where are all those people who told me I was overreacting in 2016? In 2024? You deserve to be reminded of your gleeful ignorance and hateful disrespect every fucking day for the rest of your fucking lives. I sure as fuck didn’t vote for any of this bullshit, yet have to deal with it because YOU wanted to “own the libs.”

NO ONE IS LAUGHING NOW. HAPPY? No? Ever heard the phrase “you reap what you sow”? Well, now you’re reaping what you sowed and you don’t seem very happy with it. Live with the shame and utter humiliation of your public ignorance and stupidity, and you get no sympathy or pity from me–and there will certainly be no forgiveness ever coming from me.

Hope you kept your diapers, ear tampons, and golden shoes! Hillary was only wrong in underestimating how many of you were deplorable pieces of shit. Although, there is something almost comically ironic about the fall of the United States’ experiment in democracy coming from the small hands of an uneducated bigoted pedophile rapist. Well done, white people, well done.

And yet I still have high hopes that this will, all evidence to the contrary, be a good year. I feel weird about that, to be honest; how can I feel positive about the future in the face of all evidence to the contrary? It feels weird to be feeling good about myself and my life, making plans (tentative, as so much is out of my control) and just in general being happy and pleased with myself? I think I have one more year to stay away from conferences and so forth, to continue working on myself and my work and shaping up everything in the directions I want to take, before I return again to the wild world of mystery conferences. I think Bouchercon is in DC for 2027, and so I will probably go to that.

I did watch a lot of videos on Youtube yesterday–some historical stuff (the Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt; Cleopatra’s sister1; the Valois dynasty of France), some interviews and reviews of Heated Rivalry, and sports “commentators” on the collapse of Alabama in the play-offs, or the SEC “not being what it was.” I also don’t–and have never–understood the mentality of “my conference is better than yours” arguments; they are pointless beyond any metric beyond winning the championships. The Big Ten has won two in a row, and could be winning a third in a row this year, with three different schools. That’s impressive, indeed. Of course, the SEC did that from 2007-2010 with four different schools…but that’s also the past. One of the biggest problems I have always seen with college football is the polls–because being a brand name is the most important thing with the polls. Ohio State was number one for how long, and how long was Indiana ranked behind them, only for Indiana to beat them? Indiana isn’t a brand like Ohio State or Alabama–although that may be changing now. Preseason polls are meaningless now, just like any polls before the playoff rankings and any bowl game that isn’t a part of the playoffs–which is why you cannot look at bowl results as a metric of conference strength. Many players opt out of the bowl games now because they are meaningless, so bowl teams are often not the same team from the season. Toxic fandom is just another phase of toxic masculinity–and women can be as bad, if not worse, than men.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich and see what all is going on in the world today, before I get back to work on cleaning.

  1. Arsinoë IV has always been of interest to me, as was Cleopatra’s older sister Berenice. ↩︎

She’s In Love With The Boy

Tuesday morning, New Year’s Eve Eve, as it were, and Paul is leaving today to visit his family. I don’t much care for it when he isn’t home; maybe the first day or two are kind of nice and quiet and peaceful, but it starts getting on my nerves after a couple of days. It’s also amazing how empty the house seems when he’s out of town. Although, I suppose one day it might be something I’ll have to get used to? I will cross that proverbial bridge when I get to it. So, I will come home to an empty house tonight, and Sparky will glue himself to me for the next six days. There are worse things, I suppose, than cat cuddles on cold nights, and having a little tortie shadow following me around and never letting me out of his sight. I’m glad I only have to work tomorrow–Friday is my work-at-home day still–because he will be very traumatized when I get home after work tomorrow. He’ll not be so bad tonight–he won’t miss Paul until he doesn’t come home tomorrow at all. He really is the sweetest boy, and I’ll have to give him a lot of attention.

Which I do not mind in the least.

I found out yesterday that one of my dearest friends (and biggest supporters) passed away a few weeks ago. She’d been ill for a long time, so I hadn’t seen her in quite some time, because she had low energy and heart issues, and I am a lot (I am). I had actually thought the other day about her and how we needed to get over there to catch up and say hello…too little too late. Heavy sigh. The worst part of getting older is losing loved ones to the angel of death. That was the part I never thought about; I guess I was assuming everyone I loved would outlive me.

Apparently, that’s not going to be the case and I’ll probably wind up living to a hundred. Which would be just my luck, you know? I just keep going on and on, shouting at clouds and forgetting what I went into the kitchen for. Hurray. But I will miss her terribly. Oh, how hard she could make me laugh! And so incredibly smart, too; I loved talking to her about books and movies and television shows we enjoyed. She was a huge mystery fan, as well as holding a PhD in History (I’d jokingly call her “Doc” every once in a while, which she hated–I don’t know why I enjoy teasing people so much; I should probably stop).

Sigh.

But with Paul gone, I can watch some things I’ve been pushing off but meaning to get around to–my re-watch of the Brendan Fraser Mummy movies comes to mind–and there’s no excuse for not being able to get back into reading extensively again. I’m enjoying the two books I’ve started, but am not making much progress. My Noirmas was a complete bust, but I did get to reread The Postman Always Rings Twice, and I have some essays to finish for the newsletter. Noirmas is technically not over until Twelfth Night, January 6th, so I have time to get some of these other choices read before starting my next reading project, whatever it might be. Maybe some non-fiction? I’ve got some awesome non-fiction books on hand; maybe I should dig into those? Nonfiction February? That could be a winner, and I can then extend Noirmas through January.

I also am not certain why I am so focused on projects, but it makes me happy, so there’s that.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely New Year’s Eve Eve, Constant Reader and I shall be back on the last day of 2025!

I really hate his bikini….but the rest is nice, isn’t it?

East Bound and Down

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well and peaceful. I have fed His Majesty, Tuglas MacSparkle, and he went back upstairs to cuddle in bed with Paul. Yesterday was a very nice day; I got my work done, as well as a lot of chores. I had groceries delivered, picked up the mail, and then relaxed into my evening. We got caught up on South Park (oh my GOD1), Heated Rivalry, and finished Death by Lightning before moving on to the latest Knives Out movie, Wake Up Dead Man, which referenced the works of John Dickson Carr (whom I have not read). I also watched a documentary on the French House of Valois, which was very interesting. All were thoroughly enjoyable, too. These Benoit Blanc mystery movies are so much fun, so cleverly written and filmed, and there’s always some pithy commentary on a social issue–in this one, religion and power–which doesn’t hit you over the head with a sledgehammer, but are there if you’re paying attention. The acting is also fantastic; Daniel Craig is terrific as Benoit, and Josh O’Connor is terrific as the main suspect, a compassionate priest confronted with a toxic parish led by a toxic churchman. I also slept really well last night, too–and His Majesty let me sleep later than usual, which was also very nice. Thanks, Sparky!

I do enjoy being rested, you know? I also need to do some reading and things this morning while I do some more chores. I need to get the dishwasher unloaded, the floors done, and some other filing and so forth finished. I also need to work on writing, too. I want to finish The Postman Always Rings Twice reread; the month is almost half over and I’ve done so little for Noirmas that it’s kind of sad. Maybe I’ll rewatch something classic this morning, or after Paul goes off to his trainer; there’s no football today, after all. I think I have both In a Lonely Place and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers on the Hulu DVR; either of which would work. Or perhaps some 1980s neo-noir? You can never go wrong with Body Heat or Masquerade, after all, or some of those other unsettling films from the 1980s.

But I also have to decide whether I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend or not; next weekend would be too late, of course, and I have to send Dad his gift in the mail–which is more of a joke gift, but it should make him laugh, and that’s what matters.

I also want to start paring things down again. Another sweep through the books, a box from the attic, and straightening and reorganizing the pantry and my cabinets and the refrigerator. I also am going to be working on gathering my Chlorine notes, so I can review them all and start sketching out the story and figuring out my characters and who they are and making it slick and tight. Obviously, the first draft will not be done by the end of the year, which is what I was hoping for, but time has this nasty habit of slipping through my fingers lately. (And by lately, I mean the last twenty years.) I already feel like this morning is slipping away from me already, too. Those kinds of thoughts used to lead to anxiety spirals, and no, I do not miss those horrible spirals in the least. They were exhausting, really; anxiety spirals always led to adrenaline bursts which inevitably left me exhausted and worn out and tired to the bone; like driving to Kentucky. This last time was wonderful. I wasn’t in the least bit concerned about getting there as fast as I could, didn’t worry about losing time, and recognized that the time driving was actually out of my control–traffic is something I am, and always will be, at its mercy–and as such, no adrenaline spikes and no anxiousness and no utter exhaustion when I finally arrived. It’s nice to be able to relax and listen to a book as I drive through the deep South.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, another piece of coffee cake, and repair to my easy chair to read for a moment before getting cleaned up and my day started. It does look really nice out there; perhaps today I can take a walk around the neighborhood? We’ll have to see. Anyway, it’s off to the spice mines with me for the day; may your day be whatever you wish it to be. I’ll be back again on the morrow.

Sexy, yes–but I can’t help but wonder if there are body parts in that bag for some reason.
  1. The fact that MAGA and Fox are pretending that the show isn’t viciously skewering this administration tells me that it’s definitely getting under their skin and scoring direct hits. ↩︎

Drink a Beer

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! It’s supposed to rain heavily and be cold all through the weekend, which means trying not to leave the house that often. But..it should be cozy for cuddling with Sparky and blankets and reading, and I do have a lot of reading to do. Conference championship games are this Saturday, and I don’t really care about any of them. They really are kind of pointless with the play-offs and the goofy no divisions in major conferences any more, so yes–chores and reading and writing are my goal for the weekend. I think I am going to make potato leek soup, or white bean chicken chili–its the perfect time of year for that kind of sustenance. I love soup weather. Dad and I had lunch at a chili place in Kentucky, which was a very pleasant surprise. Paul doesn’t like red chili, though, but I can most definitely make some white bean chicken chili. One nice thing about this cold spell–Sparky has taken to sleeping in the bed with us all night, rather than just sleeping in my desk chair or the bed we have for him by the fireplace (he wouldn’t use it upstairs) and coming up in the mornings before my alarm goes off. He sleeps in a puddle by my feet, but when Paul’s here alone when its cold, he cuddles with Paul and sleeps beside his pillow.

I’m feeling a bit tired this morning, but I forgot to set my alarm and woke up at the right time anyway, which was nice. My hips ache a little bit, and my body could happily return to the pile of blankets and the warmth of my bed. Tomorrow I get to work at home and go to. meetings in the morning, but in the late morning/early afternoon I have doctors’ appointments so will need to use some sick time, I guess. That’s fine, too. We’re going to Costco tomorrow after all the appointments, which is terribly overdue. I think I’ll make that chili this weekend for sure. It’s also nice to support Costco, because of all the DEI and worker-friendly policies and the current lawsuit against the criminal administration and its horrific policies. I got some Christmas presents in the mail that I’d ordered as well on the way home yesterday. I was terribly tired when I got home last night, but I finished the laundry and put away the dishes. I still have a sink full of dishes to deal with when I get home tonight, but I also am hoping that I won’t just be so tired I’ll go straight to my chair and the news. We started watching a CNN documentary last night–New Orleans Soul of the City, the first episode dealing with the city’s food culture. It was interesting and informative, especially since I am in the process of starting a new Scotty, too. There are three more episodes, too.

We’re going to be a bit busy today in the clinic, and I am working by myself, which is okay. I am current on all my administrative work, and I think the appointments end in the mid-afternoon, so I have time to get caught up on today’s work before coming home. Huzzah! I so much prefer to be caught up on everything by the end of the week, so I can go in on Monday with nothing hanging over my head. I am not surprised I am worn down this morning–I mean, I drove almost twenty four hours last week–and I think it’s cool that I made it through this week without experiencing exhaustion or fatigue. Huzzah!

I also want to get caught up on the newsletter. I have reviews of both the Hiaasen and King novels to write, and I also need to dig into The Postman Always Rings Twice–it’s very short, and shouldn’t take me long to revisit it. I worked on gathering everything Chlorine-related some more last night, which entails finding all my notes in my journals over the years. Ideally, Saturday I can do chores, make the chili, read the book, and finish gathering everything so that Sunday morning I can start serious work on this first draft. I think I never got past the third chapter because subconsciously I was aware that what I started didn’t work and wouldn’t work as I wrote more, which would mean going back and redoing, and I hate that kind of thing. Better to catch it now before it involved a shit ton of unraveling, right? I also think I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend–but we’ll see how that goes, won’t we?

I also think my creativity has been in overdrive these last couple of months because I am getting ready to commit to writing another book–and now that I am focusing in on what I want to write, that all-over-the-place creativity is beginning to hone in, which is also super-cool.

And on that note, it has started raining so I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a glorious Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be here bright and early before my meeting tomorrow!

An artist’s rendering of a very sexy Egyptian god Anubis, who was my favorite, along with Bastet, in the Egyptian pantheon.

Hurtin’ (on the Bottle)

Monday morning and back to the spice mines with me this morning.

Well, the office, at any rate.

It’s very chilly in the Lost Apartment on this first day of December, which also means it’s the start of my Noirmas Season project. Huzzah!1 I also slept deeply and well yesterday, after a day of rest and not really doing a lot. I was very low-energy yesterday, which didn’t surprise me. I’ve always been tired the day after driving home from Kentucky, which is why I always have given myself a free day before I have to go back to the office. So being low-energy wasn’t a “still not well completely” reaction, but rather a normal one, which was an enormous relief. Sparky was also very needy all day yesterday, sleeping in my lap or insisting I go sit in my chair to provide a lap for him–he’s so sweet. He was kind of distant at first when I got home, too, but eventually forgave me and starting showering me with attention. But yes, I spent most of yesterday in my easy chair too tired to read, and watching news videos and getting caught up on everything I’d missed while on that Internet sabbatical I took. I had to clean out an unbelievable amount of emails, and I also have a lot to read and respond to at some point this week.

The coaching carousel finally stopped spinning yesterday, with Tulane’s coach going to Florida and a directional Florida university’s coach going to Auburn, with the big story of the day being Lane Kiffin deciding to leave Mississippi in the lurch and come to LSU. (Mississippi elevated their defensive coordinator to head coach–not interim, but head coach.) There was a lot of negativity about this, as there should have been. He is leaving his team with a 11-1 record and a play-off birth, so their fans are pretty bitter and angry2. Mississippi hasn’t had a shot at contending for a national title since at least 2003, and they made the 12 team play-offs before LSU, which no one would have thought possible as recently as five years ago. I’m ambivalent about the whole situation, to be honest. Mississippi fans have a right to be angry and they also have a right to hate him; he left them in the lurch before the play-offs to go to an archenemy. LSU-Mississippi is a trophy game every year, and they hate us and have for decades. The difference between this hire and the Brian Kelly hire back in 2021 is that Louisiana seems to have instantly embraced Kiffin, whereas Kelly was never completely accepted, and even after winning the division in his first season–a good start–LSU never saw that level of success again. I’m willing to give Kiffin a chance, just as I was willing to give Kelly (someone I didn’t like or respect) a chance. He did a great job at Mississippi–not an easy task–and three consecutive ten win seasons there is nothing to sneeze at. LSU is a brand (more on that later) much more so than Mississippi, with no disrespect intended; it’s just a fact. An undefeated LSU team, for example, will always be ranked higher than an undefeated Mississippi team–which is completely unfair–but that’s how this all seems to work these days. (Miami and Notre Dame, for example, have the same record but Notre Dame is ranked higher–and Miami beat Notre Dame. Your guess is as good as mine.)

Yesterday morning I finished listening to Fever Beach, and have lots of thoughts about it. It reminded just how important it actually is for funny writers to use their talents to skewer and satirize politicians and the state of the country. I have wondered myself about how much of the current world situation I should put into my Scotty books, and if so, how to handle it. My readers, of course, probably are more left than right; I cannot imagine how anyone could read that series and believe Scotty and his family are conservatives. I don’t remember if Fever Beach was considered controversial when it was published, and once it got started I wasn’t sure how I felt about it and the approach he was taking, but once I started laughing out loud (which happened quite a few times while listening) and got into the spirit of the thing. Mocking them is really the best way to handle them–and really, we should have never stopped calling them weird last summer.

We also finished watching the John Wayne Gacy series, Devil in Disguise, which was incredibly well done. I appreciated the focus on the families and loved ones on the victims, along with the trial stuff and backstory. This, Ryan Murphy, is how you do a serial killer mini-series. You don’t glamourize the killer. We then watched a documentary called The Carman Family Murders, which was interesting, sad, and horrifying all at the same time. (I think we’re going to make Sundays our “true crime documentary” nights.)

Tonight after work I need to make some groceries and order some to be delivered (or maybe I can order them all for delivery? Hmmm). I need to put the dishes away and finish the load of laundry I started last night (fluff and fold is all that’s left to do). I need to clean out my inbox and start thinking more about working on Chlorine. I also got the edits for new Scotty I have to get done, and I have another chore to do as well.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow!

  1. Note to self: find my copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice tonight. ↩︎
  2. Again, who can blame them? There are people in Louisiana who’ve never forgiven Nick Saban for returning to college football at Alabama. ↩︎