Nostalgic

Coming around the corner at the library and being greeted by this fellow made me laugh loud enough that I’m sure a librarian would have shushed me, had any been in range.

Working around happy, reasonable, creative people is so awesome. And yes, I was feeling somewhat nostalgic. Good ol’ Clippy, who used to frustrate the fuck out of me by showing up when I didn’t want him, and being nowhere in sight when I did

Running the Canines

This is the sight that greets me if I look away from my desktop while wearing running togs. Lord van der Sploot is doing what he does best, while Miss B simply stares, clearly expectant.

Mum. It is time for the running of the dogs. We are patient, yes, but eventually I will crawl into your lap to remind you that IT IS TIME.

Of course, two minutes outside and Boxnoggin began to pull. He thinks that if we speed up we’ll get out of the rain more quickly. I don’t exactly blame him, he’s a slick-coated fellow and Miss B’s all-weather coat has spoiled us somewhat.

So running with him is just like it used to be with Miss B–a constant battle to get him to stop fucking pulling, dammit. He settles down after a few kilometers and begins working with me and B as a unit, which is the whole point. B needed years before she began settling almost immediately and still pulls sometimes, when she gets Very Excited by the prospect of a Strange Dog.

Now that we’re home and I’m in dry socks, with bonus hot tea, Boxnoggin has settled in his favorite dog bed in the living room. He’ll rotate between there and the couch, according to how damn tired he is and if he thinks there’s a prospect of something interesting happening outside he can bark at. Miss B is sacked out on one of the dog beds in my office, whistle-snoring. She’s an elderly dog now, and needs her rest.

You can also see Boxnoggin’s tail going so hard it blurs, which is a constant. Every day is an adventure as far as he’s concerned. Pets all the time! Snacks! Mealtimes at regular intervals, and treats for easy jobs like sitting down. One gets the idea he thinks this is doggie heaven. He’s even started begging for car rides, now that they include good things like going out for French fries. It used to be he’d shake and drool in the car, probably thinking we were taking him back to the shelter, poor fellow.

I’m hoping he’ll realize soon that he’s home forever, that even if he behaves badly he’s not going anywhere. The poor little guy hates to be alone–and little is a misnomer, he’s become quite portly, what with regular meals; his coat gleams and glistens quite shamefully now. Miss B just rolls her eyes and nips him when he starts getting all worked up thinking he’s going to be taken away. His rather, well, energetic nature keeps B active, trying to stay one step ahead, which was the entire point.

They’re pretty much made for each other, my little control-freak doyenne and her enthusiastic sidekick. B has plenty to do keeping him out of trouble, so much so that I suspect he will keep her alive just to see what happens next.

May it be so. In the meantime, they have naps to accomplish, and my tea is getting cold.

Over and out.

Stovetop Mullet

Tomatillos in front, focaccia dough in the back. It’s like a tasty mullet right on my stovetop.

I’m still working on my tomatillo salsa recipe. Lots of trial and error involved. Tasty, tasty trial and error. I hope your weekend is full of good things, dear Readers, and that you enjoy them to the hilt.

I might even do another batch of focaccia. For research purposes, you understand…

Pure Heaven

Last week my writing partner and I played hooky in Portland, and there was a stop at Everyday Music.

It’s not a bookstore, but it still makes me happy. Got to take your joy where you find it, chickadees.

Enjoy your own weekend, my hoopy froods, and may it have something nice to roll around in…

Finally Meme’d

It’s very warm for March, and you know what that means.

Bees.

I will be heading out to run soon, and I’m sure they’re waiting to crawl into my hair, gonna attempt to nest in my mouth, just can’t stop thinking about putting their feelers in my nose–and all while I’m trying to run.

This is entirely separate from squirrels noticing that when I take Sir Boxnoggin out for walkies or running, he’s tied to my waist and can’t do much more than lunge. Oh yeah, they’ve figured that out, the little arboreal nuisances. Just the other day we came home and a particularly sleek, rotund fellow with a bottle-brush tail zoomed across the driveway, stopping once to flick said tail in Boxnoggin’s general direction. I could swear I heard a tiny guffaw.

That was the same day the Princess informed me that the damn squirrels had been doing reconnaissance up to the front door. “They’re watching us,” she says balefully, at different points through the day. “There was one in the apple tree outside the dining room window, too.”

This does not bode well at all.

In brighter news, I took a picture of the proof copy of the Roadtrip Z omnibus yesterday.

And some fine upstanding soul popped into my feed with this work of art:

I laughed until I couldn’t breathe and the dogs were licking excitedly at my face, my phone, and whatever else they could reach, wondering what the hell.

Finally, I’ve been meme’d. What a time to be alive, my friends. I don’t even mind that today’s run will be full of bees and the dogs will probably try to drag me after a laughing squirrel.

Over and out…

Birthday Month Snowpocalypse

Of course yesterday–the day I had to spend mostly outside the house–was the day it decided to snow. It didn’t accumulate, thank goodness, but the roads got super sloppy and everyone piloting a car was stressed out and consequently a bit wavering. On the bright side, I got through the grocer’s between waves of “OMG WE’RE ALL GOING TO SNOWPOCALYPSE DIIIIIIE” people, and noticed only that the bottled water had been pillaged. There was still plenty of dairy.

Today I can rest a bit. But only a bit, since I have to perform yet more Birthday Month-related things. I also have a run to get in; the dogs need their fidgets worked hard. They get stressed during any excitement; Mum leaving a houseful of guests in their care for hours at a time (well, the Princess was home and entertaining, so the dogs weren’t entirely on their own while performing supervisory duties) has made them Nervous.

I should get out the door if that’s what I’m planning. I was allowed a bit of a lie-in this morning, thankfully dog-free since the Princess came in, set a cup of coffee on my nightstand, and dragged both canines out. For no reason at all, she said, except she thought I’d like it.

I have good kids.

If I can just get through next week, the birthday month craziness should die down and I’ll get a chance to breathe. That will be a lovely change, and I’ll relish it.

The enforced rest has done some good–I’ve been getting research reading in, and that always deepens the worlds I play with. I’m only getting bare wordcount, 200-400 words a day, since most of my energy’s going elsewhere. I get itchy and tetchy when I don’t write, but at least 200 words is a prophylactic measure. I’m only slightly annoyed with the world as a result.

So today is for running, listening to kulning (a new obsession) and being grateful to my Past Self for scheduling subscription stuff so I don’t get home today and have to engage in a scramble to get that done. Hallelujah and thanks, Past Self! I’ve almost forgiven you for that “[[put sex scene here]]” you pulled last week.

Almost

Redo the To-Do

Spent the weekend getting mass-market paperbacks prepped for distribution. That included putting together wrap PDF proofs for the Roadtrip Z books, which reduced me to a crying fit several times early in the game. Now that the learning curve is no longer so steep I want to make pretty wrap covers, but that’s a bridge too far in current circumstances.

So quite a few books will be available in mass-market format very soon. It’s a neat experiment, one I’ve longed to do for quite some time. Vellum‘s new extended proof sizes are awesome; if you’re self-publishing, the program itself is well worth paying full price for.

I do, however, need to reframe my master to-do list. The Roadtrip Z omnibus is packed and stacked (especially in the back, ha ha) and I’m about to start the big push to get the zero of HOOD Season 1 out while still building the internal architecture for The Poison Prince. The latter is kind of a secret, one I’ll let you guys in on when it happens…but it’s 200K of epic fantasy I’ve got to put in enough load-bearing scenes to carry, and then there’s the decision between the portal fantasy and Lightning Bound to make. I know I’ll finish them both, but it’s the matter of when and how I’m worried about. I don’t want to be trying to birth them together; they’re an unholy set of twins.

Then there’s Season 2 of HOOD to consider. Pretty sure it’s only two seasons, mostly because with any fairytale you have to know where to stop. Robin Hood only works under certain conditions, and since I’ve arranged them so carefully it’s incumbent upon me to make sure the story ends in the right place.

Which is going to be a long desperate race for a capital city with stuff blowing up all around our main characters, alliances honored in observance or breach. The practice for that set of scenes is Marah’s Race, and between those two poles the serial will be ordered.

I just have to figure out who’s out on the flats with a long-range weapon playing guardian angel to our Maid Marian during the race, since our Robin Hood will be doing an arms heist with Alan-a-Dale, who is turning out to be the major character. She won’t be the one who changes the most, because she’s comfortable with who and what she is, but she’s definitely the biggest engine and the one with most clearly defined wants at this stage.

Anyway, I also did a Spotify playlist for HOOD. If you want to listen to the music fueling the serial, here it is. Enjoy!

And now it’s time for a run to shake everything out and get the day’s work into proper proportion. I have my fingers in Monday’s throat and I do not intend to let go.

Over and out.