Saturday, August 27, 2022

getting ripped

I finally experienced the rite of passage for female weightlifters: I popped a shoulder seam on my shirt.

Women’s shirts are not make for significant upper body muscle. Once we start to develop muscle in our pecs, lats, delts, biceps, and triceps, the women's cut shirts with the cute capped sleeves get tight, and then it give way at the weakest seam.

So I carefully deployed a seam ripper… wait, no, couldn’t find mine. So I grabbed the lovely hand-forged damascus knife that was an anniversary present from Calmer Half several years ago, and used it as a seam ripper to remove the sleeves to make a tank top.

Fittingly, the shirt has a line drawing of a feline all curled up, with:

I don’t want to adult today.
I don’t even want to human.
Today, I want to cat.

Sounds about perfect for someone who works swing shift lifting heavy things too bloody early in the morning, eh?

May you all find time to cat, and your own sunbeam.

Saturday, August 20, 2022

Shopping, not Buying

The Farmer's Market in Itchy Paw Falls recently had a large number of vendors split ways with its old location, so this morning I met up with two friends to check out who decided to move to the new location. 

Some days, you go shopping with Serious Intentions and a list to buy. 

Some days, there's mochas and strawberry lemonade popsicles and salsa and a sticker of an armed kewpie doll (glock in a shoulder holster) and a little ceramic whistle that sounds like a song bird...

One of the candle vendors had been next to CV Walter when she was selling her books at the art walk. When we checked out his booth (first time he & CV had seen each other since then), he had a new candle based on her books. Cross-pollination happens in the arts! How cool is that?

We also met a friend's kid, who is now an adult and an artist in her own right, holding down her own table. Which was another layer of fun, because first, we weren't expecting to see her there - we'd been referred by another vendor as "you've got to check her art out" and "She's cool." Second, because this meant four artists could stand there and talk shop about table rents and intellectual property and markets... And walk away having bought stickers she made, because we really liked them! (And now I have an easy and clear identification mark on my new laptop.)



We briefly lost Cedar Sanderson when we hit a table selling botanical things... It wasn't the dried flower wreaths, the floral bath bombs, or even hibiscus sugar, which I found really intriguing (I've seen vanilla-doped caster sugar for dusting the tops of pastries and cocktails, but never hibiscus-doped caster sugar before.) No, it was the vintage botanical being used as a prop for the goods. Next thing you know, she and the vendor are geeking out about old herbals and other antique botanical books and where they've found them... 

Given that I had stopped to have a conversation about what blooms at what time of the year and how much you had to hold back in the supers for overwintering a hive in TX vs. North Carolina with one of the local apiaries, I just stood back and grinned. Okay, and egged CV Walter into getting a little ceramic whistle that sounds like a songbird. 

Because cat harassment!

Friday, July 29, 2022

Want something new to read?

If you liked the other things I wrote, you might like this. It's not so much a romance, really, as it is about the problems that come after the happily ever after. Like meeting the family that he doesn't talk to, and finding out that there's more than one feud going on. It's about finding out the hard way that when you've been out defending the homeland, and not being there, home changes until it isn't home anymore, and the people there become strangers with a shared history in the thirty years Between Two Graves.



Of course, there are a couple firefights as well, because it's me. 

The blurb:

He swore he wouldn't be back while his parents lived...

Now, almost thirty years later, AJ is going home.

Ordered to attend his mother's funeral in the rugged northern border of the Empire, AJ is baring old wounds to his new wife, and burying familial feuds.

But the past won't die that easily, and grave secrets will threaten all the survivors and the women they love. Because the Feds are after AJ's unwanted inheritance...

And they're willing to risk a war to get their hands on it.

Currently available in ebook, print edition to follow very shortly (I accidentally introduced a formatting error and it spread. The cleanup to get chapters and page numbers to agree is tedious, and I love my detail-oriented husband very, very much for all the assistance he's giving on this.)

Saturday, July 23, 2022

All bank angle and speed

 As below, so above...

This morning, there was a swarm of gnats hovering above the front yard like a bait ball of feeder fish. Unfortunately for them, they were swarming directly in the approach path the barn swallows use to get to their nest on my front porch.

The air was full of flashing wings zooming in and out like dolphins taking out the bait ball, right outside my front window. 

And Ashbutt-cat in the windowsill was losing his everloving fluffy little mind...

It did not get better when I opened the window so he could hear the excited twittering of birds maintaining comms for situational awareness and coordination. No, it got worse. Much worse. 

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Formative books of my childhood

The subject came up, yesterday, of formative books from childhood. Everybody usually has one or two they can think of... I promptly went and pulled my favorite off the shelf, because it has been following me around all these years. 

Yes, Dad gave this to me when it was brand new. See the publication date. 

Yeah, that might explain a thing or two about how I turned out...

Love you, Dad. And thanks.

Saturday, July 2, 2022

When did I turn into my grandmother?

 ...So, I'll have you know there were reasons.

But yes, yes, I did just feed a small child Blue Bell ice cream and pineapple chunks for breakfast.
Peanut Butter Chocolate Overload flavour.

...with a little vanilla to stretch it, in case her brother also wanted ice cream and pineapple chunks for breakfast.

You see, one of her parents was still crashed out in the guest bedroom, and the other was getting precious introvert alone time on my back porch, while her brother was still al imp towheaded bundle on the couch.

Besides, they'd been asked, when they came in wearily after the Very Long Roadtrip, if they wanted ice cream now (after dinner), or later.

Breakfast absolutely counts as later!

A wave of confusion

 You know, I know better. I do it anyway.

Yes, I wrote a story involving radiation when I have friends who are actual nuclear scientists and military what worked with the stuff. The level of detail and analysis brought to bear on those scenes may resemble using a sledgehammer to swat a fly, but I am grateful for their input.

Unfortunately, getting steeped in the difference and the types of emissions from various sources with examples leaves me looking at a post talking about men in romance genre and going "alpha males? Very weak, can be stopped by a thick skin? Beta males are stronger, more likely to affect the heroine, but why do we stop there? She's not going to get knocked off her feet by a gamma male?"