Chronic pain and comfort food

So, yesterday was not a good day. My butt cheeks still hurt from planting garlic. Who knew that crouching that long was such a workout? The 90km/hr winds (55 m/hr US) tore up the storage tent we had put up exactly 30 hours previously. And it was cold and rainy all bleeding day!

So my hip and head were hurting as well as my butt. LOL, the minions have totally ruined me for the word butt. I can’t even say butt roast anymore without giggling like a 12 yr old.

And my spayed cat is acting like she’s in heat. Murbling and purring, wanting her butt (hee hee, butt) scratched, and offering her tummy for tickles. Do NOT tickle the tummy, it’s a trap!

Thank gods for my instant pot!  I tossed in frozen chicken, some frozen veggies and broth and an envelope of GF gravy mix.  Instant (well (40 min total) chicken stew.  Comfort food for a blustery day. I added GF dumplings but they didn’t work. They were more like spaetzle than dumplings. I shall try again! I shall not be denied my chicken and dumplings!  It was probably my fault, I didn’t time them. And science is much more important when everything is GF.

In the meantime, I’m still trying to get my store up and running. Does it work yet? Who knows? I can’t tell from this end anymore.  Between my awesome little Cannabis oil capsules that look like vitamin D, and the headache from the low-pressure system….

And tomorrow is Nano!!!!!  I need some encouraging words.

 

The Tax Journal will be ready for Can-Con!

I finished the tax journal for authorpreneurs today!

I had promised people that it would be ready for Can-Con, and it will be. Barring printer problems, idiots at customs and so forth, of course.

I don’t have a table at Can-Con, so I’ll have a few in my bag and a box in my room, just stop me and ask. Unless you have a table and are willing to share a corner.  🙂

I don’t have my final printing costs yet, so I don’t know what I’ll be charging. But I can spare a buck or two to a vendor who saves me the effort.

Now, this is a journal specific to Canadian taxes. Is there interest in a general writer’s bullet journal? It would be prettier but have much the same functionality. Fewer tax points, but more space for general journaling and story ideas.

Excitement abounds!

First off, Today is my birthday!
I got THE BEST quilting/ sewing/ embroidery machine ever!  It not only has the embroidery hoop and about a hundred pre-programmed stitches, you can add stitches from jpgs!  My old sewing machine, a lovely, easy to use, basic model will be going to a friend. She needs a well behaved machine.

I also got tickets to see Melissa Etheridge tomorrow night! One of my absolute favourite musicians, and we have VIP tickets! Table service, food, booze… a night to remember.

So far today, FB has sent me 95 birthday wishes! I always hope for 100, a nice round number.  🙂

And next week (July 11th) is Amazon Prime day!! As you know (or maybe not) I have an associate store which is not yet phased out, I think.  Let me check that, BRB…
Yup, it’s there!
So I will link to items related to my posts, like books, instant pot, nifty kitchen gadgets… hopefully they will all be on sale for prime day! And if you take a 30 day free Prime trial, I get a small referral fee and you get in on awesome prices. I got the $120 instant pot for $65 a couple years ago.

<iframe src=”//rcm-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/cm?o=15&p=12&l=ur1&category=prime&banner=11DGT95WVFBYZ5V8GBR2&f=ifr&linkID=b078d4eeddc5d6a56a1f43ddd95135ae&t=leaedgofcha-20&tracking_id=leaedgofcha-20″ width=”300″ height=”250″ scrolling=”no” border=”0″ marginwidth=”0″ style=”border:none;” frameborder=”0″></iframe>

“We are a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.”
Buying things through this site costs you nothing extra and I get a small referral fee.

Here, there and everywhere

The next few weeks, or months, will be crazy busy around here.  That probably means my 2x a week blogging schedule will get even more screwed up than usual.

Thursday, I’m in town until 9pm for a writers group. Friday we leave for Ad Astra.  Get home Sunday late at night, and I should go to a different writers group Monday, but let’s be honest, even with the wheelchair all weekend, I’ll be in NO shape for a day in town.

The following weekend, we leave for 2 weeks for my Mom’s wedding.  It’s so cute! She’s 80 and he’s 70, and she thinks she’s a cougar, a cradle robber!

We get back just before the long weekend on the 21st of May, and have a birthday event to go to, then a few days off before the book fair (I’m on the organizing committee and in charge of registration). The next weekend is a charity event, the next is a wedding, then there’s a festival I’m in….

I’ll post when I have both time and brain function, but realistically…. expect to return to regular blogging in the fall.

Amazon store are up! Also, a newsletter, maybe.

My own Amazon store, selling MY books, things I blog about, interesting stuff, you name it. Seriously, tell me what you want me to carry, I’ll put it in the store and send you a link.

I’ve also set up a newsletter app that I have to figure out how to use. It’s on my front page for you to sign up, but I have no clue how to do my end. That is, actually send out a newsletter. But I will eventually, I swear.

As Samantha would say, I’m such an idiot.  But I have enough work to keep me busy today, which is great since my darling man has karate and won’t be home until late.

So I work on my high fantasy novel, saving the damsel in distress so she can become a thorn in the villain’s side. Except she saves herself, and he turns out to be lost not evil. Well, not compared to his sister!

I’m also busy on a steampunk romantic-mystery crossover for Eighth Ripple Press.  It’s such fun!  All swooning over chocolate brown eyes.  🙂

And in more frustration, the Corvid Moon page is stuck. I log in, hit build website, it wants me to buy the website. I already paid for it and have a receipt.  Gods, I hate calling help lines. They never seem to actually listen to me.

Well… that was dumb.

I just spent all day trying to get the verification email from my web-host so that I could help set up another author’s website under Corvid Moon Publishing. Because, ya know, more authors equals more money to pay the web-host.

Hours of frustration, searching for hidden folders it might have gone to for unexplainable reasons and guess what?

I typed in my email address wrong. After 14 years of owning that address, I did it wrong.

So it turned out that I couldn’t “change” the email address until I verified the first one. Le sigh…  I hate help lines.

But there was no help for it, it had to be fixed on their end. And SURPRISE!!!  After I remembered my PIN, it was painless.  Now I have to wait up to an hour for the change to be implemented. THAT will be hard.

Adventures with Jules Verne

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Jules “Underfoot” Verne, my new cat. The underfoot is a great description of her favourite place while I’m walking. Jules is often a nickname for Juliette, and since Warehouse 13 had a female HG Wells….

Poor Jules Verne, she’s had a hard life up to now.  I am something of a cat whisperer, so I was able to figure out her short history.

From my Facebook page “I have figured out most of Jules’ back story. She is less than 6 months old, got pregnant in her first heat. She was dumped on the road near the barn 1-2 weeks ago. She had her litter but they were either stillborn or died soon after.
How did I know? She’s clearly a house cat. Litter trained, very friendly and ok with other cats. She’s skinny but not starved looking. She eats every scrap of cat food the second you put the dish down. So out on her own long enough to be seriously hungry but not quite starving. She’s deliriously happy to have found people. Definitely a tame cat who misses her home. If she was lost, she could track her way back.

It took 2 days for her dugs to fill with milk. So she’s not currently feeding kittens but was less than a week ago. She also shows zero desire to be outside. When my dad took my cat’s kittens away when I was a teenager, the cat destroyed the screen door trying to get to them.

Whoever dumped a pregnant teenage cat by the side of the road to fend for herself is deserving of the worst curse I know. May my Goddess give them everything they deserve.

FYI; I am pledged to the Morrighan, a goddess of battle, death and rebirth. I hope they come back as helpless females.

These same *unsubs taught her two very bad habits; jumping on the counter, and begging for food off my plate. I won’t stand for these, any cat I’ve had from 6-8 weeks old never does either of these. So, we started training the first day. Nothing rough, but a strong NO in my best “mom voice”, and a firm shove off of my lap.  I hope it doesn’t escalate to the spray bottle.

She seems pretty smart, leaped off of the counter at my first NO. But snuck back into the kitchen and stole the fatty back of the ham we had. Sigh, her eyes were bigger than her stomach, she left a greasy mess all over the floor.  Yeti knew better, he just stayed far away from the kitchen until it was cleaned.

One good thing, I’ll need to be sure to put everything away right away now. My kitchen will be so clean! I’m hoping she’s a good mouser, Yeti is too lazy to do more that stare at the little buggers. I may have to teach her a bit though, I tried a squeaky mouse and a ball, both times she just stared at me.

She’s got a very sweet and affectionate nature, and they’re barely hissing at each other any more, it seems more habit than actual enmity. She loves to be up high, her current fave place is on top of the video camera case, piled on top of a table in my office. From this high (3ft) ledge she surveys her queendom. And sleeps.  A lot.

She does 3 things a lot; sleep, eat and poop. I can’t wait until the chemical warfare part of the cats juggling for supremacy is over, and they both go back to covering their poop. I seem to be scooping every 20 minutes.

Speaking of which, I must go…

 

*unknown subjects, from FBI profilers manual

Orlando shootings, another voice

It’s been ages since I posted, I’ve been crazy busy, and the world has just gone crazy.

After my mom’s wedding a little less than a month ago, I worked a book fair, dealt with pain levels that would make a grown man sob hysterically, attended two milestone birthday parties, started a garden, had three doctor appointments, wrote a 7 page outline, adopted a stray cat, had friends over for dinner….

For most of you, that might not sound crazy busy. But I do most of it hunched over from pain, barely able to walk. I am on morphine from the pain, and some days it doesn’t even make a dent.

I got to feeling sorry for myself. I cleared 4 garden beds (well, I cleared one, my niece cleared three) and could barely move for two days. I worked at the kitchen table because it was so much closer to the coffee machine.

Then the mass shooting in Orlando put things into perspective. I live my life in pain. Some live their lives in fear. Fear of things like that slimy little turd in Orlando.

And their fear is as real as my pain, but a lot harder to fix. Morphine wouldn’t touch it on its best day.

Most of you don’t know this, but I had a foster child in the late 80’s, early 90’s. He was high school age, failing, depressed, suicidal, and GAY. Also a gorgeous person of colour.

He was being bullied so badly at school that he’d been moved from foster home to foster home because of his anger and depression. (Way to really help these kids, Asshats!)

So I got him. I adored him at first sight. By the time he aged out of the system, he was happy, creative, and had a scholarship to university. What did I do that was so incredibly different?

I accepted him.  After all, who he loves is none of my concern as long as I show him it’s safe to love. Where he puts his dick is none of my business EVER.  (Unless his partner is abusive, in which case I try to help him get the strength to leave, but that story is none of your business.)

He’s now a strong, loving, beautiful man. He supports himself, owns his own home, has a wonderful partner, acts and sings on stage, and probably still lives in fear.

It breaks my heart. And terrifies me.  My son used to go to bars all the time when he was in his 20’s. He rocked that dance floor! And any of those fun-loving people out for a few drinks could have been him.

None of them were a threat to to anybody, none of them were doing anything but enjoying a night out. I look at their eager, happy photos and cry for the loss of so many lights. So many shining ones snuffed out, into darkness.

I’ve seen a couple of people celebrating their deaths. Do that anywhere I can see you and blocked will be the nicest thing to happen to you. Excuse me while I go write an execution or something, pretending it’s one of those small-minded, foul-mouthed cretins.

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My beautiful, happy boy.