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.

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Trying a new functionality… 

Did I use word that right?  This is supposed to allow me not just to link to a friend’s blog post or article, but to quote some and link to the rest.

I think.

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Hello world!

Welcome to my official Author’s website!

Here, I’ll be reviewing books, posting news and appearances, sales, freebies, and more.

It’s still under construction, but pull up a chair, pour yourself a coffee and settle in.

It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

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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

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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.

unsorted photos 021

My beautiful, happy boy.

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My Mom’s wedding!

So, it’s been long two weeks.  Maybe a long month, I’ve lost track.

I went to New Brunswick on May 8th to help my mom with the last preparations for her wedding, meeting her groom for the first time. Eh, he’s OK, better treat her right, I know what he looks like now.

Goldie and George 14-5-2016.jpg

 

This is the first kiss!

He seems to be a little selfish, but then again he was single for at least 10 years, he may not be used to thinking of other people. My sweetie showed him how a confident man treats women: with respect and spoiling them at the same time.  The size of your manhood is not determined by whether you ask others if they want something when you go out for coffee. Nor is it diminished by doing what she asks you to, especially if you are gluten intolerant and have IBS and she wants you to stop with the fracking donuts!

We fixed up the house, made endless cakes and bought tons of snacks and paper plates. The reception was at Mom’s house. I got to see all her brothers and sisters, some I haven’t seen in over 5 years. It was great.  So was spending time with friends in person instead of just FB messenger.

The long and short of it is that I was exhausted and out of spoons by the time we started home on the 18th. Thank Gods we got to overnight at a friend’s, the 6 hour drive that day was more than enough.

So, that was last week, the weekend included two friends birthday parties. This week was a train wreck.And it’s not over yet.

I had an appointment for an mri on tuesday, arrived at 7am to find that it was booked for 730PM! Unfortunately, all the walking to and from my non-existent appointment made me too sore to hang around for 12 hours or the real appt. Rebooked for June 20th. And time CONFIRMED.

Doctor appointment on Wednesday to followup on a problem. Calendar says 130pm, went on time. WRONG. It had been rescheduled for 9am and I was too tired to check my phone messages on Tuesday. Rebooked for next week.

Went to see dear friends for dinner, started a migraine. Frack!

Home today and my house looks like we were attacked by mad bombers while we were away. But the TV is still here, so it’s our mess. I put African chicken in the 4l crock, and hambones and water into the 15l one. Then started trying to clean up.

Ever had one of those days where you can’t do A until B is done, can’t finish B until C is done and can’t do C until A is done? Yeah, that. I want chocolate and a nap.

And the house is still a disaster.  I’m supposed to go to my writers assoc meeting tonight and pay my dues.  Sigh….

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My non-existent pain…

Tomorrow morning bright and early, we leave on a ten hour drive to my Mom’s to help with her wedding.  It’s both stressful (Mom reports turning into a 16 yo bridezilla) and incredibly cute.

So, I spent all day yesterday packing for a 2 week trip, and was supposed to spend today getting the house ready to be empty.  Like emptying the fridge of rottables.

Instead of sleeping last night, I was up all night with severe pain in my non-existent gall bladder. I had my gall bladder removed almost 2 years ago, and I’m still having attacks?  Worse than when I had it?!  The very definition of unfair.

I am so tired and sore today it’s not funny.  But I’ve still got so much to do.  Like refreezing the freezer packs. And bringing down the box of stuff for Mom.

I’m betting that the love of my life didn’t get much sleep either because there was no position that lessened the pain. But I still shifted around looking for it. Constantly.

I was also supposed to write a review of an ARC I received. I wanted it done before we headed down east, but my brain is poutine today. Messy, squishy, some parts hot, some cold… you get the idea.

Maybe I can write the review on my tablet in the car tomorrow, and upload when we get to my Mom’s?

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I won! IwonIwonIwon!

I entered a short story contest put on by Radish a few weeks ago. Radish is an online story sharing app, kind of a pro-level Wattpad. Except that it just goes to Mac Apple products for now. (They are working on an Android app)

I entered a short story based in my world for Nets to Catch the Wind. It stars Thalia, one of the supporting characters. The contest rules were that it must involve flashbacks triggered by a shot in a bar. So I wrote some backstory to my backstory.

And it won best fantasy!

Great news to come back from Ad Astra to, eh?  Which was great on its own, btw.

So, I’m not sure how much I can say about my biggest bestest thing that happened, I’ll have to wait for permission, but it was awesome!

I also got to chat with amazing authors, buy tons of new books, and see a couple great panels. I got to party with a writer whose work I love. And… I seem to have been promised a panel or seminar on taxes and the authorpreneur at Can-Con 2016!

They want to call it “What to do with those fracking receipts!”  LOL, I can work with that.

 

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So, shit happens….

So, yesterday was interesting, today was frustrating.

I had a 9am appointment for a full physical. With bloodwork, so no breakfast, not even coffee or tea. I sat at a restaurant drinking herbal tea to wait for the appt.

Somewhere between the restaurant, the Dr’s office and the bloodwork, my phone got stolen. We called the only 3 places it could be, then visited in person, just in case, and then called again later in case someone working there just didn’t tell everyone they’d found it.

No luck, it is gone. We tried calling it first of course, in case it was in the bottom of my backpack, or had fallen out in the car. It rang the first 2 times, but not where we could hear it. Then it was powered down, when it should have been at 90% power. Shit a brick!

So today, in between mourning my photos, my winning streak at solitaire and my phone numbers… I called Bell to report it stolen.

Well, okay, first I tried to use their “award winning user friendly website”.  ROFLAO

The only way to report your phone stolen from Canada is… wait for it…. to call them on your cell.  Seriously.  The “talk to a representative” gets you sales, who can do nothing. Searching on “stolen phone” gets you the advice about calling from your cell. AND  the 1-800 number is not working today.

L Stewart

Eventually, I just call the sales rep and play the “get me a manager” game until I reach someone to report this fiasco to. She disables my phone, adds it to the local cop’s watch list, adds it to the nationwide Bell watch list, so no-one can change the phone # and use it. The Bell phones don’t have sim cards to swap out, they just have internal thingies. So it’s trackable. (unless it’s powered down)  Which mine still is.

But, she says it was powered on yesterday at 4:20pm. about 7 hours after it was stolen. And that my lock screen kept them from using it; calling Japan, buying a small country, etc.  Yay!

Now… I bought insurance when I bought the phone… replace it!

Nope, too easy. The reason I’ve been getting texts from Bell urging me to upgrade, is that my contract ended a couple months ago, so did my insurance.

New Note 5 phone $369.  Nope, it’s $274 at Rogers, cancel my account, and maybe my satellite TV too, I’ve been looking at Shaw direct lately. They have Crave AND Shomi!

New Note 5, $250.  Includes unlimited nationwide calling, video and chat.

Go me!   But… I have a show on Saturday, I need my Square to sell books. But this is a whole new frustration with a different company.

Square is linked to the device, not the account. I can’t switch it to my hubby’s phone until mine arrives, may not be able to switch it to the new phone.  Another email sent to customer support…

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Vikings and sexy stuff

So… yesterday we went to the last day of the Viking exhibit at the Canadian Museum of Civiliza… History. (stoopid politicians changing the name to leave a footprint on history)

I went with several members of my Kindred; Norse reconstructionists and sword brothers, it’s an old religion: the prechristian faith of my northern European & Scottish/ Pictish ancestors.

It was both interesting and vaguely disappointing. I already knew most of the history and religion, but the notes on social structure and ritual were interesting. I took photos, especially of the two skulls and the burial pot. They could be ancestors of mine, we’ll never know.
skull 2

We also bought a penannular broach at the gift shop, which my darling man will be trying to copy in his forge. (see example above)

And it’s all research for my fantasy novel series! I learned new words. their own words… like viking is a verb not a noun. It’s traveling in a ship to raid or trade. People went aviking, they were not a viking.  Cool!

Also, the average age at death was 23-30 for men, slightly younger for women, likely because of poor childbirth conditions, and multiple pregnancies causing anemia and nutrition deficiencies. 60 was considered doddering old age.  Not so cool. And no wonder they married at 14, between the infant mortality rate and dying young, it’s a wonder they survived as a race.

broach and beads

1000+ year old beads and broaches set from a wealthy Noreaenner woman. (grave goods)

 

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