Not What He Remembered

ROW80 Check-in

The head is clearing now, both from the cold and from getting some things that have hovering finished.

• write every day; at the minimum, do 5 sentences  I want to make this a fiction only goal from now on
• finish a complete (rough) draft of Courting the Swan Song   three new sentences!  😉
• make twice weekly blog posts (WIPpet Wednesdays and Some Thing 4 Sundays) on a consistent schedule check
• maintain active sponsor participation YES!!! (sponsor post even handed in)
• energize myself with more physical activity a good workout this morning plus
• reclaim my writing space  stopped the avalanche and grabbed shovels
• go through some piece of my electronic home (desktop, laptop, server space, Dropbox, etc.) nothing here
• laugh more, hug my family more, share myself with friends more… yes, yes, YES!  😀
• attend chats and sprints on Twitter (at least one of each) nope

WIPpet

I’d hoped to be a lot further along in Courting the Swan Song by this point (March is National Novel Editing Month after all), and I don’t have a complete first draft.  I do have a good baseline sketch of things that I’m missing, but that’s about it.

I do have enough to bring you a WIPpet, even if I have to grab that from someplace other than the three new sentences I added to the manuscript since Sunday (or the others I deleted).

Six shortish sentences today…  2 for February subtracted from 2 plus 6 for the day.

Michiko II by Fabian Ferez

“‘Ssell! I didn’t know you’d be in the city today,” the man said.

Alanii stopped himself short. ‘Ssell? Vissellii Marae? This genteel lady could not be Valichii and Valistii’s snippy, mud-haired, spear-pole of a sister. He stared at the young woman who was now offering Valichii an embrace and a peck on the cheek. She turned next to offer her uncle the same.

Raise your glass (mine’s iced tea, hope that’s not a problem)  to K.L.Schwengel hosting this bloghop.  The WIPpeteers hang out over at this  linky; come on and visit!

Scritches and a Cat-nip Mouse

Goodbye, Stimpy Doodle

Curled up

A bit of a photo and video tribute to our cat, Stimpy, who passed away yesterday.

It wasn’t a surprise.  He’d been sick for a long time.  He wouldn’t stay inside, and when he did, he’d try to eat things like fiberglass insulation.  But he was all love and play….  lots and lots of play.

He really, really loved stuffed mice, for example.

Brother and sister

He also had an odd memory for things.  He couldn’t remember which door to go to for dinner, but he never forgot his sister, Lyarr.  She died very young from FIP, and yet if something came out of storage that she’d slept on that might hold a touch of her scent…  he would go crazy running about the house crying to her.  Indeed, the day she died, he knew the box that she’d been placed in.  He dragged one of those sticks with feathers on it across the room and dropped it by the box, patting the box and meowing.

Stimpy always took the ottoman

Stimpy was a royal pain at times.  But he loved so much, and he trusted so much too.  He was The Boodle’s “first pet” in a sense, because Stimpy was here as M. grew up and not only accepted him, but loved having M. be with him.  Whereas Asmodean had been jealous of our son’s presence in our lives, Stimpy Doodle was happy.  New toys to play with, more scritches…

Though he kept running outside (what eventually killed him) and vanishing for days, he always came home and purred and loved and talked… oh, could he talk!

Although he died yesterday…  it hadn’t fully hit me until I started writing this post and looking through the pictures.  So please excuse the tears.  I just wanted you all to get to know this sweet boy too.

Sleep Well, Doodle

Row80 Check-in

Since Wednesday things have been on a slow rise toward progress after being sick.  I probably could have made up a few things since yesterday, but my heart’s not in it at the moment.

• write every day; at the minimum, do 5 sentences  everyday; not always fiction
• finish a complete (rough) draft of Courting the Swan Song  did some searching and scene plotting
• make twice weekly blog posts (WIPpet Wednesdays and Some Thing 4 Sundays) on a consistent schedule check
• maintain active sponsor participation more progress on the sponsor post (I have a real rough draft!); the rest– check
• energize myself with more physical activity almost nada; we’ve been sick
• reclaim my writing space  no progress here; some back-sliding
• go through some piece of my electronic home (desktop, laptop, server space, Dropbox, etc.) very little progress
• laugh more, hug my family more, share myself with friends more…  a bunch of just us stuff, end of school break fluff
• attend chats and sprints on Twitter (at least one of each) nada

A Warm Bed

This nasty cold is lingering far longer than I hoped it would.  My husband’s on the couch with a box of tissues and a cup of Throat Coat tea next to him, covered with all the spare blankets we have downstairs.  I’m prepping for bed now, despite it being only 8pm.

I have nearly nothing to report for my ROW80 goals.  I did a beta read for someone, and I’ve been reading through Swan Song.  Nothing else.

So what that leaves is the WIPpet.  I do have that…

WIPpet

Eleven sentences today from Courting the Swan Song (2-1+9=11).

And indeed, the bed was that comfortable. The layers of down were so thick and uncompressed that only clouds could be more airy. The blankets were much the same, thick layers of fur sewn between delicate silken weaves that lay upon his bare skin in a soft, heavy embrace.

Even the room felt warm and dry against the rest of the world, a gently chuckling fire still crackling in the hearth….

Yet all Alanii could think was how Val, Nessad, Vartanian, and the rest of his men had been forced to billet in some empty stalls of the stableyard—not even the billets of the Lanii armsmen, even though he was certain there should be spare beds enough in the barracks hall. Normally his cousin offered those empty cots freely.

The fact he’d not unsettled Alanii. Why? It could only have something to do with the last few days, but despite Alanii’s earlier unease over the unintended insult of staying at the inn for a night rather than announcing himself here, Hirisii had seemed delighted in his personal presence. It had been his guard who suffered. And for all his flaws, Hirisii was not one to torment the servant when he could have infinitely more fun poking the sores of the master.

Hands-off hugs (since we don’t want to share this cold too far)  to K.L.Schwengel for leading the WIPpeteers each week.  Head over to our linky to visit us all.

Photo credits:

• Royal bedroom in the Residenz Palace, Munich, Bavaria (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
• English: Horses in a Stable (Photo credit: Wikipedia)