Monthly Archives: June 2016

Farewell Mrrrpp

Earlier, when I started this post, I had all sorts of snarky things in my head to say.  It was Wednesday, the world seemed to have gone mad yet again, and I was feeling …  well, like something was going to happen.

the Handsome Boy

the Handsome Boy

I don’t want to feel that way anymore.  I just want to go back to this morning.   It’s wasn’t a perfect morning.  Heck, it wasn’t even the best morning.  It had good bits though, and I want those back.

Most of all, this morning, Mr. Kitty hadn’t been injured.

He didn’t need an emergency trip to the vet.

Most of all, he didn’t need to be put to sleep because he’d suffered severe spinal nerve damage and had lost all sensation (and function) from about the middle of his back, down.

The vet wasn’t sure if it had been the result of a blood clot or an injury caused by a car or some other violence.  Because of the damaged nerves and his heart murmur, she didn’t see a good chance of recovery from surgery.  He couldn’t eat or drink…  he’d lost function effectively below the waist.  He could purr and cry softly at me.  He could panic a bit about the overly friendly pittie at the vet’s office (who stayed well away, but was close enough to smell and therefore was a possible threat).  He was still able to be comforted by a scritch behind the ears and be pissy and unsettled when the vet or her assistant touched him.

He was himself right up to the end.

Fluffle and Mr. Kitty

Fluffle and Mr. Kitty

But, for the record, there is little that feels as wrong as those last loving touches that you give your pet as the vets are giving them the sedative and the barbiturate shots.  I know he felt no pain, but I also know he was mostly gone by the time I was able to say good-bye.  I know that’s standard procedure, I know our vet and she is wonderful and wanted him to suffer as little as possible (despite the nerve damage, he was suffering because of lost function), but…  I wish I’d been able to be with him before the first shot a bit longer.  I know he knew I was there for a moment–he tried to fight the sedative pretty hard, constantly opening and closing his eyes, trying to focus on me a few times when I spoke to him, his ears flicked slightly.  But the drugs are meant to be strong, and he wasn’t going to fight his way through this.

Why is it the animals that cause us the most grief are the ones we become the most attached to?

I think that as Flufflepuff comes over and begs for hugs.  I think both he and JuJuBee are missing their window companion.

Au revoir, Monsieur

Au revoir, Monsieur

Now onto normal Wednesday affairs…

The WIPpet

No fancy WIPpet maths today.  Six sentences.  It’s your choice whether that’s for the 6th month or for the addition of the 1&5 of the date.  And yeah, I stepped back a few more pages yet again in the Unnamed Story.  At this rate…  I’ll be reposting stuff.

Can any of you guess who Alanii is speaking about?

Alanii snorted. “I’ve seen what his lovers look like, Atyriia. That man doesn’t know anything about seducing a woman gently. His wife had been an ale wench. She’d been the only woman to ever share his bed and not leave it covered in bruises. And only because she could pick him up and throw him out of the room if she needed.”

Enjoyed that  bit?  Well, then head over to the WIPpet linky and visit other WIPpeteers. A shout out and hugs to Emily Witt for hosting the hop these days.

The ROW80 Check-in

I don’t have much to say today.  Things are…  well, until today, things had been on track.  This is the only writing or writing related activity I’ve done today though.  Studying up on what drugs are actually used in euthanasia  for cats is the only reading I’ve done.  Hanging out on Facebook and trying to lose my head in other people’s lives is the only interaction I’ve achieved.

Mostly it has worked.  I wrote this post.  I had other plans to write about today.  Maybe Sunday…  Maybe I’ll post a Friday Photo on my other blog…  I don’t know.  It’s too far ahead to plan now.

By Her Majesty’s Decree

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The Queen and the Sheriff of Nottingham (sort of)

Busy day for us here at Chez Mabee, at least for me.  Somehow I got posted to the JuNoWriMo hosting schedule for sprints twice on Sundays (feel free to jump on Twitter and join me if you need some writing boosts–you don’t have to be a June WriMo member to participate), two four hour shifts: from 6-10am and 7-11pm.  We also went to the New York Capital District Renaissance Festival today, which (for anyone who has attended such things) took a lot longer than we expected it would.

This awesome soldier (Trojan--he'll be sure to tell you) was a highlight of the faire) helping the Boodle to shoot

This awesome soldier (Trojan–he’ll be sure to tell you) was a highlight of the faire) helping the Boodle to shoot

It was the Boodle’s first “real” renfaire (there is a little one that occurs every other year at a church in the center of Albany*, but that doesn’t have the space for many of the activities that make up such an event).  For a while we weren’t sure if it wouldn’t be his last.

We shouldn’t have worried.  There was a Shakespeare-inspired skit going on at the Vixens En Garde stage.  After that…  we had no fear of leaving early.  In fact, we stayed well past the ending bell for the Queen’s Blessing and dismissal.  And during the parting wishes, the Boodle was calling out “Huzzah” right along with the crowd.  He wants to go again next year and has asked if we can look into going to one of the other big faires in NYS (Sterling or Sterling Forest) before summer is over.

The Boodle wasn't quite as keen on trying to fire the ballista

The Boodle wasn’t quite as keen on firing the ballista

A big change from the kid who didn’t know if he was even interested.

He has even expressed something of an interest (though I’m unsure how strong it is) in planning a costume for next year).  If he does, cool.  If not, equally cool.  There is plenty of time to get involved more fully such activities.

And with his love of the Bard, who knows…  maybe someday he will be one of those on the stage someday!

In all, it’s been a good day.  A tiring one…  but worth it.  Even if it did make me dream of England again…

Now, ’tis time for my weekly assessment and…

ROW80 Check-in

ROW80LogocopyWriMos are tricky things.  They tend to consume more energy than they feel like they should.

I mean, really, if I normally hit between 750-1000 words a day, and somehow manage to goof off a bunch, then it stands to reason that a bit more than doubling that shouldn’t really be an issue.  On an average day, I can usually pull out 750 words in a half-hour.

I’ve been lucky to achieve 400 +/- these last few days in the same amount of time.  And when I’m hosting sprints, my actual wordcount drops even further.  I am a host after all, and as a host, it is my responsibility to mingle and interact, answer questions, provide  support.  It’s fun, but it’s very disruptive to the muse at times.

How does this work with my goals?

  • Goal (#1): working through three chapters weekly of James Scott Bell’s Plot & Structure (including exercises)
  • Progress: nothing—shifting, broadening focus from now on
  • Not-progress, but… this was the week of reading twice daily a writing blog article for more craft ideas
  • Goal: catching up in my local critique group (including submitting something this week)
  • Progress:  I submitted a piece the other day
  • Goal: typing two pages a day of old notebooks in
  • Progress: typing away madly
  • Goal: (VIG) Write new words daily! (the Five Sentences thingie)
  • Progress:  I’ve been fighting myself for this handwritten work these last few days–some stuff going on at the house that just has our heads a bit filled (my hubby’s more than mine, but he needs his partner around when Life is giving him this kind of stress, so it’s a mutual thing)
  • Not a Goal but Progress Anyway: continued progress  my languages (except Spanish and Russian… dropped the ball on these again)
Of course they had Daleks in Medieval times! They followed the Doctor, and he's been everywhere!

Of course they had Daleks in Medieval times! They followed the Doctor, and he’s been everywhere.

And that’s pretty much it.  I’m overtired; have dealt with two migraines and a slew of sinus headaches this week, two power outages (which almost ruined out file server because it tried to do updates between outages!), “Stuff”, my SiL’s father died suddenly…

I keep saying I’ll add to these goals, but Life doesn’t seem to want to work that way lately.  Maybe it’s just as well that the ROWnd is almost over.   I will be ending things on a “I DID it” note instead of scrambling to reach ever newer and brighter stars.

There is something kind of cool about that too..

Thanks for stopping over!  If you’d like to visit other ROWers and cheer them on, follow this linky here.

* this isn’t the main site, but there is a funny story in this piece, since the cathedral was never completed and a stop-gap roof was installed so the building would be usable

Time Travel of Sorts

Finally! A combined WIPpet and ROW80 post… Only took a few weeks!
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I seem to be traveling backwards for these WIPpet posts. It sort of makes sense… I don’t usually write in a linear fashion. But to post out-of-order two weeks in a row feels odd. Still, here we are…  I’m taking y’all back even further in the Unnamed Story.

No fancy maths today.  It’s JuNoWrimo, and my head is toast.  Eight little paragraphs for the 8th of June.  Hope you enjoy…

Vant didn’t bother inputting his passcode in the keypad when he reached the basement.  Like as not he’d be leaving with ‘Listii Mirniia in a few minutes.  No sense in resetting the locks for that.

Opening the door, he reassessed that decision and quietly backed away to key-in his id number.

Mother, what did you do to him?

Grimly, he reentered the room to gaze over the scene, broken only by the fact that his presence had been noticed by the pair on the floor.

‘Listii Mirniia eased from the woman’s arms to grab up the towel on the floor next to him.

The woman in question moved slightly to a defensive pose that shielded the man next to her.  “Vant?”  Even her questioning tone held a hint of caution as if to warn him away.

Vant held back his smile.  Oh, Mother, how so-very Wanderer of you….

Behind her, his uncle placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “It’s alright, Atyr.  He’s involved too.”

Caught in the act…  but of what?  I’ll wager it’s not what you think.

If you enjoyed that, you may want to head over to the WIPpet linky and visit some our other creative members. Yummy Biscoff cookies and a spicy Vanilla Chai to the multi-talented Emily Witt for hosting the WIPpet Wednesday bloghop these days.


ROW80LogocopyNow, I’ve got a mini check-in for all of you keeping tabs or following the Round of Words in 80 Days writing challenge.  If you aren’t and you’d like to know more, would like increased accountability, or would just like some companionship during your writing journey, click to see if The Writing Challenge That Knows You Have a Life might work for you.

As for me…  Life is firing on all cylinders except that dear *cough cough* Goal #1 (to read/study a craft book).  Does the time I spent reading up on how to create the perfect villain (via Jim Butcher’s old Livejournal) and Marcy Kennedy’s ever-so-helpful lists from her Busy Writers Series of craft books count?

Just Write

If so, then I’m (still!) rocking this week.  I’ve managed over 18K for my JuNoWriMo project since last Wednesday; I’ve drafts of both the JuNo Pep Talk I was asked to write and my next ROW80 sponsor post done; and I’m still finding a small amount of “me time” reading. Tuesday, I thought I’d lose momentum (serious head hurt), but I pulled most of the day through with a mid-day nap. Sometimes I see the great word counts of others in the JuNo and feel a bit down (people who are writing those 5K days regularly impress the heck out of me), but it’s what it is.

This weekend is the New York Capital District Renaissance Festival.  We’re thinking of going here at Chez Mabee (the Boodle really wants to go).  It’s also the Self-Publishing workshop by Audra North at our local RWA chapter meeting.

Decisions, decisions…