My poor nondog.
Still no idea about how to be a dog.
I gave him his holiday dinner, which is canned dog food (he has never had it before) and he's still trying to figure out what to do with it.
He is starting to think it might taste REALLY good, though.
(Technically speaking, it's dessert: he had his regular dinner about an hour ago.)
He does not know how to be a dog, but he is learning. He actually stole something out of the recycling bin the other day to lick, which is a first. It was a chicken broth container.
He's really quite ludicrous, and I love him very much.
- Mood:
loved - Music:The Derek Trucks Band - Sweet Inspiration (Radio Paradise - DJ-mixed modern & classic rock, world, e
- Mood:
cheerful
So there's my 1.5 attempt at spinning. The outside is better than the inside, but still very very erratic. And now I have to figure out when the spindle is full, and how to ply it....
(This is lovely wool that
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
asciikitty sent. It's more teal than blue in person.)It's the 1.5 because here is the .5 attempt, with combed 100% virgin silver Briard:
That's the belly of the GRD's stuffed lion, if you want to know. *g*
- Mood:
dizzy - Music:Eartha Kitt - Santa Baby
Commencing work this morning with a dog who says the floor is much, much, much too cold, and can't you please turn on the summer, monkey?
Tea today is a nice Assam from Upton (Mokalbari East); teacup today is an autumnul Chinese cup with leaves and berries and cherry blossoms.
Temperature this morning: 24 degrees.
Apparently, les smice have been eating my pie overnight:
I did not know that les smice used forks, however.
Not actually sure what work is getting done today--I think I'm going to go poke at Grail and see what happens. Having a third of it drafted is very reassuring: the end seems so much more attainable from here than from zero: I mean, 250 pages is little enough room that I start worrying about running out of space rather than how on earth am I going to fill this with interesting narrative?
And in conclusion, a dog loves you.
- Mood:
working - Music:Car Talk
One of the nice things about having Chaz Villette in my head is that his stress response is to cook. Not only am I becoming a better baker, but I get to eat his cooking. (Some of my characters are a little possessive of my headspace. Ahem.)
So tonight I made whole wheat chocolate cherry muffins (with black cocoa) (which needed more sugar, I think)
And a key lime pie.
Come over. Help eat.
...all right, time to head upstairs to pay attention to the cats and get some work done on Grail. Since I got 2K on "The Unicorn Evils" this morning and afternoon.
Now the burning question? Tea or beer?
...tea, I think. I know, I'm a failure as a bad influence sometimes.
- Mood:
complicated - Music:Iron & Wine - Belated Promise Ring
Ahh, tea. Today's tea is gunpowder green mixed with peppermint, as a cure for shoveling. Today's teacup is Paraphilias Involving Bunnies, which I have had since just before college. Today's morning temperature is 32 degrees on the dot.
And now I am on the job, having been up since seven doing needful snow-related things (and making tea).
It was pretty out there--white snow, black dog, grey morning. (Wasn't that a Joy Chant book back in the day? I should really reread The Grey Mane of Morning one of these years.)
Here, have a holiday card image:
And here's one I took for
buymeaclue, in which we can see how inconvenient a long coat can be in heavy snow:
- Mood: worky
- Music:Morning Edition
the Wonder Dog would like to register his disappointment that apparently this new house also suffers from an infestation of that nasty white stuff, which he was hoping would not trouble him here. (His first house was in Florida. He has not quite forgiven New England for its winters.)Yes, our tree was spawned of a hell dimension.
Decorating the tree was kind of an emotional experience for me, because these ornaments have been in storage since 2002, and they all (of course) have memories attached.
Meanwhile, this morning, the Complaint Department brought me a glitterball, which was both a lovely gesture and made me realize that she has been increasingly anhedonic for a while now. Because the glitterball deliveries were never what you would call regular, but they were occasional, and I can't remember the last one.So it appears the kitty diazepam is working as it should, and she's feeling less stressed and more playful.
She even let the kjitten get away with patting her on the head this morning.
Of course the downside of this is more jumping on my face in the middle of the night.
I feel like I am a bad kitty mom, and I should have noticed that she was more stressed out than I realized before she resorted to domestic terrorism.
Meanwhile, the GRD is working on his levitation:
If only he can figure out how to get all four paws up at once, he'll have this licked.
- Mood:
apathetic - Music:Gillian Welch - Winter's Come and Gone
Monkey: Oh dear. I seem to be suffering from a miserable allergic reaction to something. I think I will take some benedryl, go to bed early, and skeep it off.
9:00 pm
Complaint Department: Monkey?
Monkey: Shhh. Sleeping.
Complaint Department: Monkey?
Monkey: Shhh. Sleeping.
Complaint Department: Monkey? But I need scritches.
Monkey: Huh? Scritches? Okay. Now can we sleep?
Complaint Department: *purrs*
Monkey: Shhh. Sleeping.
11:00 pm
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks at random noises*
Monkey: Oh, god, go to sleep, dog.
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks at people on the street*
Monkey: Oh, for the love of baby jesus, go to sleep.
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks at dust particles*
Monkey: Don't make me get out of this bed.
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks at air molecules*
Monkey: The house had better be on fire because it caught from the welding torch the serial killer was using to break in, is all I'm saying.
Monkey: *gets out of bed*
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *silence*
12:00 am
Monkey: *sleeps*
Complaint Department: *jumps over Monkey's head*
Monkey: *hides head under covers*
Complaint Department: *walks on Monkey's hair*
Monkey: *pretends to sleeps*
Complaint Department: *jumps over Monkey's head*
Complaint Department: *again*
Complaint Department: *and again*
Monkey: Cat, did you notice that you are on Valium?
Complaint Department: I love it! It makes me so perky!
2:00 am
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks at random noises*
Monkey: Oh, god, go to sleep, dog.
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks at people leaving party across the street*
Monkey: *reads script from earlier*
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks at dust particles*
Monkey: *skips ahead to the getting out of bed part*
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *silence*
4:00 am
Complaint Department: *barks at random noises*
Monkey: ...
6:00 am
Alarm clock: *Pachelbel's Canon!*
Monkey: No.
Complaint Department: *walks on Monkey's hair*
8:00 am
Monkey: *gets up*
Monkey: Cat? Where are you? You need your pill and your treat.
Fearless Kjitten: Treeeeeeeeeeet?
Complaint Department: *evaporates*
9:00 pm
Monkey: Gosh, why am I so tired? I slept twelve hours last night!
- Location:i don't have a husband. he don't play the trombone.
- Mood:
tired - Music:Tom Prasada-Rao - Christmas In The Ashram
A brief pause in our insane schedule today to pass out on the couch with the dog.
Giant lapdog is giant.
Dog hugs make everything better.
And now dog break is over. Back on your heads.
- Mood: tired
- Music:Tom Waits - Cold Water
So, when I say Briards are a boundary/tending breed, this would be an example of what I mean. I was cleaning the living room floor and asked Ace to stay in the kitchen.
Notice position of dog, and open baby gate.
- Mood:
busy - Music:ZZ Top - Cheap Sunglasses
What? It's not English? Well, good, It doesn't deserve to be.
Anyway, notable of the trip:
- Williams College is beautiful, and so are the Berkshires, but we knew that.
- Williams College fed us, so if you thought about showing up and didn't, you missed cookies! and dolmas! and other things. Totally spiffy.
- The Inkberry people are awesome, and they also fed us.
- The Giant Ridiculous Dog came with me (as I was leaving, he kept looking pointedly at his leash and seatbelt, and I caved). Since I got lost at the college and he needed a break after the two and a half hours in the car, he came into the auditorium with me, and he was a perfect gentleman the whole time, except for one bark when we were applauding after Maggie's reading. Which, honestly, it was a story worth barking for!
- The outing was most likely very good for him, socially. He was quite nervous at first, but nobody killed him, and he got many pets and made several new friends.
- stealthmuffin was kind enough to hold his leash while I was reading, and except for trying to climb into her lap, he was mostly good for her, too.
- We had more audience than readers, which is always a sign of success!
- And then we came home safe.
- It snowed in both directions. Just flurries, but this is early snow for us. Oh, yeah, it's going to be quite a winter.
What?
Maurice Sendak?
...oh. *g*
- Mood:
lazy - Music:Morning Edition
Chaz's rosemary shortbread (with added lemon peel and extract!) and hey! author copies!!!!
Which means that soon, soon, BTMB will be in a bookstore near you.
And because Tolerant Dog is Tolerant:
(Buy this book or this dog starves.)
OMG, if you could smell my kitchen just right now....
ETA: And by
msisolak's request:
- Mood:
naughty - Music:Gillian Welch - Orphan Girl
- Mood:
chipper - Music:Crooked Still - Darling Corey
Monkey: Quit hiding under the table. It's dog-brushing day.
GRD: Are you sure we can't discuss this? I'm open to negotation.
Monkey: I'm not. Either you get brushed for an hour today, or for six to eight hours when I get home from VP. I know which I prefer.
GRD: What if I climb up on the sofa out of the way, where I go when you vacuum?
Monkey: No. Come over here and stand still.
GRD: What if I give you my paw?
Monkey: No. Come over here and stand still.
GRD: Bring you a stuffed unicorn and play bow?
Monkey: No. Come over here and stand still.
GRD: How about if you just brush my ruff, and leave the tail and feet alone?
Monkey: No. Come over here and stand still.
GRD: bigdogsigh
Monkey: Now we're getting somewhere.
GRD: You know, for this torment, the least you could do is give me a kitty.
Complaint Department: (from upstairs) I HEARD THAT!
- Mood:
contemplative - Music:Melissa Ethridge - An Unusual Kiss
The guitar case was unmoved by his ardour.
Poor GRD.
- Mood:
giggly - Music:Brianna Lane - Prayer To St. Jude
Monkey: And now, I shall frown and sigh a lot, and drink a good deal of coffee, and think very seriously about my novel!
Kjitten: I shall pounce at your mouse cursor while you play Bejeweled! think very seriously about your novel!
Complaint Department: I say, my good woman, is this a catnip zucchini on the floor beside your chairs?
Kjitten: I shall balance on the back of your chair! I shall walk upon your shoulders! I shall pounce upon your delete key with stunning accuracy!
Monkey: I am patience, and all affronts are as water unto me.
Complaint Department: Surely, this is the finest catnip zucchini ever purveyed by fawning monkeys unto a deserving Cat, here verily upon the floor of this office.
Kjitten: I shall stalk the Old Cat! Stalk! Stalk!
Complaint Department: What a pity is it that I, so aged and crafty, am ignorant of this young upstart who haunts my every step!
Kjitten: Stalk! Stalk!
Complaint Department: What a tragedy is't that age and ingenuity shall ever fall to the obstreperousness of youth!
Kjitten: Stalk! Stalk! Gather....
Monkey: If you do that, the old cat is going to hit you.
Kjitten: Buttwiggle! Stalk! Gather!
Complaint Department: How said it is that I, the picture of naivete, shall here upon this catnip zucchini, all unwitting, this very day meet such an unkind fate!
Monkey: If you do that, the old cat really, really is going to hit you.
Complaint Department: *chalant*
Kjitten: POUNCE!
Complaint Department: *hits*
Kjitten: *skitters*
Kjitten: HEY! YOU SET ME UP!
Complaint Department: *rolls eyes at Monkey*
Monkey: *rolls them back*
Giant Ridiculous Dog: *barks forlornly in his exile downstairs*
Kjitten: Neener neener! If you didn't chase cats, you could be allowed through the baby gate! Neener! I say, neener! YOU SUCK!
Giant Ridiculous Dog: ...I can't work under these conditions.
Monkey: HEY! ...when did you learn to talk?
- Mood:
relaxed - Music:Three Dog Night - Let Me Serenade You
There's really a leggy, skinny dog under all that fluff. And when you can see it, he has an absolutely beautiful neck:
Now back to staring at walls and waiting for one of them to tell me what this vignette I am supposed to be writing is about.
In unrelated news, I got my Pandora pan-punk station tuned to just about where I want it. If you'd care to listen, it's here.
- Mood:
happy - Music:the buzzcocks - everybody's happy nowadays
- Mood:the eagle has landed
It also means that once I get my hands on some thinning shears, I can thin out his fall so he can see when he doesn't have a ponytail in, which will make him less of a hazard to navigation and himself.
Of course, the real problem is not the matts, which do, after all, come out with a few scissor snips. The real problem is that it's been around ninety degrees and eighty percent humidity for the past two weeks, and he's blown every bit of undercoat. Which felts into his guard hairs, creating an dense and nigh-impenetrable layer of insulation and armor. And which also traps dirt and makes him smelly and harbors ick, and which will turn into matts if ignored for too long.
Which means that just his regular maintenance grooming is not cutting it currently.
I just spent three and a half hour with an undercoat rake, (first we use the undercoat rake to get rid of as much of the dead coat as possible, then we brush him to get the rest, then we go through with the comb for any lingering tangles) and in the process I removed an approximate, oh, Shetland sheepdog worth of fur. And he's not even remotely done--there are still matts in his armpits and groin, his belly and tail and legs aren't brushed, there's still dead coat in his ruff and bloomers and some scattered bits elsewhere that haven't given up the ghost yet... and he still needs his toenails cut.
Thank something my mom's coming over tomorrow to help me with the rest of it, because I think I'm beat. But it's got to be done. Of course, my copy-edited manuscript of Chill has to be done, too, and so does the draft of The White City. But they aren't suffering the tormenting itchies of a dirty dog, and he has to be brushed before he can be washed. Or I really will be making felt.
Aieeee!
Yeah. Snap. Bed now.
- Mood:
sore - Music:Joni Mitchell - Slouching Toward Bethlehem
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