Eagles Over the Kennebec

It's Caturday, and I have the pictures to prove it!


Scrabble, looking a bit out of focus in her co-pilot's chair:




I'm taking a short break from writing and other chores.  Still have some stuff to do for the first chapter of Saltation, coming soon to a website near you!  And, of course, Longeye.  Also, I'm pretty sure there's some bills around here that need paying.  And I haven't even started pulling the 2007 tax stuff together.  Sigh.  I need a secretary.  Or at least I need the person who writes my books for me to get the lead out.

Back later!

The Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg, Russia, is famous as the palace of Empress Catherine the Great.

The greatness of its cats is the less well-known side of its astonishing story.

They have been here since the 18th Century. Fed up with rodents running through the palace, Empress Elizabeth sent out a decree that the best ratters in Russia should be sent to St Petersburg. The first to respond are thought to have come from the city of Kazan - then apparently famous for the rat-catching skills of its cats.

The rest of the story is here

I may have mentioned here before that Scrabble, our Office Manager and Cat of All Work (that's her, in the icon), likes to be sung to. Mind you, Mozart likes music, as long as there aren't bagpipes involved, but he's not so sure about the humans in his service bursting into extemperaneous song.

Scrabble, however, likes singing, especially if the refrain goes something like, "Scrabble, Scrabble, SCRABBLEscrabble, pretty, pretty Scrabble." kinzel is especially good at adapting old populars to the formula ("In the bluechair, the soft and blue chair, the Scrabble sleeps tonight...") From time to time, I try my voice at it, but I'm considerably less talented, and don't always remember to get in the number of "Scrabbles' necessary for True Art.

This morning, for instance, I was inspired, almost certainly by a deficit of caffeine to attempt the following, to the tune of Little White Duck

Little brown cat
sleeping in the morning
Little brown cat
hardly even snoring

...the Alert Reader will immediately spot the fatal flaw in this song. While the deeds of brown cats are of course always appropriate to heroic song, the lack of an immediate mention of the heroine's name renders this a minor work, scarcely more than a piece of -- pray excuse my inelegance -- doggerel.

Still, Scrabble is nothing if not a Lady. She consented to raise her head and reward my efforts with a genteel yawn, closely followed by several deliberate cat smiles before curling around the other way, putting her paw over her nose and resuming her interrupted business.

And I, of course, can't get Little White Duck out of my head.

The day started well, then went into a tail-spin around noon with the loss of power in the library, followed by the fire alarms going off. We dutifully filed outside, and I sat on the warm granite steps in the bright, breezy afternoon and worked on some introductory story noodles for Duainfey. In good time, the alarms stopped shrieking; we all went back inside and up the stairs, reaching our various offices about the time the second wave of fire alarms went off.

Down the steps, out the door, chat a bit in groups. The alarms stop, and in we go. The hall lights do not work in our hallway, but the photocopy machine in that hallway is powered and ready to rumba. The lights are on in my office, directly across the dark hall from the photocopy machine, and the printer on the wall nearest the hall professes itself ready to print. But there is no power on the other side of the room, where my computer and phone sit blank-screened on my desk.

Across the hall, behind the photocopy machine, John's office is completely dark, his computer out for the count. Rob has lights, but no computer; Elizabeth has computing power, but no lights. What state the offices of those who are off the hall, teaching, might be in, we can only guess.

John folds up his computer and leaves, in search of light, coffee, and a working outlet. Rob takes off for class. Elizabeth, whose office is well-windowed, goes to answer her email.

I -- come home to take Mozart to the vet.

Mozart started sneezing late Friday night and by Saturday afternoon had what looked to be a full-fledged and very drippy cold. There were no appointments available on Saturday, so we took the first available on Monday. Mozart sneezed, his eyes teared, and he was very clingy, but his appetite was robust, and he didn't seem to have any chest congestion. When we took off for the vet, I was pretty sure we'd come home with a bottle of Magic Pink Stuff.

Except not.

It turns out that it's not a cold -- lungs are clear, no fever -- but some sort of upper respiratory issue. So Mozart has little white Magic Pills to take for the next ten days. He is at the moment reclining on the bed, composing a Memo to Regional Headquarters.

I so do not need another note in my file...

Rewriting continues apace, with 14, 15, and 16 now under my belt. Seventeen, 18 and 19 ought to be pretty much as they ought. Yes, yes, I've said that before.

Training for the new job on Thursday morning, official starting date Monday, July 31. I may be checking in irregularly for, oh, the next four or five months.

kinzel hung out the Black Cat flag today, and it's been getting a good workout in the brisk breeze. Brisk breeze good.

In cat news -- Fans of Dulsey may be interested to learn that she has found a new position with a solid company. Management there is, we hear, experienced and pro-active, and we wish her very well.

Also, Scrabble has decided, at the advanced age of 3+/- years, that she wishes to try this lap thing. She actually climbed into my lap this morning, curled up and purred for a good ten minutes, which is ten minutes longer than she's been on my lap in all the time she's been here.

Old cats can learn new tricks. How 'bout that?

I slept late. It was kinzel's fault. Which is unusual, as he's the one who most often springs out of bed early and eager while I burrow more securely into the blankets and sue for another couple hours' of sleep, with maybe a nap later on in the day...

In any case, sleeping late meant that the trip to the post office to mail the second half of the Calamity's Child pre-orders had to put off 'til noon (our post office now closes from 11 - noon everyday, opens a half-hour later and closes a half-hour later). I used the time productively, filling some of those other orders which had stacked up while we were waiting for reprints and then were away. Which meant that when I did arrive at the post office, I had plenty to keep Jay occupied for the hour between noon and one. All of the pre-orders are gone; the backlogged Other Orders are not quite gone, but I'm still looking for a Monday launch date, depending on how ...engaging... the Flea Market Experience proves to be.

We have two tables at the Winslow High School Class of 2009 Graduation Project Flea Market tomorrow, from 7:30 a.m. until 2-or-2:30 p.m. Today, around other projects, we made piles of things to sell, and we hope that people come with full wallets and a giving spirit.

One of the other projects on deck was taking Scrabble to the vet, because she had been having bouts of Extreme Sneezing, all yesterday and last night. When I say Extreme, I mean that she would start, one sneeze right after another, and keep it up for two minutes at a go. After which she would shake her head, lie down again and sleep until the next attack came over her. She woke me up three times last night with Sneeze Attacks (she sleeps on the cedar chest at the bottom of the bed), and we were worried that there was something Seriously Wrong.

Of course, Scrabble was not so accommodating as to actually have a bout of Extreme Sneezing while we were at the vet's. Her temp is fine, her lungs are good, her nose is clear -- verdict? Allergies. Who knew cats were allergic to maple pollen?

...and as I type this, a bout of Extreme Sneezing is happening behind me. Poor Scrabble.

In and around the rest, writing has happened. At some point tomorrow, I'm going to have to deal with the pile of SRM bookkeeping at my right hand, before it slides off the desk and buries me alive.

And now it's rising 9 p.m. Time for lunch and some catch-up with kinzel

Progress on the Book Without a Name

53,438 / 98,000 (54.5%)

Wandering around the house this morning, taking pictures of the cats.

Fans of Dulsey take note. Pictures ( behind the cut )

Woke up feeling achy in all my muscles and like I hadn't slept at all. Unfortunately, the aches and bleariness intensified during the course of the morning's errands, so that I gave in after lunch and had a nap, Mozart ably assisting. I can't say I arose entirely refreshed, but I did feel better, and moved on to the other tasks upon the day. Slowly.

Dulsey is content to keep to the puppy crate and sleep, which I think is very wise of her. We called the vet early and rescheduled her Tuesday appointment, and while we were at it made an appointment tomorrow for that same Mozart. Honestly, I think they coordinate these things just to make sure we get enough time out of the house.

I didn't think I was going to get any writing done, what with One Thing and Another, so was pleasantly surprised when I sat down to make some notes and found my fingers had story to type.

Tomorrow early, Agent has an appointment at the shop, then Mozart to the vet in the afternoon. We're just about at the leading edge of the Getting Ready to Travel Vortex. At least I know what I need to take with me -- I just have to, you know, get it all in one place...

Progress on the Book Without a Name

44,006 / 98,000 (44.9%)

Fans of Dulsey and subscribers to the Dulsey Defense Fund will be pleased to know that The Big Operation is scheduled for Tuesday, April 11 at 8 a.m. EDT; a bowel sample will also be taken at that time. Her Glorious Beneficence should be home mid-afternoon and back to plotting World Dominion shortly thereafter. Please be aware that Staff may be a bit behind answering email during this period, due to the necessity of Catering to Her Every Whim and Desire.

Oh. Wait...

Today was the Official Floating Day Off, of which kinzel and I take one per week. Except we missed, last week. Ah, well.

So, today for the FDO, we traveled to the state capital and partook of the cat show. It was an enjoyable show, not large, sponsored by Nauticats, a local TICA group dedicated to raising funds for neuter-spay programs, feral cat organizations, rescue groups, and the like. Today was the third day of the show, and we went first thing, arriving about 9:30 on a cool and sunny morning.

There were lots of cats (surprise!), mostly, so it seemed to me, Maine Coon cats, which sounds reasonable until you find out that some of the Maine Coons had traveled to the show from Virginia and other far-away lands. There were also a large number of Ocicats, lesser numbers of Persians (hatehateHATE the new, super-smushed Persian face! How can they breathe, poor cats?), snowshoes, Russian blues, Abyssinians, a couple of Orientals, and a strong showing of Just Cats.

We sorta parked at the first ring, where the judge was very good about explaining what he was looking for in the various cats, and his process in deciding. A thoughtful person -- and also a nimble one, as we found out.

The largest cat in the show was a 15-month, 20 pound MC male, brown tabby. We saw him when we came in, at ease on his table, while his owner combed him. When he came to be judged, though, he was a Entirely Different Cat. He swatted at the judge twice -- and the judge had the owner come and pick the cat up, rather than return him to the cage. Then, the cat swatted at the judge again as the judge was explaining to the audience about the Classic Maine Coon Structure(tm) that this particular cat illustrated. I was frankly appalled. I mean, yeah, Mozart knows some bad words, and once -- once -- he did nail me good. And was immediately horrified and apologetic and it has never, never, ever happened again, no matter how disagreeable I am.

What was worse? There were two cats up for the first in Class and Division in this particular batch -- the bad-tempered big guy, and a sleeker, smoother, altogether more laid back and quietly amused fellow. The judge deliberated between the two of them for quite some time and then -- gave the blue to the bad-tempered guy. He explained that, while there had been a show of temper, it was the third day of the show, so he'd used his discretion and cut some slack for behavior which, had it been the first day of the show, would have netted a penalty.

Reasonable, but I would've given the other cat the blue.

In all, we spent an enjoyable three hours at the show, then headed up to the Olive Garden, in an attempt to use the gift card my dad gave us for Christmas. The place was packed -- it's never anything but standing room only; don't these people know it's only a chain? -- so we went down to Panera and had broccoli cheese soup before stopping at Barnes&Noble, where I scored their only copy of Pretender, and then wended our way home.

Dulsey has gotten the wrapping on her leg wet. Of course, it's Saturday night (kitten timing is impeccable). Question: Is it OK to leave a wet wrapping on, or is that asking for even more trouble?

I am not sanguine with regard to re-wrapping, so if it comes off, it stays off.

Back from the vet's for the second time today. Dulsey broke three bones in her foot. The leg is splinted and wrapped, and she is ensconced, not very happily, in a medium-sized-dog crate on loan from a friend.

The vet suggests we keep her confined for two weeks. The vet does have a sense of humor.

I apologize to the numerous Fans of Dulsey(tm) out there. News has been pretty thin on the ground of late, what with convention tripping, oral surgeries, computer games, and suchlike.

However, I shall now make up for this dry spell three-fold, yea, and more.

As has been recounted elsewhere, Dulsey is of an athletic nature. She had also put in early for the Evil Knievel Option Package. Too early, as it turns out, because she is not as proficient at math and spatial config as one would wish, preferring to chase Scrabble rather than study.

As a result, she frequently leaps into the sides of things -- the bureau, for instance. She has also at least once tried to leap through the mirror to visit the winsome kitten on the other side.

Being of an athletic disposition, and bent on taking over all the Cool Places identified by the aforesaid Scrabble, Dulsey lately discovered the Place Atop the Bookshelf.

This Place can be reached by jumping to the so-called "bookshelf headboard", walking to the far end and making a dern near vertical leap to top of the six-foot bookcase next to the bed. To descend, one simply reverses the process. This has been a favorite spot of cats over time, and there is a towel on top the bookcase, to make it comfy.

Until recently, this aerie was Scrabble's final retreat, as Dulsey wasn't able to make the jump.

That changed last weekend, when Dulsey finally got the equations right and made the leap to the top; then turned around and proved out the descent. She has since been making it a habit to spend at least part of each night up there.

This morning, as kinzel and I lay half-asleep in the early morning, waiting for the house to start warming up, we were shocked awake by a Huge Noise. It sounded like -- oh, I dunno... say, an unabridged dictionary hitting the floor at Warp Factor Three.

"The kitten fell!" I yelled, and we leapt out of bed, turning on the light, and looking all around, but there was no kitten lying shattered on the rug. Indeed, the resident kitten was well down the hall, blinking a smile at me when I called her.

Well, we were awake, so we got up. I went into my office to check my mail and do the morning comic run. Dulsey came in and jumped up to the top of the file cabinet, which is her morning position. After the comics, I went over and gave her some skritches, and Scrabble (who was in the window), too. Then I went to join kinzel in the kitchen, where he was getting ready to give Max! his thyroid meds.

Dulsey is usually well underfoot for this operation, but this morning she held back. kinzel frowned at her.

"What's the matter, kid?" he asked, and then frowned some more. "She broke her foot."

I looked, and -- sure enough, the left front paw looked ...funny. I called her, and she came to me, walk-walk-pause, left paw off the floor; lather, rinse, repeat.

So kinzel and I are back from the vet's now, and waiting to hear the results of the x-rays.

The best we can figure is that she jumped from the top of the bookcase, not to the top of the headboard, but directly to the floor, going for, you know, the extra Style Points.

Argh.

( Picture of El Dulsey behind the cut )

You can just see the little cartoon balloon over her head: "WTF? That's not natural!"

Patia went back to the vet this morning. Alas, this time Pink Stuff(tm) was not the cure; her temperature is still 'way too low, she hasn't been eating or drinking, and she's ...just not herself. Most worrisome is that nothing abnormal shows on the blood tests done Monday. She's now at the vet's, in an incubator, in an effort to bring her temp up, with various drips. The vet will call us tomorrow morning with an update, which is very kind of him; or "today, if something bad happens."

Please keep the good thoughts and healing vibes coming.


In other news, I'm off tomorrow from the dayjob, but have been called up for Friday. Looks like I'll be working fifteen days out of the next seventeen, with mandatory overtime now in play. Might be a thought scarce around hereabouts until after /P/o/t/l/a/c/h Christmas.

It's snowing as I type, and the numerous rivers, streams, and marshes we passed over or by during this morning's perambulations were full to overfull. Also noticed a good many impromptu ponds in various fields and lawns. Six mallard ducks spotted taking their ease in a temporary pond made by the overflow of a local canal.

Today's mail brought a late 25th anniversary gift from my brother-in-law and his wife. Much appreciated -- and useful, too!

Currently on an Eddie Watch. The galleys for Crystal Dragon are supposed to land today; they're wanted back at the publisher's on Monday. Good thing we weren't traveling this weekend...

kinzel has started the laundry, put the bed back together (Patia was hiding under the bed this morning when it came time to go to the vet, so we had to take it apart), and did another round of computer-wrangling. I've paid a couple bills, and RSN need to descend to SRM World Headquarters to fill the orders which also arrived in today's mail.

...as soon as Dulsey gets off my lap...

Those who have the time and the inclination: Healing thoughts are solicited for Patia.

( this is Patia )

The day job's been keeping me hopping, so I haven't been posting much. However, some time ago, I promised Pictures of Cats, and we always keep our promises, oh, my, yes, we do.

( Cuteness behind the cut )

A request has been made for more information on Dulsey, aka Kennebec Dulcinea d'Cervantes.

Dulsey is of the same House as Kennebec Mozart, of whose wonderful works faithful auditors of this journal will hear from time to time. The full name of the House is the Kennebec Maine Coon cattery in Pittsburgh, PA, owned Kathy and Jack Robinson. Kathy and Jack build excellent cats, and those thinking of adding a Maine Coon cat to their establishment would do well to contact them.

The original plan was to Surprise Rolanni With a Kitten for Her Birthday, in September. Alas, though there were kittens in House, they were all much too young to undertake the arduous journey to the homeland. After much discussion, Dulsey was decided upon and a date in early November tentatively named as the most propitious for kittens traveling to new situations.

Life then became Complicated.

The date in early November was too close to kinzel's dental surgery. Dates after that were clouded with Dark Portents, not to say possibilities of snow, nor could Rolanni herself travel far from Central Maine, as she had committed to a day job through the end of the Christmas Season.

All this being so, kinzel heroically drove to Carlisle, PA on Sunday and met a Certain Car. There was some furtive conversation, I imagine, and a cat carrier was surreptitiously passed from one vehicle to the other, which then took off in a northerly direction.

Late Monday night, kinzel and Dulsey arrived at the Fortress of Solitude. She is a very affectionate, and busy kitten, and it is fortunate that her name was decided beforetime, else I would have been tempted to "Bat," in honor of her magnificent ears.

Photographs will of course be posted in the fullness of time.

Steve and Dulsey got home lateish last night, and Dulsey had her first vet appointment scheduled for early this morning. The plan was to get her distemper shot over with and introduce her to Dr. Slack. We did introduce her to Dr. Slack, but the distemper shot has to wait until the respiratory infection she picked up is taken care of. Pink Stuff(tm) and eyedrops prescribed. We know the drill. I only wish that there existed a Magic Elixir like Pink Stuff for us two-legged types.

Home from the vet, then Steve ran errands while I tried to make the Isolation Room a bit more comfortable, and spent some bit of time assuring the Cats-in-Grade that they were not being replaced, and that it was in fact their excellent job performance which had convinced us to take on another helper. At this writing they remain, largely, unconvinced. Scrabble in particular is chary of the wisdom of taking on a Direct Report, and spent a considerable part of the day sulking in the basement. She's now at her usual post atop the file cabinet in my office, supervising.

Steve came home with fried chicken and biscuits for lunch. Eye drops were administered, some bookkeeping done, and then naps all around. Woke and did some writing. I am not a NaNoWriMo participant; I just happen to be writing again, and -- it actually feels pleasant. This is a Good Thing.

And now -- a glass of wine, and early to bed.

Thanks to everyone for the good thoughts. They worked.

We took Max! to the vet's this afternoon fully believing that we would be Max!less forevermore. This was -- blessedly -- not the case. The vet's best guess is that Max! has had a small stroke, which accounts for the sudden sensory mix-ups, balance issues, and a slight tendency to list to the left (which, in this house, is about what you'd expect anyway). Despite the hyperactive thyroid, he hasn't lost any more weight, which is seen as a Very Good Sign, and the vet points out that, typically with cats who have had strokes, they'll make an accommodation with the balance issues. So, we should be seeing some improvement there.

So, we're back, we're relieved, and vibrating somewhat.

Max! of course, is asleep.