Devon Ellington's Blog, page 2

Tues. Sept. 23, 2025: Trying to Stay on the Road

image courtesy of Jill Wellington via pixabay.com

Tuesday, September 23, 2025

Waxing Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Chiron, Saturn, Uranus Retrograde

Cloudy and warm

Happy New Week! I hope you had a wonderful weekend.

I worked on the newsletter first thing on Friday, since it has to go out two days from today.

By the time I got the text and links where I wanted it (not yet put into MailerLite), it was time to head out for the errands.

The grocery store was the first stop, meal planning on the fly. Of course, I forgot a few things (no list), but I also restocked some basics on which I’d run low. Library next, dropping off two bags of books, and picking up even more. Then a couple of other small errands. Got everything done, got home (yay, parking space), and hauled it all across the street and up the stairs, and put away the groceries.

The library books needed sorting then, between project research and stuff I want to read just for fun. Both of us are reading, in order, Martin Walker’s Bruno mysteries, set in France, and there’s a cookbook now as a companion to the series. It’s quite wonderful. The visuals are fantastic, the recipes are good, and Walker gives history and tradition of place, the evolution of the recipes, and how the geography affects the food. I also got Susan Wittig Albert’s CHINA BAYLES BOOK OF DAYS, with herbal recipes and notations for every day, which is fascinating and delightful, and some of her non-mystery novels, along with one of her diaries, TOGETHER ALONE. I own a copy of that, and her journal, AN EXTRAORDINARY YEAR OF ORDINARY DAYS (one of my favorite books in general), but both are in storage right now, and I needed a re-read.

Sometimes, one craves a specific book, and it’s vital to feed that craving.

Made lunch, then dug into client work. First up, was the book review. Of course, at 1:30, the Sidewalk Chewing Demons showed up to cause chaos. I retreated to my bedroom to try to get some work done, with Charlotte. Tessa, meanwhile, decided she wanted to be on the front porch, but not in a chair, so she yanked a cushion off the chair, arranged it on the floor as she pleased, and curled up there, at least until the noise and dust from the Sidewalk Chewing Demons was too much.

I saw the job postings at The Public, in NY, for IATSE crew heads, and I’m glad that off-Broadway is finally unionizing.

I wrote, polished, and submitted my review. I requested my next assignment, which I received.

A job listing landed in my inbox for a proposal writer for a janitorial company that wants to expand into aviation janitorial services which is just so uniquely specialized that I need to find out more about it. I am probably not at all qualified for the job (not being an aviatrix, just writing about them, and knowing next to nothing about the janitorial industry, although I can imagine a lot of. . .excrement), but I’m curious. Even if I don’t apply, it’s a wacky background for a story!

A publication I subscribed to moved their platform over to Substack, so I unsubscribed.

This was the big Fresh Grass Music Festival at MASS MoCA, so everyone’s charging an arm and a leg for parking spaces. I tucked my car into my spot and that was it for me for the weekend. Not fighting traffic and scrambling for the 3 spaces that aren’t $40 in order to run into a store and pick something up. Shoe leather express or do without!

It also means there will be another COVID surge in the area (there’s already an increase in numbers, steadily this summer), so I will have to be very, very careful and extra vigilant about masking between now and going in-studio. Fortunately, the residency requires a COVID test before arrival. But unless one is in isolation from the result of the test until arrival, there’s still chance of exposure.

I mean, I mask most of the time in public indoor spaces anyway, such as the library and the grocery store and in museum exhibits. I never stopped. But I need to be extra cautious during the lead-in for the residency, both for myself and my fellow poets.

I used the cookbook tied to the Bruno series for a trout recipe for dinner, with the rest of the carrot/parsnip dish and some leftover Spanish rice. I wasn’t sure how all the flavors would blend, but it worked. And we had lemon mousse for dessert, which was very good.

Read in the evening. Slept reasonably well, although I had strange dreams. Up at the usual time on Saturday, morning routine, decent 15-minute writing session.

Saturday was mostly about household chores, several of which took longer than expected and threw off my hopes for the day. I also put aside most of the clothes I need for the residency. Yes, I am one of those people who packs well in advance, and then repacks the night before. That’s my process. I’m sorting out the books I want to take, too – poetry to read and inspire, research books, practical books. And, of course, my poodle bookends! It was lovely out, although whatever it is that makes me sneeze and makes my eyes itch is in full bloom.

I should have done some ghostwriting in the afternoon, at least by late afternoon, but didn’t have the brain energy. Instead, I played with the cats and finished my re-read of TOGETHER ALONE. What a beautiful book. I appreciated it more this time around, and different things struck me about it. Susan Wittig Albert’s connection to and relationship with the nature around the home she and her husband built out in the Texas hill country (while writing full-time, and doing 5 years of ghostwriting) is really beautifully rendered. So is her exploration of her need for solitude, even within her marriage. It makes me want to go back and re-read all the China Bayles books, along  with some of her stand-alones. I mean, she also write a series (6 books? 8 books?) with Beatrix Potter as the central protagonist that I remember really liking, and a series of gardening mysteries (I think they were called Darling Dahlias) about which I was kind of lukewarm. I have not read the 12 historical mysteries she and her husband wrote as Robin Paige, and I should probably hunt those down and read them.

My relationship to the book in this re-read is very different, because I am in a different place both physically and emotionally. When I first read it, I lived on Cape, and the desire for “rooting” spoke deeply to me, because I’d wanted to live there for so long and thought that’s where I would and could root. That did not turn out to be the case, and reading it here and now, wary of the transience of place in the current political and economic landscape, there’s an entirely different perspective.

There’s a quote that makes the rounds of social media. I don’t remember to whom it is attributed, or if the attribution is consistent and/or correct, but it’s along the lines of how books are wonderful, because they remain constant, but every time you go back and re-read, you are different, and it changes the relationship to the book.

Made colcannon for dinner, a solid seasonal choice! It turned out very well, although it made more than expected. But leftovers are always good.

Finished reading the next Bruno mystery, which was very good. I like the way Martin Walker bends and expands the genre, exceeding expectations.

Slept well into Sunday, and did not want to get up.  Good morning routine, although the 15-minute writing session began in practicality before it could get more creative. I’ve also gone back and made notes in the margins where I’ve worked out bits of specific projects, so I can easily find them again. This experiment isn’t just brain dump, it’s creative exploration, and I have to actually find what I’ve worked on without re-reading each entry. It needs to be a useful, living document.

The crows are back hanging around, which is wonderful. I mean, they’re very chatty, catching us up on the last few months, but I’m glad they are back.

Did an early morning run to the grocery store to pick up a few things I forgot on Friday, and also things I needed for the apple cake I wanted to make for the Equinox. It was cooler than I expected, even though it was bright and sunny. Still dry, though. We are in drought, and need rain. That will also wash away some of the whatever-is-making-me-sneeze-and-my-eyes-itch.

Did the Community Tarot Reading for the Week, which you can find here. I really enjoy the Tarot of the Owls mini deck. I’m glad I had a month to work with it in depth.

I got some ghostwriting work done, and puttered around on a few other projects. I got some work done on some grant and residency proposal applications. I need to dig up some work samples that I put away somewhere really safe and now have no idea where they are (they are not digital). I baked an apple cake, which turned out really well. Between the drought conditions and the dust/chaos the Sidewalk Chewing Demons cause, my allergies are worse than usual this September. Sneezing like crazy, eyes itching and watering. Not fun.

There was turmeric in the lunch soup that helped for a few hours, and then I’ve started the teaspoon of honey before bed, so I had a quiet night, but I hope we get some rain soon. And that the Sidewalk Demons GO AWAY.

We’ve had chaos since April, and I’m sick of it. Especially because they refuse to communicate.

Went to bed early on Sunday because I was tired. Woke up at 1 AM to close the bedroom window because the heat kicked on. Since the heater is under the window, it’s counterproductive to have the window open when the heat is on.

Went back to sleep and slept until after 6, much to the cats’ dismay. Had a weird dream that was definitely a warning. I just have to interpret it.

The minute Bea hears the singing bowls on the meditation timer, she jumps up next to me for petting time. She connects singing bowls to affection, which is pretty funny. She and Tessa play a lot in the morning. Bea’s presence has invigorated Tessa, and it’s wonderful.

I added a few balancing poses to the morning yoga routine, in honor of the Equinox.

Good 15-minute writing session. Expanding from 10 to 15 minutes was the right choice. I always feel like I could go longer, but I don’t feel frustrated when the 15-minute double chime goes off, like I did with the 10.

Tried to settle into the writing, which was next to impossible due to the Sidewalk Chewing Demons.

However, I dug in and gritted my teeth. In spite of the noise making me physically nauseous, and winding up with a screaming migraine, I got the ghostwriting assignment off my desk and onto their desks two days early. I’m hoping to get the revision notes on the other assignment in the next couple of days, so I can turn that around before I go in-studio. By the time the Sidewalk Chewing Demons leave, I feel like I’ve been beaten (certain sounds actually cause bruising on me, so sometimes I look like I’ve been beaten, too). It’s not like the sound stops and everything’s fine. I need a couple of hours after they are gone to regain equilibrium. And those toxic positivity IG influencers who say “we choose how we feel” can go and bite me. I do not choose this. And don’t start with noise cancelling headphones. They don’t work. And it’s not just a little bit of noise. It’s above the safe decibel level for full days at a time, with enough vibration that things fall off the walls and off shelves and tables.

Did some admin work. I’m not having font problems with new work, but having some with files created over the last few weeks. I also got the newsletter into Mailer Lite, so it’s ready to go on Thursday.

Willa was running around with the catnip pickle all afternoon. It was pretty hilarious.

I made our traditional Autumn Equinox dinner of Cornish Hen with mashed potatoes, stuffing, and steamed vegetables. And, of course, our lovely apple cake I baked the day before. It was very good, and then I made chicken stock after.

Read in the evening, relieved I’d gotten the ghostwriting out. They said they’d have the revision notes for the other project to me today, which means I can probably turn it around before I go in-studio.

Read a book by a fairly young woman extolling the need for rest. Which is all well and good, but not once does she refer to Tricia Hersey’s Nap Ministry and her book REST IS RESISTENCE, which is pretty much the vanguard of learning how to rest and bucking the system. This young woman acts like she thought of it. I’m glad she’s doing it for herself, but there’s a lot of work out there on the topic (like all those scientific studies). The book itself is basically a hot mess of all the trends she tried that didn’t work for her. Great, and I hope it helps people, but it just made me more tired. There was no new information there, and nothing that I found helpful. Tricia Hersey’s work speaks to me on a much deeper level. But different work speaks to different people, and it’s good to have a wide array of choices out there.

Slept pretty well. It’s supposed to be nearly 80 today, with a thunderstorm. I hope the storms come early (they look like they will) so the Sidewalk Chewing Demons have to stop work.  However it affects them, we desperately need the rain.

On today’s agenda: the anthology story. I need to send out a last call if people are going to sell their books at the reading, so I can finish all that paperwork. I have some admin to do. I’d like to work on one of the plays or VICIOUS CRITIC or ANGEL HUNT, but the anthology story (due a week from today) has to be the priority.

Let’s hope it’s not so noisy I can’t get anything done!

Glad to hear Jimmy Kimmel will be back on the air tonight, but I’m not yet convinced it’s a victory. Let’s see how they muzzle him. And there are rightwing broadcasters keeping it off their channels.

Have a good one!

Mon. Sept. 22, 2025: Intent for the Week — Balance

image courtesy of  Oleksandr via pixabay.com

Monday, September 22, 2025

Waxing Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Sunny, pleasant, cool, dry

Autumn Equinox/Mabon

Happy Autumn Equinox to you all! Today, we have a moment of balance between day and night, before we tip toward the dark until the Winter Solstice, when it starts growing lighter.

I want to take that sense of balance, momentary as it is, and try to pull it through the week. It’s very much a head-down working week — I have ghostwriting deadlines, a book to review, scripts to read for WAM, prep for the upcoming residency next week, and the reading, and a short story to finish and polish. There’s a lot of other stuff that I wish I could get done over the week, but the above is what HAS to get done.

It means prioritizing and re-prioritizing as each day unfolds, and not getting caught up in rigid schedules.

The Community Tarot Reading for the Week is up here. We are still using the Tarot of the Owls mini deck. It’s adorable and it reads well.

The Sidewalk Chewing Demons started their chaos just after 7 AM this morning. I predict ibuprofin in my future today.

Have a good one, and enjoy the Equinox! What’s your intent for the week?

Fri. Sept. 19, 2025: Just Keep Putting One Word After Another

image courtesy of Ирина Шутько via pixabay.com

Friday, September 19, 2025

Day before dark moon

Pluto, Neptune, Chiron, Saturn, Uranus Retrograde

Sunny and pleasant

Charlotte was so happy we had meditation via ZOOM yesterday morning. That made her whole day.

Bea was unhappy that our morning routine was changed due to the laundromat, and she didn’t get her regularly scheduled petting time. I had to make up for it.

The ZOOM meditation was good, and it was nice to be all together again.

Did some work on a grant proposal. Received a reply to a question I’d sent about a residency, with the person quoting the website text that caused the question in the first place (in other words, not answering the question) and calling me by the wrong name (not to mention the wrong gender). I may decide not to apply for that one.

Pollinator proved continued disorganization, making yet another change after I rearranged my schedule to accommodate them after our exchange on Wednesday (or maybe it was Tuesday) for the five upcoming weeks. Enough already. I told them I was permanently pulling out this time. I tried to delete my profile, and the site won’t let me. So I posted on my profile that I withdrew a month ago and it was ignored, I would not be at any meetings, and I hope it goes well for them.

Which is true. I hope the people who stay have a wonderful experience and it sets up a terrific network. It is not the right fit for me. The attitude since day one is that they are doing us this enormous favor, and therefore we have to do whatever maneuvering they demand to fit it. I am too old and have been around too many blocks for this crap.

But I am out of that cohort for good.

I am so over people being disorganized.

I’ve kept Assets4Arists up-to-date on how this has been working, since they are the ones who told me about this cohort. I also told them if they had paid a participation fee on my behalf, they should ask for their money back!

On a happier note, Level Best has another anthology call that’s in my wheelhouse, due at the end of December, which gives me both percolation time and writing time. AND the Nina Bell print copies arrived, so I have copies of all three books to sell at the reading. I’m selling them at pretty deep discounts.

Speaking of disorganized, when I folded and put away the laundry, I discovered I was missing a pillowcase. I hiked back down on foot to the laundromat and found it. I’m usually more careful than that and check the machines. In fact, I remember checking the machines, and don’t know how I missed it. I am very happy I found it and retrieved it.

The #FreelanceFriends chat was a lot of fun. I will be hosting the chat on October 23. I will come up with 3 questions on the topic, and we will let it rip.

I was later than I hoped getting to the ghostwriting. I did some really good work, but I’m behind where I wanted to be. I’m still fine with the deadline, just not with the earlier deadline I set for myself. I don’t know if I can finish it by the end of the day today.

We are officially in a drought now in the state, and being asked to conserve water. Hmm, maybe shut down some of the AI data centers that drink it all up, and we’ll be fine, okay? Stop asking residents to accommodate greedy tech bros and pay the price financially and environmentally.

We got an alert to elevated fire concerns, too. We haven’t had any real rain for a week or more, and there isn’t any rain predicted until the 30th. I hope that adjusts, and we get some before then.

The Jimmy Kimmel situation is just eye-rollingly corrupt, on multiple levels. I was glad to see both the WGA and PEN respond quickly. And, as it’s been pointed out on both Colbert and Kimmel, it’s not just them losing their jobs. It’s all the people who work on the show, and there are a lot of people behind the scenes making it work every day. Disney could have taken a stand. They have enough financial muscle. And yet they caved. I hope people do cancel their streaming and cruises and planned trips. But most people talk the talk without walking the walk.

Slept well. Was awakened by the scent of coffee. Got up and realized it was just after 1 AM and it was someone else’s coffee, not mine. I managed to get back to sleep, and slept past 6, much to the disgust of the cats. Although my own coffee was fresh!

Good morning routine. And the 15-minute writing session did its job well. This next Level Best deadline at the end of the year is an historical mystery, anytime in history until 1901. Which means I can’t float a test balloon of a mystery inspired by my Playland Painters, who were there from 1928-1940. There will be, I am sure, a kazillion submissions in the Victorian era, so I’ll avoid that. Ancient Egypt and Ancient Rome are also popular choices, so I’ll avoid those.

But I have a wealth of research from my women-forgotten-by-history plays. I can tap into those eras, even if I don’t use those women, or use them peripherally. I used the writing session to narrow down, narrow down, narrow down. I have three solid ideas, although I’m leaning toward one in particular, mostly because I don’t think I’ve read anything set in that era or that particular environment before. I’m not quite ready to share it yet; I want to play with it a bit.

I may write all three of my top choices, eventually. But I’ll start with this first one, once I have the story due Sept. 30 polished and out, and revisit my research materials. It might be a good project (or series of projects) to bring into the feminist writing sessions on Monday mornings, when I join them virtually a week from Monday. And they have resources there, so if I CAN make it out in person in early November and December, I can get credentials to do some research for a couple of hours in their archives after lunch, before I head back.

On today’s agenda: grocery store and library. The rest of the day is about ghostwriting and finishing the book review. I had hoped to do a couple of other things, but I may have to push them off until the weekend.

I think I’ve found the spark for the story due for the anthology call that ends on the 30th. I hope I can do a first draft this weekend. It can be 3K, 5K is the usual length, and can’t be more than 7.5K. I’m hoping to hit between 3-5K. I also need to get the rejected story out on submission again.

My friend’s idea about changing the default font seems to have worked (so far). Although I thought I’d changed it to Times New Roman and it’s Arial instead. I like Arial, as long as it’s stable. I can always convert to TNR for specific projects.

This weekend, I have household chores and catching up on work that didn’t get done during the week. Some of that includes ironing. I’d like to get some sewing done, but it depends how much work I get done today.

I will have writing to do, and some practicalities to take care of over the weekend, too, around the household chores. I’m also starting to put aside clothes and materials for the residency.

The day before the dark moon is often a very low energy day for me, but I don’t have that option. I still have to get things done. I will be glad to have this latest eclipse season in the rear-view mirror.

The Scout Crow showed up at the window this morning for a chat with me and with Tessa. Bea is fascinated. The crow also popped around to the side to comment on the new office setup. Between the painting and the Sidewalk Chewing Demons, they’ve stayed away almost all summer. Let’s hope we can get back into our routine with crows! We’ve all missed them.

Have a great weekend, and we’ll catch up on the other side!

Thurs. Sept. 18, 2025: Strategizing

image courtesy of Elmer L. Geissler via pixabay.com

Thursday, September 18, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Sunny and pleasant

You can read about the latest on the garden here.

The copies of the Nina Bell books are on the way, and will be there in time for the Boiler House reading. I was worried the copies of CELLULOID CRIMES wouldn’t arrive in time, but they got here yesterday, the first to hit. I’m so excited to read everyone else’s stories.

Most of the morning yesterday was catching up on email and following up on things from Tuesday. I want to work on the grant proposal that needs to go out soon, but I think that will have to wait until the weekend. I’m thinking about the project proposal part of that, and need to play with it a little more. I got out an LOI, and started the process of scheduling an online chat I was invited to host near the end of October. I looked at the specs for another grant proposal, and I have to wait one more year before applying, since I got a grant from them in 2023, so I can’t apply until 2026 for 2027 (although I doubt there will be any grant money next year, but that’s next year. No reason to borrow trouble).

I started to prepare a script submission, but the submission guidelines were so fussy they made my eyes cross. Basically, the submission process takes longer than writing the piece submitted, and is about them being control freaks. We are not a good fit.

Next!

I felt about as creative as wilted lettuce.

I got an email from Pollinator about my flower? Bloom? Pod? Not sure what they’re calling it. I reminded them that I had to drop out because I’d miss the first two weeks, but they said I could jump in on Week 3. Because of the day and time, I can actually make all the meetings, except for the one where I’m on jury duty. I can hop over to the residency apartment and do the call there for the first week. My friend pulled out of the program, and they actually paid attention to that, so I’m not sure why, after a multi-day conversation about not doing it, I was kept in. I’m a little worried it’s disorganized, but we’ll see. Anyway, there seem to be six of us, and the other person who put up her bio sounds really interesting, so we’ll see what happens.

I got out an article pitch, another LOI, and updated the Fearless Ink site, giving myself a raise. While I prefer per project rates, I have listed some starting rates for per hour on work, ZOOM consultations, per scripted minute starting rates, and per finished hour audio rates. I need to get Ink-Dipped Advice up and running again. I’ll have to sit down and come up with topics, then batch write a few months at a time and schedule them to post.

I found two more residency calls that interest me, and also one that I sent to a friend, who is very excited to see if it’s a good fit.

I got a good chunk of work done on the ghostwriting, although not as much as I hoped. I will have to make up for it today. I got very little done on CONSEQUENCE. I read about two thirds of the next book for review, and will finish it tonight, so I can write the review tomorrow (and, hopefully, get my next assignment). I would like to have enough so I can invoice the batch before the residency.

Leftovers for dinner, which was good. For pleasure, I’m reading biographies of Ida Lupino, who was pretty amazing, and of Emily Hahn. How did I not know all about Emily Hahn before this? I must have read her work in the 70’s and 80’s. What an amazing woman. You can get a taste of her life here. Her courage, determination, and creativity were amazing.

I actually slept really well for once, in spite of my bad hip giving me a lot of trouble these last few days. Up early, out of the house to the laundromat. It had been a few weeks since I was able to get there, thanks to the Sidewalk Chewing Demons, so I had two large loads. But it got done. I have folding and putting away ahead of me today, and ironing over the weekend.

The morning writing session was more about practicality than creativity, but I guess there are times it will tilt toward one more than the other. When it’s practical, it helps clear my head.

On today’s agenda: work on one of the plays, fold and put away laundry, work on the ghostwriting. I have meditation with the group in Concord online in a few minutes, and a freelancers’ meeting online at noon. I want to finish the ghostwriting draft tonight so I can polish it tomorrow and send it off. Let’s hope I can get it done!

I’m worried about the amount of work I’m pushing off onto the weekend. I need to have at least one day that’s not built around work. But it’s also the lead-up to the residency, so I have to work ahead. I may well just have to work through this weekend and next weekend. It will be worth it, once I’m in the studio and with the other members of the Collective.

Have a good one.

Wed. Sept. 17: Creative Nurturance

photo by Devon Ellington

Wednesday, September 17, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Chiron, Saturn, Uranus Retrograde

Cloudy and cool

I took the photo above yesterday, from the graveyard behind the Meeting House in Lenox.

Yesterday had a rough start, but, fortunately, improved.

We pay through the nose every year for Microsoft office – a subscription, not a license. And they’ve stopped customer support. You cannot get a live chat. The phone is not an option. I need live chat. But all they do is send you in an endless loop to articles that have nothing to do with the fact that my Word is corrupted, and no amount of online repairs is helping. Uninstalling and re-installing the corrupted version DOES NOT HELP.

I’m in the process of getting Libre Office, although I cannot use it for the ghostwriting and then save to .docx – that is part of the contract, ONLY working in the latest edition of Microsoft Word. This is going to be an issue.

The noise from the Sidewalk Chewing Demons was, again, out of control in the morning, making it next to impossible to get much done.

And Public Dis-Service refuses to give out any information.

And then, of course, it was a disturbing news day. Two black men found hanged in Mississippi. I don’t care that the cops pretend there’s “no foul play” involved, they’re lying. It’s horrifying, the levels of white supremacy to which this country reverts to. And then Robert Redford’s death.

The Sidewalk Chewing Demons hit something they shouldn’t have (again), and the fire department had to come out, check it, and scold them. Everything is clearly marked and yet, they still are careless.

The font problem has to do mostly with Word’s new default font of Aptos. I’m having less trouble keeping everything in Times New Roman.

I wrote 9 pages of the new play, working title CONNECTION. I will move between CONNECTION and CONSEQUENCE over the next few weeks, and see what has the weight to carry a full-length. If neither do, I am in trouble.

A friend sent a possible idea to me, reminding me that I’d been interested in that setting a few years ago, and it’s a good reason to get back to it. It’s always such fun and such an honor when someone has an experience and thinks of it in relation to my work!

I’m telling you, ideas are like cookies, and come in batches.

Pulled myself together, got all my bags for the day sorted, and headed out. The Sidewalk Chewing Demons were still on a time out from the Fire Department, so I could actually get the heck off my street.

The drive to Lenox was lovely. I made a quick stop in Adams at the Fresh Market to pick up a loaf of bread (to go with the soup) and some apple turnovers, then continued down to Lenox. Traffic wasn’t too bad, except in Pittsfield. I mean, I used to drive in New York City, in Providence, in all kinds of cities. There is zero reason to get stressed about driving in Pittsfield.

I did not use Murder Maps, which meant I found my way without trouble. I was there a little early, so I took a wander in the cemetery. I photographed several of the monuments – one to a man and his sons who were lost at sea, another to a couple who were close to 100 when they died, and more. I want to learn more about the history of the Meeting House (It used to be called “the Church on the Hill”).

There was a lovely lunch set up in the foyer of the church (probably not the right term for that part of the church), but it was the greeting area between the doors and the church itself. The read-through/rehearsal was in the church itself, which is simple and light.

The invited audience included the costume designer, the props designer (who used to live in Brewster, on Cape. She and her husband left the Cape for many of the same reasons I did, frustrated with the lack of community/opportunity for working artists), the theatre’s graphic designer, a woman who’s working on a project about music’s healing properties, a board member, a potential board member, and an actress who is also a literature professor and works at the Tenement Museum in NYC, who is about to go into rehearsals for the lead in a play about one of Voltaire’s lovers who was also a scientist (it will be done in Princton, NJ). She will probably join the literary committee for next season. We were, to say the least, an eclectic group, but had a lot to talk about!

The read-through itself went very well. I’d seen two of the actresses in CRY IT OUT earlier this season. They already have a working shorthand, and it was lovely to see them expand to include the third actress with whom they have not worked with before. The understudy is also a delight. The presentations for set and costume were very interesting. The play itself hits me a lot because I lived through a good bit of what’s depicted in the play, and it brings up things I thought I’d dealt with, but could obviously get another look.

I’m honored and grateful to be included in the process.

I got out of there around 4:30, a half hour later than expected. I considered going straight home, but I wanted to try and make it to yoga. Even with traffic, I made it to yoga with 8 minutes to spare, which meant I could get changed out of my Real People clothes and into yoga clothes.

It was a small class, and I’m really glad I went, because it was a good balance from the exciting and emotional rehearsal.

Home, dinner, read a little bit in the evening. The front step has been fixed, so now one can actually get to and from the house without having to leap or climb.

The Chewy order was delivered, which means the cats have their preferred wet food again. And they now have a catnip pickle to share, which is almost as much of a hit as the catnip bananas.

I got a rejection from an anthology story. The rejection part happens. Either it’s what they want or it’s not. But a red flag came up, because the story around the anthology changed. I was invited to submit to this anthology, and asked not to discuss details about it, because a “small group” of writers was invited into it, and the editor didn’t want to stir up bad feelings. I was kind of on the fence, because the editor wants pieces written on spec and doesn’t give a firm acceptance until after two rounds of edits, which I think is rather exploitative, but I did it the first time (in an open submission call), and it wasn’t a big deal. That story is going to be in an anthology that comes out next spring. They then invited me into this anthology, again, expecting two rounds of edits before a firm acceptance. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I gave it a go. I mean, it was an “invitation” – an editor doesn’t invite someone into a project like this without being pretty sure the style and substance the person brings to the table fits the vision. In the rejection, they admitted that they had invited in 3x the number of writers as there were slots in the anthology.

To me, that is a red flag. I’ve been invited into anthologies before, and I’ve also edited anthologies where I’ve invited authors to submit. The general protocol for invited anthologies is you have a pretty good idea of the quality and reliability of those you invite. You have your first-choice list. You have a few second-choice names in case something happens, and the first-choice authors can’t deliver. If there are still openings after that, there’s often an open call, or x amount of slots are left for an open call from the beginning, in order to expand the editor’s pool of working writers. “Inviting” 3x more writer than there are slots is, to me, slimy. I understand wanting options, but that puts it somewhere between invitation and open call, and I think that should be clear from the beginning. I am not comfortable with that working model.

The editor mentioned wanting to work with me again, but I am not sure I want to work this way again. I will see how the anthology that comes out next year sells, and make a decision from there. Between now and then, I will sit on the sidelines as an observer. The editor can do whatever they want. But I need to decide if that’s where I want to put my time and energy.

I already have a few potential markets for the story. The day I’d sent it off, some calls came into my inbox, and I thought, “Oh, story X would be perfect for this; too bad it’s spoken for.” Now that it is no longer spoken for, I can submit them (and to higher paying markets). So it all works out.

But I need to figure out my boundary and my comfort level on this protocol and work from there.

It’s probably part of the reason I struggled to get this story written and out on deadline. Part of me knew.

Slept pretty well, and, in fact, overslept, which meant I missed my window to go to the laundromat. Since I haven’t been able to go for a few weeks (and laundry has piled up), I will go either tomorrow or Friday.

I could not settle into the 15-minute writing session this morning, so that was a bit of a bust.

I need to catch up on all the email I couldn’t answer yesterday in my travels, and then get some creative work of my own done before switching over to the ghostwriting. The bulk of the day will be on the ghostwriting.

Fingers crossed there’s not too much noise and I can actually work.

Have a good one!

Tues. Sept. 16, 2025: Headache Inducing

image courtesy of Mahbub Hasan via pixabay.com

Tuesday, September 16, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Cloudy and mild

Hello! I hope you had a great weekend.

Friday was just a gorgeous day, weather-wise. I had a good 15-minute writing session planning the new story. I was out of the house around 9 AM and heading to Williamstown, stopping for gas along the way. The road to the Clark was worse than it’s ever been, with the construction. I have a VW rabbit and I was scraping the sides of the barriers. Other cars were getting stuck.

Got there early (of course). Sat and did a short meditation at the reflecting pool, which is just gorgeous. I was so happy to be there.

Chatted with some fellow attendees at the coffee before the symposium started. The café baked “Vanessa Bell’s Favorite Apple Squares” which were dense and moist and delightfully delicious. I wonder if it was actually one of her recipes, or one inspired by her. Whatever the answer, they were yummy.

The symposium on the A ROOM OF HER OWN exhibit was wonderful. Wendy Hitchmough talked about how Vanessa Bell’s studio was subversive for the time. I did not know she also designed dresses. I knew about the furniture and curtains, but not the clothing. A lot of what we now call “dopamine decorating” with saturated colors uses techniques Bell pioneered. I also realize how much of my impression of her and her work was colored through Virginia Woolf’s writing and letters, rather than direct experience with the work itself, so I’m making that adjustment. Rowan Bain talked about May Morris and how she ran her embroidery workshops, paid women fairly, and trained them  in both the art and the craft. Dr. Jasmine Allen spoke about Mary Lowndes partnering with Alfred Drury to build a profitable stained glass business, unusual for a woman at that time. She was also a writer and activist. Rebecca Stratton talked about Gwen John and how, in contrast to Vanessa Bell’s color washes and comfort, she kept her living/working spaces spartan and then used light, open or closed windows, and a few carefully chosen props in her work.

The information shared by the speakers was terrific, and I am determined to hunt down all their books and read them. They let me see the people and places and situations in new ways, which is very exciting. I got several ideas for projects out of the day, including either a play or a novel set in May Morris’s embroidery workshop with the women she employed. Rowan Bain, who presented the paper on May’s workshop, told me where I can find that information, and when Rowan’s book of May’s letters comes out (in about two years), you can be sure I will add it to my personal library.

I had a light lunch on the break, sitting out again by the reflecting pool. After lunch, there was a terrific panel discussion with all the presenters, and then we all went through the exhibit, as a group to discuss pieces and people. The presenters were so genuinely interested in talking with us about the work, which made it more like colleagues hanging out than a presentation. Fascinating, and I will think about what I learned for months.

Which is as it should be.

I masked during most of the day (not during lunch outside), being in an enclosed space with strangers, some of whom were sneezing and coughing and should have stayed the hell home. I don’t care if it’s “just a cold.” I don’t want your damn germs. We don’t live in that world anymore, where anyone can take the risk.

Once it was all done (overstimulated much?), I headed back to North Adams. Pharmacy, grocery shopping (I picked up a lettuce instead of a cabbage and had to do a quick exchange), library. I had so many books waiting for me at the library they loaned me an extra tote bag, which I will return this week.

Home, hauled everything up the stairs, put it all away, exhausted.

Charlotte acted out while I was gone (she gets separation anxiety) and spent the day being Bad Kitty. I got her settled when I got home.

Cooked cod sauteed in butter with Spanish rice for dinner, and it was very good.

Went to bed early, exhausted. My mom had a bad night. I have a feeling we will go back to the doctor this week or next week, although she’s showing steady improvement since.

Slept in on Saturday, then up and the morning routine. Worked out some things for the next anthology story. Did a final pass on the one that was due Monday, and got it out on Saturday morning. Hopefully, the slower pace of this will be a good contrast to some of the other pieces and work in the anthology, not be something the editor loathes.

I walked down to the post office to mail some bills and some cards I’d written to friends. I wanted to buy more stamps, but the window is only open on Saturdays from 10-12, and I was there just after 9. I wasn’t about to hang out for an hour. I will get stamps on an errand day later this week.

And that was all I had the energy for, all day. I was an absolute couch potato. Bea got petted and cuddled all day long, much to her delight. I read. I took care of my mom.  I took a nap in the afternoon for about two hours (rare for me). I tried a new chili recipe for dinner, from that cookbook I’ve been using a lot lately. It’s the easiest chili recipe I’ve ever made. I may do the next batch in the slow cooker, to see if that deepens the flavors even more. Although, any time I cook in the slow cooker, I have to remember to add just a little additional seasoning about 15 minutes before serving, to keep it from being bland.

I’m trying to track down a copy of Agness Underwood’s memoir NEWSPAPERWOMAN that isn’t a kazillion dollars (copies of the book sell for just under $300, which, at this point in the game, is not what I want to spend on a research book). I hoped to get it from the library, but CW Mars doesn’t have it, and neither does Commonwealth Catalogue. I may check WorldCat and see if I can order it through ILL. Underwood was a crime reporter during the golden era in Hollywood, and was one of the original reporters on the Black Dahlia case. She was removed from the story (via “promotion”) and had thoughts about it. I’m curious about her entire career, and also that of Celeste Sibley. The autobiography I found of Celeste’s is not longer available through Commonwealth, but a memoir by her daughter is there, so I put in a request. If I’ve gotten my dates aligned, Celeste may well have known Anita Minter, one of my Playland painters. Agness just sounds fascinating, and I want to know more about her days on the crime beat.

Chewy finally had the wet food in stock, and I placed an order. Totally forgetting to add Hoover vacuum bags to the order, for our upright. Since the two upright vacuums I bought since the move are now basically useless (including the Bissell), I want to see if I can get our old, reliable Hoover some bags and get that going again. The Hoover bags are hard to get around here, but Chewy carries them. I may need to special order them from somewhere else, only I can’t remember if I need Y bags of A bags. I will try to look it up. I think Carr’s hardware may carry them; I will check next time I’m out in that direction. Or I may just toss it into my cart and let it sit there until the next Chewy order (which will be in late October).

The moon woke me around 1:30. Even though it’s waning, it was shining brightly through the window! Very pretty. But it meant Charlotte was very busy for a few hours.

Slept in a little on Sunday, then got up for the morning routine.  Good 15-minute writing session. Ran an early morning errand, successful on some fronts, not on others (no vacuum bags). Got a lecture from a murder of crows who stopped me in the parking lot to catch me up (between the painters and the Sidewalk Chewing Demons, they’ve stayed away from the house). It was to the point where others in the parking lot noticed.

Tessa has decided that she prefers my mother’s chair to all other chairs, and now my mom has to negotiate every day to sit in her own chair. Because the cat always wins.

Did the Community Tarot Reading for the Week and scheduled it to post. You can read it here.

The Chariot card keeps coming up and coming up. Time to pay attention.

I made a batch of turkey-cabbage-pasta soup that made way more than I expected, so much so I had to freeze some of it. I also made a batch of Moosewood’s Golden Cheese soup. Which looks and tastes wonderful, between the cheese and turmeric and potatoes and summer squash. However, the melted cheese gets everywhere, and washing the soup pot meant the melted cheese got stuck in the sponge and it just did not end well. I’m down a scrubbing sponge which is permanently filled with cheese, scrubbed the drain protectors with steel wool, and had to run baking soda and vinegar down the drains, just to make sure (the drains are fine, only the sponge was a casualty).

And then I had to cook dinner! Chicken with mashed potatoes and a special carrot-parsnip dish that I made up a few years ago that’s a fall favorite.

I felt like all I did was chop vegetables, cook, and wash dishes. It was only about five hours’ worth of work, all told, but it felt like much more.

Extremely angry about the Fox News host advocating that the homeless should be murdered via involuntary lethal injection, and that’s considered “free speech” but anything anyone says condemning white supremacy or advocating for human rights is “divisive” (Matthew Dowd fired by MSNBC for telling the truth). I am sick and tired of only right-wing extremists having rights, and the rest of us are all supposed to acquiesce. It’s more blatant now than ever, but it’s been going on for years. It happened in most spaces on Cape Cod, which is one reason I stopped attending many events when I lived there.

I read HUNTER’S HEART RIDGE, the second book in a series by Sarah Stewart Taylor. I liked it a lot (I liked the first book in the series, too). They are set in the 1960’s, and the juxtaposition of world events to small town life and people just trying to get by and do the best they can is very well done. I hope the series continues.

I was very happy about Stephen Colbert’s Emmy win. Well deserved.

Slept reasonably well. Up early, morning routine. 15-minute writing session was more of a brain dump trying to find my way into the day’s writing, but I guess that’s useful in its own way. I’m in an “exploring tools” phase to see what works and what doesn’t (at the moment) to keep things on track. The more rigid the schedule, the less it works. It’s finding tools to open the channels of brainpower to hit the deadlines without the sense of “having” to do something specific for x minutes. And yet, occasional virtual writing sessions for specific amounts of time, such as those with Honor Roll Playwrights, often work well for me.

Took out the garbage. Because the sanitation trucks are denied access to the lot where the dumpster sits (due to the Sidewalk Chewing Demons), it’s overflowing. I did the best I could. I’m not keeping bags of trash in the apartment for weeks because Public Services can’t be bothered to serve the public.

It’s now been six weeks and they haven’t responded to anyone’s contact. Not mine, not the city councilor’s. It takes five minutes to answer an email. So, yes, I’m putting a document into the public record.

And they still haven’t fixed the aprons between the walkways and the new sidewalks.

First part of the morning was dealing with practicalities. I hate to use some of my best writing time for that, but it was necessary.

Of course, as soon as I sat down to write creatively, the Sidewalk Chewing Demons showed up and the noise was off the charts. I am so sick of this. We have had nothing but disruption since late April. Just stop already.

I’d start to write. The noise accelerated. I stopped. A few minutes later, the noise stopped. I started again. The noise started up again. Enough to make one paranoid. I mean, it was kind of funny and kind of not. And made it impossible to get any real work done.

I barely got the new anthology story started, but some words are better than no words. It’s supposed to be comic noir. But if I write it focusing on the funny, it won’t be funny. I have to build the story, beat-to-beat, so it comes across organically and the humor can land properly. The more effortless a comedy seems, the more tightly it’s actually structured. But the humor has to grow organically, and then be built into the structured beats, or it’s unsatisfying.

I use Chobani’s creamy oatmilk because it has the best consistency and taste, in my opinion, and I can cook with it as well as use it in coffee. However, since they are now working with Corrupt Daughter Thing, I will no longer buy from them. I will finish what I have, and that’s it. I will experiment with others and find something better. Not giving them a damn penny.

The Honor Roll Playwrights session was good. It was small, but we got a chance to chat before we started. I did about 11 pages of CONSEQUENCE. I ran out of steam after about an hour and a half into he two hour session. I need to ponder a couple of things before I can continue. While I’m doing some intentional repetition in this section, I don’t feel it builds enough. I may need to go in and change some stuff, layer in. But the first draft is me telling to story to myself, even if I’m worried, on a technical level, that I can’t sustain it as a full-length. I can layer and make adjustments in future drafts. And maybe it’s not meant to be a full-length. But until I tell myself the entire story, I won’t know. Of course, literally two minutes before the session ended, I had an idea for the next section.

I was angered by an email from a submission. They didn’t accept the monologue, which is fine. That’s part of the process. But they “value my voice” so they want me to make unpaid videos for their site.

Bite me.

That is just insulting.

Yeah, not having anything to do with that company. I didn’t realize they had a Substack when I submitted, or I would not have submitted (I think they set it up since the submission call went out). It’s not surprising that someone who sits on a platform funded as Substack is funded behaves less than ethically.

But the whole thing was slimy and left me feeling very down.

By the time the playwrighting session was done, the noise was so out of control right outside the building I thought my head would explode. The cats were very unhappy, and so was I.

The Sidewalk Chewing Demons poured asphalt where the aprons connecting the building steps to the sidewalks used to be – the ones they tore out. But, in our building, they did not replace the step, so it’s a double height up to the walkway now. Impossible for elderly or those with mobility issues.

And there’s no design concept, either. Nothing works together. It looks like the haphazard patchwork it is.

The noise was off the charts.

The font is changing constantly on this document back into wing dings. I’ve run fixes and re-installs. I am sick of this.

I could not get any ghostwriting done.

I had a raging migraine by the time the Sidewalk Chewing Demons left AND the Chewy order could not be delivered.

I got some reading done in the evening. I had hoped to ghostwrite, but couldn’t settle. I cooked a nice dinner, though.

Woke up at 4 AM from a nightmare. Had a couple of epiphanies on a few things, and then an idea for a play, tied to some of those epiphanies. That made for an excellent 15-minute writing session, making notes so I don’t forget when its time arrives.

I am going to try to get some ghostwriting done this morning before I leave for the WAM reading in Lenox. From WAM, I will go directly to yoga. My parking spot better be available when I get home.

I have no idea if any of this will post legibly.

I am frustrated.

Have a good one!

Mon. Sept. 15, 2025: Intent for the Week — Enjoy the Transition

image courtesy of Annette Meyer via pixabay.com

Monday, September 15, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Urnaus Retograde

Cloudy and pleasant

The leaves are just starting to turn. Few are as vibrant, yet, as the one in the picture above.

The Community Tarot Reading for the Week is available here. The Chariot leads, with the energy of the week. That card came up 4 times between yesterday and today, so I guess I better pay attention! We are still using the Tarot of the Owls mini deck, which is both adorable and reads well.

I will fill you in about Friday in tomorrow’s post. It was an amazing and inspiring day.

I have a lot of practicalities to deal with today, but I also need to start the next anthology story (due on the 30th to the editor, and yes, this one will start in the proper genre), and also have a two-hour virtual writing session with the Honor Roll Playwrights.

Let’s hope all this blocked out writing time allows for flow, instead of sitting there wondering what word to type next!

The week is very much head-down working for me — in fact, the next several weeks will be that, leading up to the residency. I plan to enjoy the work as much as possible.

What’s your intent for the week?

Fri. Sept. 12, 2025: Craving Art

image courtesy of espeis via pixabay.com

Friday, September 12, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Partly sunny and pleasant

Yesterday’s Table of Silence Project was gorgeous. It had the largest number of dancers I’ve seen involved since I started watching (during the pandemic). At least sixty, maybe closer to a hundred. The ritual aspect is so powerful, and the audience’s respect and reverence appreciated. Usually, in an open, outdoor performance, there’s one jerk in the audience who tries to make it about themselves, especially during a ritual, but the audiences for this have been consistently respectful.

Nearly 800 people attended the livestream. Some of them were former dancers in the project. Others were first responders who’d been there and later worked the pile. The project matters to them.

I got a response from an editor regarding a question I had about a submission call. I’d completely forgotten about it. The answer put it in my wheelhouse, but it has a Sept. 30 deadline, so I better get cracking. That will be a priority once I get this anthology story out. I know when I first contacted the editor I had a solid idea for what I wanted to do – a comic noir. But I didn’t detail it in the question, and I didn’t make any notes. So I’m starting from scratch.

Guess we know what this morning’s 15-minute writing session focused on, huh? And possibly the ones for the rest of the weekend.

I puttered along, working on the anthology story due Monday, polishing, feeling better about it. As I prepared the document to send, I pulled up the submission guidelines again (as I usually do) to make sure I’ve hit all of them.

And discovered I’d written the story in the wrong genre.

THE WRONG GENRE.

The stories for this anthology are ekphrastic/inspired by specific public domain source material. I’d focused on the themes and atmosphere of the source material, creating a contemporary short story. It feels boastful to call it “literary fiction” but technically, that’s where it hit.

It’s supposed to be a crime story.

Once I got past feeling like a complete fool, I leaned back into craft. I teach a class called “One Story, Many Voices” where we write a base story as literary fiction, and then modify it into various genres to see what intersects where and how to layer in genre elements, and how the base story both evolves, and can serve as a solid foundation.

So I looked at this through the lens of keeping the themes and atmosphere, and layering in crime.

It’s a slow reveal, and it actually reveals two crimes, without overly explaining either of them. It leaves a little bit ambiguous, while also touching on gossip, cognitive decline, misogyny, and domestic violence, without being graphic. I had some references early on that now have even more layers of meaning, but the actual crimes aren’t revealed until fairly late in the story, with a twist near the end.

Hopefully, I’ve pulled it off with enough skill, so the editor likes it.

It’s the same editor as the story that was just accepted for the anthology coming out next year, the story set in a summer theatre on Cape Cod; but the style and the voice of this one is very different. And she invited me into the anthology, rather than doing an open call (which is how I found her for the last anthology), so I want to deliver something that works.

The literary fiction version was well under word count, and the new version is about eight hundred words more, but still well under word count, so we have some wiggle room.

I wonder if I struggled with this initially because somewhere in my subconscious I remembered the guidelines and knew I wasn’t following them.

I’m going to let it sit and then read it when I get back from the symposium tonight.

We had a small, but good group for #FreelanceFriends at noontime. I’m glad I showed up. They’d like me to host one of the chats, but I have to think about a topic. It would probably be in late October or early November.

All of this put me way behind what I wanted to do on the ghostwriting that afternoon. Most of the writing session was about tightening and clarifying, rather than moving forward, but that’s necessary in order to move forward.

Made chocolate mousse and heated up the rest of the crockpot chicken for dinner. My mom hadn’t been herself most of the day and got worse in the evening, so I ended up taking her to the ER.  I would have gone to Urgent Care, but the one near us closed at the end of August, and the one in Pittsfield would have closed for the night before we got there. So, ER it was.

The ER was full. They had to see us first in a triage room, then we waited in the general waiting room until a bed opened up in the ER itself. Her blood pressure was very high, which I’ve noticed ties in to her being more confused. While we were waiting, a fight broke out inside the treatment area (not the waiting area) and security had to go in and restrain someone. When we finally got into the ER proper, she was checked out, given some antibiotics, and we could go home. She started feeling better almost immediately, and was almost back to herself by the time we got home.

I asked if the hospital pharmacy planned to give COVID shots, since CVS was still refusing to give me one, in spite of the state’s mandate. The triage nurse didn’t know, but asked permission to let people up the chain of command know so they could let the state know to bitch slap CVS, and also possibly set up a booster clinic session at the hospital.

I have a feeling I won’t be able to plan/schedule my booster this year for a good time. I’ll have to catch it on the fly, and just power through, no matter how sick it makes me.

I was also glad to see that the staff is back to masking (we were, too, but we always do in indoor public situations, especially healthcare where there are, you know, sick people around).

Had trouble getting to sleep last night, but slept hard once I did. The 15-minute writing session was good this morning. I outlined the anthology story due at the end of the month. I usually don’t outline short stories, but I didn’t want to forget my direction again.

My mom is well enough so I don’t have to cancel out of the symposium. I will monitor her medications this morning before I go. Even with the whiteboard, I have to pay attention, because she sometimes gets confused.

Today, I am off to a symposium on the current exhibit at the Clark. The exhibit closes on Sunday, so this is my last chance to learn about it, and see any of the pieces one last time.

On my way back, I will do the pharmacy/grocery/library errands.

Hopefully, my parking spot will be free by the time I get back!

I’m supposed to go to an event tomorrow, but I don’t know if I have the energy, especially since Murder Maps tells me the location doesn’t exist and tries to send me 2 hours east (it’s supposed to be 20 minutes north). I know the location exists because I have the address and there are photos posted on social media, but Murder Maps insists it does not. I’m going to see if I can find a paper map of the area and find it.

A quiet weekend might be just the ticket, though, and maybe I will just stay home.

Thurs. Sept. 11, 2025: 24th Anniversary

image courtesy of  David Z via pixabay.com

Thursday, September 11, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Misty and cool

Today is the 24th Anniversary of 9/11. It is always a heavy day for me, and always a day of wondering how different everything would be today (and would have been different after the attack) had the already compromised Supreme Court allowed all the votes to be counted in the 2000 election, instead of stopping the vote count and handing it to Bush. I mean, what’s going on now can be traced to Reagan’s long game, but there are also specific turning points that should be re-examined.

You can virtually attend (or watch a replay) of The Table of Silence Project honoring it here. This year’s performance begins at 8:10 AM EST.

You can read the latest on the garden over on Gratitude and Growth here.

Yesterday, I had to do the quarterly check-in with Johns Hopkins on their long-range COVID study. I think it’s supposed to be a 3-year study (unless the funding’s been pulled). If I remember correctly, we are in our second year. Spectrum was dumb enough to send me a customer satisfaction survey, and they got a few choice words.

I am researching routers compatible with Spectrum so I can get rid of the one I rent that offers less and less service as they raise the rate to force me to rent additional “pods.” The company claims that the router works for a space double the size of our square footage and only larger houses need the pods, yet our coverage shrinks every few weeks as the price goes up, without the 30-day written notice required by the state. And they refuse to do anything about it. I’m hoping someone in one of the cohorts is tech savvy enough so I can hire them to come and do the switch. It will probably be in November.

I got out a script submission. I finished the draft of the anthology story. Now I can let it sit for a day or so before I do revisions, and I’ll get it out on time. It’s shorter than I expected, but hopefully, it’s what the editor wants.

There was another attempted hack on my finances, so the banks were notified and forwarded the attempt.

It was relatively quiet in the morning. No Sidewalk Chewing Demons on our street, although I think they were in the neighborhood. Which was great, but it was hard to believe in the quiet and enjoy it. I moved my car as soon as possible to my regular space. And it’s going to sit there until I leave for the symposium tomorrow. I better have a parking space when I return.

FedEx finally could make it down the street to deliver the Chewy order. We now have plenty of dry food, but the wet food is still out of stock. They will either have to eat a different kind of wet food or only get dry food next week, if it’s still out.

I had an excellent session on the ghostwriting, and am exactly where I hoped I would be. Another good session today, and I will feel good about having tomorrow off from it, because I am where I want to be, and on track to get this assignment in a little early, too.

I have plenty of thoughts about yesterday’s murder of someone I will not mourn, but nothing of value to add to the conversation. I remind people how Melissa Hortman’s murder was just shrugged off by the same people who are now wailing and rending their garments performatively, hopiing to incite further violence.

I will watch The Table of Silence and do my annual ceremonies for the day. I may do a revision pass on “Scent Memory.” I may do some work on the play. I am going to play it by ear this morning, and see how much quiet reflection I need. This afternoon, I will do some work on the ghostwriting. Tonight’s in-person meeting was cancelled, for which I am grateful, so I just have a virtual meeting with the library cohort. I will put together what I need for tomorrow’s symposium. I’m headed out around 9 and won’t be back until the late afternoon. I’ll run my usual Friday errands (pharmacy, grocery shop, library) on the way back, so I’ll sit down and do the meal planning today instead of tomorrow morning.

This morning’s 15-minute writing session was good, although it sometimes veered into more practicality than creativity. But I figured some stuff out, which is always a good thing.

I wish you all a gentle day.

Wed. Sept. 10, 2025: Unnecessary Obstacles

image courtesy of Adam Evertsson  via pixabay.com

Wednesday, September 10, 2025

Waning Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Happy Wednesday!

I have a spell of the day up at Llewellyn for today (as Cerridwen Iris Shea). You can read it here.

Tomorrow is the 24th anniversary of 9/11. You can attend the Table of Silence project in honor of it virtually here. It begins at 8:10, when the first plane hit.

I took out the garbage yesterday (literal, not metaphorical). The entrance to the parking lot is now completely flat with the street. No runoff. Which will be a problem with Berkshire weather. Did they just not consult an engineer on this project, or did they hire a cheap one who got his certification off the back of a cereal box?

Especially with the escalating effects of climate change, all of this needs to be taken into consideration.

I got out a residency application. It’s a long shot, but I’ve always wanted to go, and never tried, so why not? I let the ghostwriting team know I will be out of the office on Friday and Tuesday. I may have to work on Sunday to make sure I stay on track. Or work longer hours on Monday and Wednesday next week. It will somehow all work. I dealt with some fussy paperwork, which of course, took longer than I hoped.

The noise was off the charts, from the Sidewalk Chewing Demons, and they have the whole street blocked off. Again.

And Public Services is all, la, la, la, we’ll just ignore it until the project is over and then it doesn’t matter. It does, and I am putting a formal complaint about them into the city’s public record.

Fed Ex couldn’t get down the street to deliver the Chewy order again. And won’t let me into the system to make notes to ease the delivery process for both the driver and for me.

If the city is going to close roads, we need to know AHEAD of time, and we need to know for how long.

At lunchtime, I discovered that Tessa had been locked out on the enclosed porch for the morning. I’d chased Charlotte in when I closed it off to keep out the dust. I didn’t see Tessa under a chair. I opened the porch to let the air circulate and she shot back into the apartment. She was perfectly safe there, but she is understandably upset with me, and I will have to grovel for days.

The script coverage flash drive is officially retired and filed.

I read another of the plays for WAM. We have six to read this month. I’m reading one per day. I read the scripts and take notes (similar to coverage notes, but specific to the discussion parameters), and then fill out the forms for each when I’ve read all of them and can discuss them in relationship to each other.

I worked for a couple of hours on the ghostwriting. I’m almost half finished, which is great, since I will be on other projects for a couple of days between now and the deadline. It feels like it’s going well.

Packed up and went to yoga, running a couple of errands on the way. Yoga was good; everyone is feeling stressed, so it was nice to relax in company. When I got home, the jackass downstairs had moved his car (for no discernible reason), taking up two of other tenant spots, so everyone was trying to juggle to adjust. I’m so sick of this, and it will only get worse once the overnight street parking is forbidden.

Dinner, reading, puttering around. Tessa finally forgave me. I’m trying to get Bea and Willa to spend calm time together, so Willa stops fussing at Bea.

I had to run another repair scan, this time on the main flashdrive on which I keep many documents. Just to be safe, I’ll do another backup today. I also have to do a computer update. Of course, as I was typing this, it went ahead and did the update. And then, as soon as I opened the file this morning, it was all wing ding fonts again. So I ran another repair.

Urgh. I hope it doesn’t contaminate the ghostwriting files, too. It’s very frustrating. I have a feeling I will have to send it in for repair. All because of the attempted hack.

Up too late last night, puttering on things. Slept badly, with nightmares. Up early.

At least the 15-minute writing session was excellent. It’s starting to do what it’s meant to do, and that’s hopeful. It’s shaken some interesting material loose, and that’s the purpose of the experiment.

On today’s agenda: the anthology story (I don’t know why I’m struggling so much with it),and the ghostwriting. I will also read the next play for the literary committee and continue work on the program for the reading and the other materials needed for it.

That seems like a reasonable schedule, so I hope it doesn’t get derailed!

Have a good one!