The moon is low tonight

Today I got my main birthday present from the husband: Cable TV! We've been living in the dark like cave-people long enough. Network TV has sufficed all these years, with the intermittent addition of basic thirteen ... but I wanted more.

I think it mostly has to do with me working from home, and leaving the house so little - except to travel. When I had a day-job, and/or when I was much more sociable in Seattle, it seemed like I wasn't missing anything. Now that I routinely spend days at a time without going any farther than my back yard ... well. Sometimes you just want to veg out to something other than QVC and the local news.

So I asked for cable, for my birthday. (Which was yesterday - but the installer couldn't get out until today.) Cable, and a bottle of my favorite rum. My husband came through gloriously, providing both of those things and another few goodies too. All in all, a marvelously pleasant day.

* * *

Today, though - like I said, the cable installer came, and the poor guy turned out to have a dog phobia.

On a related note: let me just tell you now, it is VERY MANLY how our 85-pound pooch will whimper like a baby when he does not successfully troll for cuddles. (Not from us, thank God. But all new visitors must pay the snuggle-tax, or else be cried upon.)

Very manly indeed.

* * *

In other news, come Friday we'll have a new HVAC unit.

Our present model was installed circa 1987, and has developed a veritable host of bad habits - not least of all, the aggravating (and possibly dangerous) tendency to chuck its exterior panels all over the yard. No, seriously. I replace them every time I notice they've sprung loose and gone walkabout, but it always feels like an exercise in futility. Surely the moment I turn around, a rusty sheet of metal will pop free and shoot off into the grass, laughing at me. Maybe slicing my feet off, if I catch it wrong. I don't know. Anything's possible.

Also delightful: when the old unit isn't shedding its rust-pocked skin, it's making weird noises and collecting dead leaves and grass into awesome little snowdrifts inside its belly. Seriously, it's a wonder we don't have squirrels nesting up in there. Hell, maybe we do.

Brace yourself for eviction, suburban wildlife.

* * *

Speaking of. I accidentally surprised the (possibly literal) crap out of a squirrel in the attic the other night. Went up there to put some stuff away, and the little bastard was napping in a box beside my winter sweaters.

He was like, "AUGH!" and I was like "AUGH!" and I stumbled backwards and he stumbled backwards and we basically got as far away from one another as we could manage, as quickly as we could manage it.

(Our attic isn't sealed. Squirrels are a known quantity, until we can either build out the space or install a force field. Such is life.)

* * *

Anyway, here’s today's progress on my modern pseudo-noir young-adult mystery with murder, medical blackmail, pop culture myth-making, missing persons, and a digital Hail Mary that's become an international sensation:
Project: Princess X
Deadline: January 1, 2014
New words written: 975 (gag.)
Present total word count: 16,082 words



Things accomplished in fiction: Did some more reading, agreed to a business-type relationship with the weird kid who lives downstairs.

Next up: Pizza with Dad, speculation, and a quest for hints and clues - which aren't quite the same thing.

Things accomplished in real life: Daily jaunt around the neighborhood with the dog even though it was pouring outside, as if the dog gives a damn; kept the dog company while he was in exile during the cable installation; exchanged a few important emails; paid a couple of bills; did dishes; finished yesterday's laundry; hiked down the street a ways for lunch; not much else.

Other: Terrible word count, yes. But it's my first word count at all in awhile, so cut me some slack, eh? Or don't. I probably don't deserve any. [:: sigh ::]

Bonus! other: There is no bonus other. I'm too busy channel surfing. Later, gators...

Number of fiction words so far this year: 116,567