Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. It is still very hot and muggy out, so I am coming to you today from my super cool and comfy flop space in the dining room. I do not know why they call it the dining room, because that is not where my dish is. My dish is in Mama’s room, and I am such a good girl that, last year, when it was hot, and Uncle tried to feed me in the living room, I would not do it. I looked at him, all sad and confused, and showed him where my food goes. Because he is smart, he moved it to the right place and then I could eat. So, I do not know why the humans call this the dining room, but it is where I flop when I want to stay cool, but the humans walk through my hallway too much.
Anyway, Anty’s rule is that I have to talk about her writing first, so her most recent Buried Under Romance post is here, and it looks like this:
This past week, Anty talked about the different kinds of romance novels with American settings. She only now remembers that Janet Dailey wrote a series with books set in all fifty states, but that is not very useful when she wrote the discussion post last week. That is okay, though, because this has been a week with a lot of things to distract her. First, she twisted her ankle early on Monday morning, while she was getting dressed and Uncle was asleep. Since I am a kitty, and have a built-in fur coat, I do not fully understand the whole getting dressed thing, but it did remind Anty why she prefers dresses to pants. She has never hurt herself while putting on a dress. She did not get hurt very badly, only a little, and still made her meeting with Miss N. She is walking fine now, which is a good thing, because this has been a week where Anty has to do a lot of things.
Maybe the biggest thing was the time her computer exploded. Or imploded. Not literally, in either case, but there Anty was, talking to Miss H, when her screen began to flicker wildly and then go completely black. Anty may or may not have said some bad words when that happened. I am not allowed to say, in either case, so that I may retain some semblance of paws-ible deniability. Anyway, Anty got her computer to work again, and then, when she was about to post Monday’s blog on Tuesday, (the ankle thing took up a good chunk of Monday) it would not post. She checked the memory, since it had been in the red for quite some time and there it was, the dreaded zero. No room left at all.
After several tries of deleting programs to make enough room to do a system refresh, Anty called in Uncle to help. Uncle knows the signs of an impending Anty meltdown, and took over. He told her the only thing they could do was make the computer the same as it was when she first took it out of the box, and she said that was fine. Maybe it was the heat that contributed to her not freaking out about that, but she had learned to keep all her files on a jump drive, so she was pretty calm about the whole deal, and went off to read The Walking Dead graphic novel while Uncle did what had to be done. That is her comfort read; a book with pictures of zombies. I do not always understand Anty’s choices in these matters, but it works, and it worked this time.
The last two days, Anty has met her writing goals, although she does not have Word or Scrivener installed on her laptop at present. She has been using Word Pad and Google Docs, and that seems to work fine for where she is right now. She has been working on both Her Last First Kiss and the Beach Ball, and had a Skype conference with Anty Melva, to plan out the next few Beach Ball exchanges. That is pretty smooth for a week that started out with injury and computer meltdowns, complicated by weather that can best be described as “giant crock pot.” Anty is still not sure what is up with all of that, but she will probably figure it out soon. At the very least, she has managed to get some reading time in, and that is a very big help. I like to help her by sitting directly under her foot rest, so that she can’t put it down, and thus must remain in her comfy chair, with book, notebook or laptop. One of the many duties of a mews, even if my flop spaces are cooler.
That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,
Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)