Rainy Afternoon Rambles

Raining off and on over here, as best I can tell. Today was the day when my new sleep medication figured out what it was supposed to do, so let’s say I am very well rested today. I hear birdsong and the sound of wheels on wet pavement, and a quick look outside tells me it has indeed rained. It’s been a hot while since I blogged. That happens sometimes. The best way to get back into it is to jump in there and start blabbering, so here we are.

Okay. First of all, I am still not ready for Kate and Toy’s split on This is Us. They are one of my ships. These things take time Shoot, it took me what, a couple of years to watch the Highlander TV series finale. Either the right time will roll around or it won’t. Either way, there is always fanfic if it turns out that’s what I need. I do plan to watch the rest of the farewell season, but don’t necessarily need a front row seat for everything. Has anybody else had an experience like that with a beloved series, book or TV?

Second, I am pretty much listening to “Don’t Tell Anyone,” by Semler, on repeat:

“I want to know your story like I wrote the page” — them’s powerful words for a writer. Also “Don’t tell them that I swore this wouldn’t be my life.” Also, the tune is as catchy as a cold at a daycare center. I mean that in the very best way.

Wait, wait, wait, did I just hear thunder? Because I think I just heard thunder. Thunderstorms are my number one favorite spring/summer weather. I am absolutely here for it if so.

So Wondrous Free
Maryhelen Clague

Oh man oh man oh man, this book. This hit me in the feels and my history loving heart. I was but a wee princess in Westchester County, NY during the Bicentennial, so a historical romance set in that era and place is one thousand percent going to catch my attention. Also, it was part of the giant birthday haul from my friend, Mary, who knows me and my historical romance reading tastes. For those who only know the modern flavor of historical romance, I might shelve this in historical fiction with romantic elements, and it works very well that way too. I don’t recall any on page snugglies, but our heroine, Nabby, must choose between two dashing men, one Patriot, one Loyalist, during a freaking revolution. More of that, please. I want to make there be more of that.

Then there’s Sims. Sims, for me, is the current-day equivalent of my first-grade teacher noting that my schoolwork was MUCH better if I brought dolls to play with during free play time. I never thought I would get as into it as I am, not only playing the game, but creating my own Sims, with tons of custom content, mods, and even learning how to make my own custom content. Not sure how that is going to turn out, but I am looking forward to finding out. It seems to be doing well for my writing, so a-Simming I will go. Picture editing is next, because I love taking screenshots. Does anybody have any experiences with Lightroom? I’ve been curious. I’m already down the ReShade rabbit hole. May as well go all in on the visuals, though the next step does seem to mean ponying up for photo editing software. I’d use it, though, soooo….we shall see.

One more thing. There is now a window open, and there is fresh air coming through that window onto my skin as I sit here in a white t-shirt stolen from Real Life Romance Hero’s stash. Yep. It’s spring.

Anna

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Strange Connections

First of all, I may possibly have Irish blood. I think. My birth mother’s last name could be of English or Irish origin, so we can be fairly sure it’s some sort of British Isles or thereabouts in my bio-ancestry. This has very little to do with today’s blog, except for the fact that A) it’s a starting point for me to blabber, B) I remember being at the house of MJK, well, she was nine, like me, so it was her parents’ home. It was a Victorian house with three stories and a wraparound porch and a triple (or quadruple?) garage that used to be a stable. They still called it the barn. No horses, only cars and a lawnmower, I remember being disappointed about that, even though we were in the middle of a lovely town in Westchester County.

MJK and I went to CCD together (after school religious classes for Catholic kids in public school) The Catholic school was closer to the K family’s house than to mine, so there were times Mama MJK would pick us both up and my mom would come get me from there. Also, my mom and Mama MJK got along well, so they probably considered it convenient that their kids got along, too. As for MJK’s little brother, SK, eh, he was a couple years younger, an energetic lad. All of this comes to mind because I was there on March 17th that year, and we thought it was absolutely hysterical that the weather for the St. Patrick’s Day parade in NYC (I have a lot of initials in this post) did not fit with the season as we saw it. Snow. I remember seeing women holding some sort of banner, in shiny green leotards and I am going to guess pantyhose/nude tights.

We must have seen it on TV or in the newspaper, and I want to say it was the Big Thing for that afternoon. It’s funny the things that stay with us. Right now, I am reading The Woman Behind the Attic, by Andrew Neiderman (aka the VC Andrews ghostwrite. for the last few decades)

Official VC Andrews Biography

While I can’t say I am a fan of the ghostwritten books, the true Andrews canon has a special place in my heart. I remember it being passed around the halls of my school when the books first came out, and even though Foxworth Hall from the Dollenganger series (Jacobean mansion) or Whitefern, from My Sweet Audrina, probably have extremely little with the house I lived in when MJK and I went to CCD together, my brain insists on slotting rooms from that house into those stories. The attic ofr the Flowers in the Attic fame, will always first call to mind my father’s art studio which was also my playroom, and not an attic at all, but the window that looked out on the woods beyond somehow melded with the window on the cover of the book. Don’t ask me how this happens. I don’t make the rules.

For Whitefern, I will need to reread Audrina to remember what the house looked like, but the stairs, on which Important Things Happen will always be the L-shaped stairs from the second story of my childhood home (where the studio/playroom was.) I have no idea how my brain connected those things, as I was several years out of that house when I read those books, but it’s in there, and in there deep. like the memory f being in that kitchen on that day, and the sting of witch hazel on my scraped knee (not the same day, I don’t think, but that same room) or the fun memory games MJK’s dad would incorporate into her birthday parties. The staircase going up all three stories also inserted itself in my reading of Diana Gabaldon’s comments in her Outlander companion, about here being an hombre at the door.

Long story short, writer’s minds are messy places. Aladdin’s caves. There’s also the fact that one of my research rabbit holes is rebooted or spun-off TV shows and their lore. Who knows where that will end up? Wherever it is, I look forward to the journey.

How about you?

Anna

Typing With Wet Paws: Winter Whiteout Edition

Tails up Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. They would be frozen paws if I went outside, which I will not be doing, because A) I am not allowed, B) I don’t know how to do stairs anyway, and C) I can’t work doorknobs. Also D) it’s cold. With snow on the ground. No way am I going outside in that. Or anytime. I am an indoor cat. Granted, I could do a cool trick by flopping on my pack and disappearing because my belly is allll pure white, but then my assorted flavor toe beans would give me away. Far better to stay inside with Mama Anna and perform my Mews duties.

how’s this for an author photo?

I have already helped her make the bed, and after this blog, I can help her (aka sit on) put away the laundry. It smells okay, but it has virtually no cat hair on it when it comes back from the laundry place. I must fix that. Since I am calico, I can shed on everything and still have my hair visible. It’s kind of a superpower. Yesterday, Papa and Mama Anna were both home, and they made all of the trash and recycling go someplace else. Much more space for me to patrol, so I am thankful for that Mama Anna will be listening to an audiobook while she puts the laundry away (and removes me from it.) Audiobooks seem to be a pretty decent way to get her reading goals under control. So is keeping track of things in her reading journal. She may work on that today, and I will of course help her. Steal her pens, bap her rolls of washi with my paws, sit on open pages, whatever it takes, I am there.

Speaking of reading, Mama Anna is on track for her Goodreads Challenge this year. Right now she is at nine percent, with seven books read out of seventy-five. Reading time is often cuddle timee, so yes, I do have a personal investment here.

While this has not been the most productive week for Mama Anna’s writing, it’s better than last week, so she is going to count that as a win, and so will I. We are both perplexed over why pictures she takes (mostly of me, but other stuff too) is not showing up on other devices when they used to, but Aunt Linda is good at figuring that sort of stuff out so we will ask her for some help. Normally, I don’t care for the humans moving furniture around and stuff, but with the way Mama Anna is re-doing the office area, she is at her desk more, which means that I can be on my special bed next to her desk more (it is an old lap desk of hers turned upside down with the pillow side up) and be sneaky because it’s behind the Kanban board she set up to track different projects.

So yeah, that’s basically it for today. Tomorrow, Mama Anna will post on Buried Under Romance and get moving on getting the backlog of reviews up there as well. Of course I will be there to supervise. Unless that is, the snow plow comes back. I love watching that from Aunt Linda’s window. What are you guys all doing this weekend?

Headbonks!

Storm

Typing With Wet Paws: ‘Twas the Week Before Christmas Edition

Tails up, and Happy Holidays, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. It’s the week before Christmas here (well, and everywhere else, pretty much, but it’s a regular day for some people, which is cool. I like regular days.) I have not yet made a move toward the Christmas tree, but then again, A) the lights do not blink (Mama Anna wants them to blink, but they currently do not. Harumph.) and we do not have a topper yet. The topper may blink, and that may catch my attention.

What has definitely caught my attention is that I know what drawer in the people clothes dresser Mama Anna keeps the catnip in, and I want it. I love catnip. That drawer doesn’t close all the way, and I can get my fingers over the edge. I keep trying to pull . I’ll get it one day. The claw marks tell me where I need to concentrate my efforts. Usually, Mama Anna tells me “enough of that,” or “excuse you,” and gives me pets. Then she asks me if I want nip (I always do) and she puts some on my bed or in my (cardboard box) house, and then we are both happy.

Because of reasons, Mama Anna and Aunt Linda are doing their holiday shopping this weekend. I have specifically asked for red dot and wand toys. I trust them to do the right thing. I also plan to share a can of people tuna with Papa. We do that on special occasions. Aunt Linda’s work friend gave me a bunch of fancy gushy food because her cats said “no thank you” to that purchase. There is a flavor that makes me kind of vomity, so those cans will be going to a nice human who feeds ferals near Aunt Linda’s work.

photo by Rheuben Bowling

Aunt Anna has moved the goalposts of her Goodreads challenge. It’s now 85 books instead of 90. That feels much more achievable right now. She regrets nothing. So far she has read 81 books, so that’s only four more. She can totally do that. I’m here for her so she can rub my belly with the hand that isn’t holding the tablet or book. If she reads an audio book, she can pet me with both hands. I prefer that.

As for writing, this has not been the most productive week, as she’s had another human at home for the last three days straight, and her office is in the bedroom and that can get tricky when someone is trying, to sleep while she is making with the tappity tappity. When she writes longhand, she likes to do it in bed while propped up on the whole bunch of pillows they have there. I suppose she could use Papa as an improvised kind of desk, if he is sleeping face down. I’ll suggest it.

What are you guys doing to get ready for your holidays?

Headbonks!

Storm

Plot Bunnies in the Attic

First of all, Storm is on heat lockdown (we do plan on getting her spayed) and thus was not allowed to use the computer unsupervised. She kept attempting to log onto Cat Tinder, and we could not have that. Seriously. I found her profile picture.

single black, white, and orange female….

Beyond that, things are going pretty well over here. I was a bit under the weather over the weekend, but feeling much better now, and excited over the holiday season proper being right around the corner. For those of us who are stationery aficionados, that means new planner season is coming. For those of us who write fiction, it’s time to look ahead at the coming writing year. For those of us who are both, that means time to work on a writing planner.

One of those sections is creating a “stuck list,” aka books, movies, TV, other media that usually gets my idea hamster on the wheel and running like they think they are Wilma Rudolph or Usain Bolt.

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For me, the book section includes romance and non-romance books. One of the non-romances, that I come back to time and again, is Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews. As a romance writer, that does give me a moment of pause. Trigger warning: incest, child abuse.

Dollenganger #1

Though there is an intimate relationship between teen protagonists Cathy and Chris, who are full siblings, under extremely extenuating circumstances, this isn’t a romance. It’s a tragedy. I’ve classified it as horror, of the psychological sort, and it is that, but as I wandered down my most recent FITA rabbit hole (it happens every once in a while) I found myself thinking, as I usually do when I revisit good ol’ Foxworth Hall (sarcasm mode on for that house name) “how would this work as a historical romance?”

Not, I should note, that I would ever want to have a hero and heroine who are full, half, step, foster, etc siblings. Not my thing. The big old house with centuries of heritage behind it, though? Oh yes. The family secrets? Yep. The family dysfunction? Well, of course. The creepy-deepy atmosphere? Um, have you met me? You know this is all Anna-nip when it comes to inspiration. I do have to admit that I had some degree of shock when I saw the Lifetime TV movie adaptation of the first book (there are five in all, number five being a prequel; when I reread, I read FITA, then the prequel, then FITA again, as the prequel is the origin story of the villainess) and very seldom pay any attention to the books in between. That’s just me, though.

My other listening obsession is podcasts on romance writing/reading, of which there are delightfully a lot. Though I don’t recall the specific episode where I heard author Sarah MacLean say that she also always thinks “how would this work as a historical romance?” my brain did catch on that. Fellow author Corinna Lawson once told me, after I’d given one of my very first workshops on what is now Play in Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys, that I tend to “take fantasy inspiration and file off all the fantasy.” She’s not wrong, as I first got my start writing Star Trek: The Next Generation fanfic that read like historical romance with blinky things. I think the same thing might well apply to horror.

I did mention above that I have always classed FITA into horror, and with the discovery of some analyses of the Andrews books (only the actual V. C Andrews, thanks. Not the ghostwriter.) that it also fits into gothic drama, and since most of her stories take place in the south, Southern Gothic elements abound. I love that stuff. I gobble the classic gothic romances of the late sixties/early seventies when I can find them, and some authors who are on my top tier historical romance list, like Valerie Sherwood and Aola Vandergriff, also wrote in this gothic genre. Hmmmm. Hmmm. Hmmmmm.

Romance, though, particularly historical (the tone of my contemporaries with Melva Michaelian are decidedly different and equally natural) with HEAs and dating outside of the family line. Right now, I am at the phase of noting things on my stuck list and leaving them to marinate, to ponder in days to come. Maybe this will come in handy when I revise Orphans in the Storm, which may be on tap for 2022. Maybe not, but it’s always fun to examine something that gets the idea hamster on the move, and that’s a worthwhile end in its own right.

What surprising items might you put on your stuck list?

Typing With Wet Paws: The Gravitational Pull of Afghans Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! It’s a rainy day here in Albany, the leaves are falling in tons of colors, Papa is currently taking a nap under a hand knitted (by Aunt Linda) afghan, and Mama Anna is having a good writing week. She and Papa had delivery for lunch, which I did not touch because I am a kitty and kitties eat kitty food, not people food. That’s an important distinction, and Mama D taught me that early on when I was still a baby kitten.

Anyway, this is the kind of autumn day Mama Anna loves best. Later in the day, she and Aunt Linda will go hunting for groceries, including cat food, but after I am done with this post, she needs the keyboard so that she can write.

The current working setup; photo by Mama Anna

Last night, she had her weekly meeting online with a local writer friend, which is one day after her weekly talk with Aunt Mary, so she does tend to get charged during the latter half of the week, because talking. She is also drinking a lot of tea. These are good signs. On Wednesday, she walked all around the lake in the park when she went to take out the trash. I did not authorize that trip, and complained to Aunt Linda until Mama Anna got back. Oh, and I ran to the computer when I saw Mama Anna was talking to Aunt Mary. They both liked that a lot. I do aim to please.

Right now, the gravitational pull of the pillows, afghan, real paper book and freshly brewed cinnamon tea is very strong. Add in me and Papa also on the bed, not to mention Mama Anna’s catchall notebook and pens, so she can even do some writing there. This sounds like good napping time for me.

photo by Mama Anna

Papa wanted to get a good picture of me in Mama Anna’s desk chair, facing the computer, but I was at such a position he couldn’t get a good angle. He will, later, though, so a greatest hits picture for now. Mama Anna says he and I need a photoshoot, so she can have a reserve of pictures. That’s not a bad idea. I am rather gorgeous.

Speaking of gorgeous, there are a lot of gorgeous covers in the books Mama Anna has been reading this year. She is currently back on track with 77 books read out of 90, and she is reading a few at the same time, pretty much. Getting back into it. This kind of day is conducive to reading, so again, strong draw towards the reading nest.

Yesterday was a really good writing day, even working on Her Last First Kiss, and it didn’t feel forced. That is a very good sign. I have to believe my emotional suport goes a long way toward that, as well as Mama Anna increasing the amount of blabbering to other people that she has been doing. Snuggling with me and a book couldn’t hurt, though.

Headbonks!

Storm

NaNot, Mislaid Plan(ners) and Other Stories

Once again, I am not doing National Novel Writing Month, though I am peeking through the cracks in the fence. Maybe next year? Maybe so. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you’ll know the last couple years have been quite the trip. Several of them, as a matter of fact, so that staying home now is actually kind of exciting, because I have a home to stay in, which I figured would have some sort of effect on my productivity.

If we are talking about blogging, I am doing okay. If we are talking about journaling, I am absolutely crushing it. We’ll talk more about that later. If we’re talking about writing romance fiction, that’s where it gets a little murkerier, and yes, I did put that distancing phrase in there on purpose. Melva and I completed one contemporary romance novel, which we now need to do some surgery upon before we can give it another shot with our current publisher. That’s not a bad thing. We are currently working on another one, and starting a new contemporary series after that. We are working our way to a new sort of schedule as both of us have had changes in our day to day routines, but we are getting into the swing of it, and it’s good.

only the tip of my big bag of books iceberg

For historical romance, that’s where I feel the most guilty, meaning that I’m not where I thought I was going to be at this point. I mean, it’s in sight, and I am getting my way back there. I am now in a two person critique group with a local writer friend, who is newer to the game. We write different subgenres, but both under the romance or romantic elements umbrella. I do read the genre that she writes in, though she is new to historical romance, and I am very interested to see what I can learn about historical romance from seeing it through fresh eyes. So it’s steps in the right direction. Historical romance is also a very common topic on my weekly three hour chats with my friend, Mary, who gifted me a huge bag of classic historicals on her recent visit. I also owe a letter to another writer friend, which is all moving in the direction of getting back to talking about my work, which, for me, is definitely a thing. #extrovertlife

The writing planner I had set up for the last six months of this year is sitting in its cover, glaring at me. Not to say that the planner isn’t working. What it means is that that method is not working for me, and I need to find the one that does. Which means trial and error and blabbering about it here, because, metaphorically, I have a microphone and you all have to listen to everything I say. (The Wedding Singer is a work of genius; fight me.) In short, all part of the process. As we near the end of the year, the planner possibilities are endless, and I will find the right one at the right time. For now, it’s going to be more a matter of blundering into the forest with oven mitts on my hands, and recording what actually worked for me. That tends to be how I work. Stumble my way halfway in, survey, and make a plan. I am bound and determined that A Heart Most Errant is not going to have a birthday of sitting in my documents file, edits unaddressed. Nope, nope, nope. February is not that far away, which means I need to get on it.

How does yoeur week look?

Typing With Wet Paws: Nipped Edition

Storm’s up, Tail Troopers. Wait. That’s not right. It sounds kind of right. Close to right? Almost right. Right words, wrong order, yeah? Ever since Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian brought me some special mousies, things sometimes get kind of…wavy. Not that I mind. I mean, look at my paw.

Did you know I have switchblade fingers? Well, I do.

Have you ever really looked at a paw? Paws are amazing. I can put my claws in, put them out, pull them in again. Any. Time. I. Want. How great is that? Also, I have four of them. Plus one tail. No switchblades in my tail, though, but it goes up when I am happy. New toys always make me happy. Especially when they are special toys, if you know what I mean. I mean catnip. I love that stuff.

All the humans did fun things on the weekend, like having dinner where Papa works. While he was working, even, so they got to see him do his job. He is super duper good at it, but a lot of people know that already, like Mama Anna. Nice to have it confirmed, though. There was the time when the chef accidentally tried to kill Mama Anna, though. I say accidentally, because they probably did not know that Mama Anna is allergic to mushrooms, and there were mushrooms in the soup when it didn’t say that on the menu. She is okay, though. She had the soup put in a to go container, ate other food, and took it home for Papa.

Keeping Mama Anna’s seat warm.

I, purr-sonally, did not get to go to Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian’s hotel, which I am told was very nice, with a big couch, so there was room for me, and pets were allowed, so I hung with my special mousies that evening. The humans did all agree, though, that the next visit has to be soon, and at Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian’s house, and that I have to come along, because separation anxiety. This means that A) I will get two car rides (there and back) and B) Mama Anna will need to harness train me, so that when I get out of my adventure cave after the car ride, she can keep eyes on me at all times in a new environment.. I should probably also mention that While Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian have my Cousin Andy (who is a young grownup, and will be getting married to my Cousin-to-Be Leah, and moving to his own house next year; dibs on his room when we visit after that) but also my Cousin Aiden, who is a Golden Retriever. That is a kind of dog, who will not be getting married and thus will stay licing in that house. I am not sure if he knows a lot of cats (probably not) so only one of us will be free range at any given time, and I will be on the lead when it’s me.

In related news, Cousin Andy asked Aunt Anna if she would be a character reference for an important job he wants to do, and she said yes. That means that she had to talk to an important person on the phone and answer questions about whether she thinks Cousin Andy is a good human (spoiler alert: he is) and can do important job (Spoiler alert: he can.) She said yes and yes, so that is on the record now. She of course countered this very adult responsibility by playing video games, so the balance is restored.

Also restored is her love of reading historical romance, since Aunt Mary did in fact give her a honking big bag of classic historical romances (she will talk about that on Buried Under Romance, later.) Some of those were books she had once owned and wanted to get again (score!) while others were books she had always wanted to read, but never got the chance (also score) and a couple were even brand new to her, even though they had been written and/or published before she was even a grownup herself.

Mama Anna also read one entire book this week, but it was from the library, not that bag, and it was not even fiction. It was Idiot, by Laura Clery, who is actually very smart and very funny. It is a memoir, which means it is about her life up to the time she wrote it. There is another one coming in spring, and Mama Anna already wants to read that one, too. She will read other books before then, though.

Did you know that my special mousies have knots in the end of their tails? They are super good for biting and throwing so I can pounce. Yeah. That’s fun, Think I’m going to go do that soon, or maybe nap in that sunbeam.

Headbonks!

Typing With Wet Paws: Company’s Coming Edition

Tails Up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. This is a super special weekend coming, because Mama Anna gets to see Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian IN PERSON, and I get to meet them for the very first time. They have a dog at home (who will probably be staying home, but I can still smell him on them and will “meet” him that way. If I mark them (which I will) the he can learn all about me that way. It’s secret code we fur people have. Works pretty well.) Anyway, Mama Ann is doing a lot to get ready for this visit, which is actually pretty fun for her.

Part of that is getting presents ready. Even though one of the reasons is for Aunt Mary and Uncle Brian to help celebrate Mama Anna’s birthday, they are also covering other holidays that they were not able to see each other, due to the global situation, and then an early Christmas. This means there are probably going to be bags and boxes for me to play with, which is always good.

photo: Rheuben Bowling

Aunt Anna says nobody is going to catch her unawares on this whole visit thing, and I don’t blame her. This is kind of big, having company. She has always loved company, ever since she was a people kitten. Can you spot the baby extrovert here? Hint: that would be Mama Anna. Also me. I love friends, and I kind of know Aunt Mary from the weekly glowy box sessions. It will be fun to see if I recognize her. I bet that I will. I am predicting headbonks (from me) – my way of saying “property of Storm.”

One thing that Mama Anna is getting excited about is that Aunt Mary is going to bring a big bag (dibs on the bag!) of the kinds of books Mama Anna loves the very best: those big epic historical romances of um…a lot of cats ago. Mama Anna thinks that will go a long way to fixing her reader’s block. Also, she is looking forward to taking pictures of all the pretty covers and sharing those here. It’s also kind of coming full circle, because Mama Anna’s first exposure to historical romance novels would be many cats ago, when Mama Anna’s Aunt Lucy (I guess that makes her my Great Aunt Lucy) would visit Mama Anna’s Mama (Grandma Erma; I have to wait until Rainbow Bridge to meet here, and that is a very very long time away) and bring…you guessed it, a big bag of big, epic historical romances.

Mama Anna’s job was to take those bags of books to the laundry room and put them on a special shelf. She wasn’t allowed to read them yet (she would overstep that boundary soon) because she was too young, but she always looked at the covers and read the back blurbs and made up her own stories to go with those elements. Now she is getting back to writing them. Point is, aunts bearing bags of historical romance novels have a relly good track record around these parts.

What’s on tap for your weekend?

Headbonks!

Storm

Typing With Wet Paws: Sorry For The MIA Edition

Tails up, Storm Troopers! It’s October now, which means a lot of exciting things are happening. First of all, today starts our official second year in this apartment, something that makes us all extremely happy. I am not as pleased with the closed windows, because I got a surprise when I tried to jump into my window in Aunt Linda’s room. She says she is getting me a ledge. We will see. I do have an adoptiversary coming up, so that’s another good thing, and a good reason for her to come through with the ledge.

Aunt Anna’s birthday is also in October, one week before Halloween, so really, it’s a whole month of fun stuff. The one up side of the windows closing is that the property manager turned the furnace on yesterday, so now we can have heat. Also, Aunt Linda is going on vacation later in this month, so there will be some shenanigans. Of what sort, I do not know, but it will be fun whatever it is.

photo by Anna Carrasco Bowling

As you can see, I am quite comfy, and also hard at work at being Aunt Anna’s mews. With the stuff ahead of her, she’s going to need me. Yesterday, she had two video chats with different writer friends, and then the day before that, her weekly three hours with Aunt Mary. Aunt Anna is a social creature, so this kind of thing helps her a lot. She also is working on some exercises in making sure she pays attention to what helps her write things and what doesn’t. I of course, am close by because really, isn’t that the most important thing?

desk at golden hour
Anna Carrasco Bowling

That picture above is what Aunt Anna’s current desk setup looks like. She’s very happy with it, though she will be happier when her secretary desk comes home, which will probably be sometime during Aunt Linda’s vacation. That is probably when she will dig her very very favorite historical romance novels out of storage. Those go in the bookcase her father made for her when she was a baby baby. She might repaint them, though, because yellow is not her thing. Don’t blame her. It doesn’t complement my fur at all, so I very much support this idea.

Speaking of books, let’s check in with Aunt Anna’s Goodreads Challenge. As of this writing, she is as 81% of the way to her goal of 90 books in 2021, with 73 books under her belt. That is six books ahead of schedule, so feel free to give her a paw bop when she complains about not being able to read anything, because that is obviously not true. Even if it seems that way at the time.

I would not be surprised if the reading thing gets even stronger this month, because A) it’s October, B ) that sometimes means she gets books for her birthday, and C) she’s already listening to music again and thanks to Uncle Rheuben, she is even watching TV. Okay, streaming, but still. He made her watch Only Murders in the Building. It hits a lot of tropes that Aunt Anna loves, has a great cast (she was sold on Steve Martin and Martin Short, and the prewar apartments sold her without knowing anything else.

Hm, I think that’s about it for right now, but I will be sure to pop back in if I think of anything else, get new toys, or anything else interesting. Feel free to drop your recommendations for sourcing a good red dot in the comments.

Headbonks!

Storm