miladygrey

My iPhone case was left on our porch with a sticky note that said "Sorry!", so either our South street counterparts are very shy, or they just didn't want to look me in the eye and explain why they took four days to walk half a block and hand me my misdelivered mail. Oh well, I'm not going to fret, I have it and I love it. And my BPAL also arrived safely, so now I have a backup bottle of one of the DCed Last Unicorn scents, and a bottle of Psalm 146:9 ("The Lord watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.") that smells like chocolate and incense and the inexorable justice of God. I love it, and I like knowing that a portion of its purchase will go to RAICES.

Got an unexpected day off on Monday, and not because I was sick. I arrived at work to find the power utterly out--no lights, no phones, no Internet, and absolutely no air-conditioning. While Monday was a lessening of the nasty heat wave, it was still forecast to get to 90, and the office was already tangibly warm. I had Yeats check the power company's website, and apparently it was a tiny outage affecting about five buildings including mine, so we were low on the get-it-fixed list, noon at the earliest. I told Aveline when she came in, and she immediately said "Well, we can't work in this. I can do some work from home, otherwise, consider this an Act of God day off." So I did. I got to eat lunch with Yeats, and we hung out and played video games and watched Schitt's Creek in the cool peace of our downstairs, and it was lovely.

Yeats is now off on his Manly Men weekend, and I have movies to watch and books to read and anxious cats to soothe and a six-pack of raspberry milk stout to sample. I have also taken tomorrow as a personal day for lounging purposes. Coincidentally, today is 100 YEARS LONG.

Reading Log: Three Hearts and Three Lions by Poul Anderson; The Lovely and the Lost by Jennifer Lynn Barnes; An Anatomy of Beasts by Olivia Cole; The Wedding Party by Jasmine Guillory; Eye Spy by Mercedes Lackey; Song of the Dead by Sarah Glenn Marsh; The Flatshare by Beth O'Leary; Magic Below Stairs by Caroline Stevermer

I have offended the traffic gods. One lane closure on the way to work. One fifteen-minute slowdown because (OMG!) someone was pulled over on the shoulder for speeding. Stuck behind a bicyclist--one who was somehow on his phone while pedaling. Then stuck behind a garbage truck. Fortunately, Aveline is merciful.

One week until Yeats' annual Manly Men weekend! I plan to stockpile fizzy wine and gelato and movies/miniseries he's not interested in watching. A trip to the taco truck may be in order as well, and I found a recipe for jollof rice that I really want to try. I will have to cut it in half, because I don't need to feed 8-10 people, no matter how bachelorette I'll be living.

My brother got himself and his family a present for his 39th birthday--a new puppy! The Nami-dog is about 13 at this point, and while she gets along fine with the kids, she's bonded solely with Geek Bro and isn't really the family dog. The puppy is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, his ears are longer than his whole body, and Abs is utterly besotted with him. After some discussion, his name will be Chase, because he apparently chased Abs and Z around the backyard until exhaustion kicked in. He's adorable, and I am tempted to hop a plane to GA just to cuddle him.

Two days not logging into or visiting Goodreads to support the striking Amazon workers. It feels like I'm giving up caffeine or something equally important. Must...resist...updating to-read list...

Reading List (hey, I can do this here!): Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks; The True Queen by Zen Cho; The Deepest Blue by Sarah Beth Durst; Indeh by Ethan Hawke and Greg Ruth; A Brightness Long Ago by Guy Gavriel Kay; Destroyer by Victor LaValle; Middlegame by Seanan McGuire; The Icarus Girl by Helen Oyeyemi; Fence, Volume 2 by C.S. Pacat; The Sleeping Prince by Melinda Salisbury; Rosewater by Tade Thompson

I am returned! I am freckled and mildly sunburnt! It was a great vacation, although not without hiccups!

Things started out auspiciously, as my new prescription sunglasses arrived at the optometrist's in the nick of time, and I was able to pick them up before we hit the road. It took about an hour longer than planned to get to our B&B in VA due to DC traffic, but we made it. The town is still a nice place to visit, full of breweries (we watched the US/France game over a flatbread and beer flight), wineries, and restaurants, but the B&B we remembered so fondly from a few years ago has grown shabbier, and not in a charming curated way. The hot water in the bathroom apparently takes upwards of 20 minutes to actually get hot? And no one informed us of this? Which is why we left the B&B unshowered and slightly grumpy the next morning, and why Yeats left a polite but pointed online review. The drive to TN was...long. We got another hour delay behind an accident, and a reroute around yet another accident. But we arrived at my parents' house, and were tackle-hugged by Niece Abs and awkwardly hugged by Nephew Z and happily hugged by everyone else.

My birthday was everything I wanted. We drove into Knoxville and had brunch with Firiel, then went to the Giant Used Bookstore with a tub of books to trade in. I assumed we would get a decent amount of credit for the tub. We got enough credit to purchase literally everything we wanted, and enough left over to pay for Firiel's stuff too. I went up to get the credit when our number was called, and I was apparently grinning like a fiend.

Yeats: ...are you okay? What's our total?
Me: That mint-condition still-in-plastic gaming guide you were sighing over?
Yeats: Yeah?
Me: Go get it. Go get anything you desire. Go purchase the entire World War I section.
Yeats: That good?
*I show him*
Yeats: Be right back, World War I section...
Me: I'll be in the SF/Fantasy aisle!

We then investigated the https://www.pretentiousbeerco.com/, which my mother had mentioned to Yeats. The beer was delicious, the glassware was lovely (we now own four more beer glasses and an ornament), and Yeats is already plotting to get one of their mustachioed pint glasses for a friend. Then we drove back to my folks' and leapt into the lake, where there was frolicking and tubing and waterskiing.

Other good things happened, including a minor-league baseball game where Yeats and Z talked baseball the whole time (Z is very intrigued) and Yeats caught a foul ball for Z. We went to the bacon shop, and now we have stocks of excellent bacon and country ham in our freezer. We had dinner with my aunt and uncle and cousins, and a big 4th-of-July picnic at my parents' house wherein we had to almost physically drag Z and Abs and Cousin A out of the lake to eat something.

There was also a less-fun thing. After our travel delays, Yeats suggested I take my Fit to get an oil change, since the oil life was a bit drained and we wanted it to be in good shape for the drive home. I agreed, and went to a little local place a couple miles away. Oil was changed (good), might could consider a tire rotation (later, thanks), and was I aware of the bubble on this one tire?...(I was not). Yeats, my brother, my dad and I were in agreement that driving 600 miles on a bubbled tire that might blow out in some remote area of VA was not optimal, so we located a tire place only 10 miles away from my parents (have I mentioned how rural their community is?), my dad rode with me in case of issue, and we watched the US beat England in a tire store waiting room. But the tire was replaced, and I am glad I found out about it before a loud POP somewhere on I-81.

The drive home on Friday was loooooooooong. But we did not get stuck behind any accidents, and got through DC and Baltimore with no traffic trouble, and were able to pick up the cats from my mother-in-law on the way. They were cuddly barnacles all weekend, with Westley yelling at us both whenever we went out of his sight, and were only resigned to my going back to work this morning because Yeats was staying home. I also received my last birthday gift, selected by Yeats and paid for by my parents--a new phone! An iPhone, even! I like it so much, and I have taken pictures and re-organized my contacts and added the Goodreads app. I also made my mother collapse with laughter when I responded to being informed of the gift with "I may have one of Mr. Bell's newfangled talking machines for MY VERY OWN?"

Back to the clearing of the in-box! I bet I can manage it before the end of the day!

Reading Log: The October Man by Ben Aaronovitch; Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube by Blair Braverman; My Life with the Liars by Caela Carter; The Poison Bed by Elizabeth Fremantle; North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell; Holding Wonder by Zenna Henderson; The Raven Tower by Ann Leckie; Lud-in-the-Mist by Hope Mirrlees; Biting Bad by Chloe Neill; The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X.R. Pan; The Chateau by Tiffany Reisz; The Door Into Ocean by Joan Slonczewitz; The Shadow of the Torturer and The Claw of the Conciliator by Gene Wolfe

Anders talked to Aveline and I today. An attorney who's a longtime acquaintance of his is retiring, and offered Anders his old position at the retiring attorney's firm. It's in an area of the state where Anders has lots of friends and fellow attorneys, it would mean more of the type of law work he prefers to do, and rather less driving back and forth, so he is going to accept. He said several times, anxiously (bless), that it wasn't at all because he didn't enjoy working with us, he really likes Aveline, he's learned a lot working with her, it's been a real pleasure--this is just a good move for him. Aveline understands, and so do I.

I haven't talked to Aveline at length yet, so I don't know if it's going to be back to just she and I for a while, if she's going to immediately start looking for a new partner, if she's already talking to an option or two...hard to say. She doesn't seem concerned, and given the growing spreadsheet of People Who Were Referred to Us, I don't think we'll lose too much revenue with Anders gone. I guess we'll see. We've been a solo firm before, we can be again. And if she's got a new partner lined up, I will teach them my ways.

Highly recommend the Brimming Horn viking party, and Brimming Horn in general for anyone who ends up in lower Delaware and likes mead. We had roast pig and wasabi potato salad, tried strawberry-basil mead and orange-cardamom mead and straight honey mead and something made with pomegranate that I would sip like Persephone on her throne. Despite our attempts to be strong, we walked out with a handmade necklace (mine) from Rigr Crafts and a print by the person who does the meadery's logo (Yeats). Definitely worth the hour-long flat drive through not-all-that-scenic lower DE.

Poor Aveline learned yesterday that her grandmother passed. It's not precisely unexpected--she was quite elderly, and had descended into weary readiness to go be with God the last few years. Still, what a way to almost-finish a vacation. She'll be going straight from the dock to her family in the Midwest, stay out there for the funeral, and be back the middle of next week. Most people have been very understanding. One client responded with "So that's why she didn't respond to my three emails yesterday! Have her partner call me, these issues I'm having can't wait!" Madam, I saw the email. Your issues are about further ways to annoy your ex and make your two-year-old like you better than him. I politely hate you right now, on Aveline's behalf.

The tomatoes are ripe! At least some of them are. Last night we had scrambled eggs and cheese, with basil and chives FROM OUR GARDEN, garnished with a handful of orange cherry tomatoes that were sweet as candy. Yeats is 100% ready to become a full-time tomato farmer.

Yeats purchased a new-to-us video game, is enjoying it thus far greatly, and was sitting with me while I walked through chargen and the tutorial phases last night.

Yeats: You can pick one of these pregen characters, or create your own.
Me: I like the stabby former-slave elf...
Character: I am a Lady Bard who may in fact be possessed by a demon, but I have it perfectly under IA IA FTHAGN control! I also am set to default to snark, and have a cool talent that allows me to absorb spilled blood to regain HP!
Me: ...my new best friend.
Yeats: I knew you'd like her.

Reading Log: How to Marry a Werewolf by Gail Carriger; An Almond for a Parrot by Wray Delaney; The Sins of Lord Lockwood by Meredith Duran; Hearts West by Chris Enss; Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (how much do I love Crowley and Aziraphale? let me count the ways); The Triumphant by Lesley Livingston; Woman 99 by Greer Macallister; Defy Me by Tahereh Mafi; Sherwood by Meagan Spooner

Stuff has happened, and I am happily exhausted.

Balticon (last weekend) was quite a lot of fun. Yeats was on four panels, two gaming and two writing (one with Elizabeth Bear!), plus he had a reading with two other authors, all of which were well-attended. He has already been asked to come back next year, and possibly run a game in the gaming suite. We did not sell any physical books, about which he was disappointed, but I am pretty sure we sold some e-books, plus he had one person tell him flat-out how much they enjoyed Ordination and are looking forward to finding the time to read the other two Paladin books. For my part, I attended multiple panels and readings, managed to get past my squeaky inner 11-year-old to tell Elizabeth Bear how much I love her writing, listened to Charles Vess talk about collaborating with Ursula LeGuin, and also got to tell Melissa Scott and Vivian Shaw how great they are as well. Vivian Shaw (author of the Greta Helsing urban fantasy series), for the record, is the superbly cool blonde lesbian Bond villainess we all wish we could be, and I love her and desperately want to be her. Her wife, Arkady Martine, is the adorable smart redhead who wears scarlet jumpsuits in public and looks good in them, and I am looking forward to reading her debut novel.

This weekend, I forged my way into the wilds of Philadelphia to attend Sugar's baby shower (two months to go!), and played many games (baby product The Price is Right) that would send Yeats into fits. We entertained a friend passing through town, and cheered with him for possible good job-related news. Yeats had graduation today, which he attended with gravitas, while I lounged on the sofa at home with the cats. And then after he got home, we had an impromptu candlelight dinner because a thunderstorm took out the power right after dinner had finished cooking, and waited patiently for the power to come back on so we could keep watching "Good Omens".

Aveline is on vacation for the next two weeks, well-earned, and Anders and I will be holding down the fort at work. I hope there will not be a repeat of "I called her voicemail and emailed her and got away messages, I guess she's really gone and you weren't lying to me" like there was last vacation. I also have two clients whom I get to tell "You get no further legal help until you pay down your bill, yes, I am authorized by Aveline to say this to you".

Reading Log: Ancestral Night by Elizabeth Bear; Turn Me Loose by Anne Calhoun; The Wicked and the Divine: Old is the New New by Kieron Gillen; The Vampire: A New History by Nick Groom; The Truth of Valor by Tanya Huff; Queen's Shadow by E.K. Johnston; In Need of a Good Wife by Kelly O'Connor McNees; It Takes Two to Tumble by Cat Sebastian; The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling; An Informal History of the Hugos b Jo Walton

I am in that super-fun part of the week before my period where I can be cruising happily along, then a piece of bad news pops out at me--anything from "dang, my favorite T-shirt has a hole in a sensitive and visible area" to "here's another reminder that old white men hate you and want you to either die or start breeding babies, the latter followed by the former if possible"--and I swing directly into gloomy crying fits.

So I am going to finish this post, log off the Internet, plant some more basil (if you like pesto, there is no such thing as too much basil), make a strawberry-rhubarb pie just because I can, read a cute mail-order bride romance, watch "The Tick" and "What We Do in the Shadows" with Yeats, and work on being happy. I will not let the gloom win.

Reading Log: Abbott, Volume 1 by Saladin Ahmed; The Book of Etta by Meg Elison; Spend Game by Jonathan Gash; Revenant Gun by Yoon Ha Lee; The Sin Eater's Daughter by Melinda Salisbury; Dreadful Company by Vivian Shaw; Riverland by Fran Wilde; Ms. Marvel: Time and Again by G. Willow Wilson

According to the vet, Hector's heart is showing some strain, which is probably what's causing the odd rhythm (she called it a "gallop") and upping his metabolism so that he's very slowly losing weight. They want to do chest X-rays to ascertain the situation, and start him on some heart medications to see if that calms his heart rate down and helps the metabolism issue. He's had a heart murmur since he was a little stray kitten, it probably hasn't gotten better with age now that he's 11.

I hate that I have to panic for my sweet kitty, and also have to panic over yet another unplanned cost that we're going to have to factor into our monthly budget (the meds, if they work, will be daily for the rest of his life) along with car payments and student loans and the mortgage and...

I am reaching the "if I beat my head against a wall, will it all stop?" state of mind, and I know that's not great. I am also running on three hours of sleep and being deeply, deeply annoyed at "Endgame" and "Game of Thrones", and I know that's not helping either.

Reading Log: The Dark Days Deceit by Alison Goodman; An Artless Demise by Anna Lee Huber; Lady Derring Takes a Lover by Julie Anne Long; Reign of the Fallen by Sarah Glenn Marsh; We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia; Ship of Smoke and Steel by Django Wexler

This weekend! The school play on Saturday, which Yeats and I are obligated to attend. Then a book fair in Kensington on Sunday, which I am obligated to attend as Support Spouse.

Next Monday! I get to take Hector to the vet on Monday evening, because Aveline has gently insinuated that I don't need to miss any more work unless I am sick until, let's say, June. It's not because he's sick, but because the vet noticed that he hadn't been in over a year, and is refusing to let us purchase any more of the fancy kitty health food he and Westley eat until he comes in for a checkup.

Next weekend! Yeats chaperones prom and will not be home until late Friday night. Twin cousins are having their First Communion in Baltimore on Saturday, and we have to at least attend the party if not the actual church ceremony. Maybe we can do something we actually want to do on Sunday. Maybe go see Endgame, although I really don't know if that's going to count as "fun".

The weekend after that! I don't know, but probably some fucking thing.

I know that part of this is because I am PMSing fiercely in anticipation of the actual M'ing, but I am so tired, and I don't want to go be sociable, or put on my Shiny Customer Service Smile while Yeats sells books and chats with his publisher, or listen to all the cousins talk about parenting stuff and Catholicism while I sit there silently. I would honestly rather stay home and do laundry. I would rather stay home and do laundry right now.

Reading Log: The Last Voyage of Poe Blythe by Ally Condie; Defy the Fates by Claudia Gray; Kid Gloves by Lucy Knisley; Isle of Blood and Stone by Makiia Lucier; Dagger and Coin by Kathy MacMillan; Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng; The Lady from the Black Lagoon by Mallory O'Meara; Save Me the Plums by Ruth Reichl; Phoebe and her Unicorn by Dana Simpson

Remember how, three weeks ago, I got a voicemail from an Enterprise CS rep assuring me that the "matter" of my allegedly-damaged rental car would be handled internally, how the alleged damage was ambiguous and wouldn't amount to much more than $400, and how my satisfaction as a customer was their main priority?

Yeah, they decided not to go that route. I got an email from their Damage Unit yesterday saying that a claim was being pursued, that the "damages" (which are not at all the type of damage they originally claimed had accrued) will cost over twice that to fix, and that I should inform my insurance company and hope they can pay at least some of it.

Well fuck that. I've left two voicemails with the CS person I spoke to, I'm going to call him every two hours until I get a response, and I have his three-weeks-ago voicemail saved. I've sent another blistering description of "customer service" through Enterprise's website, have yelled at them via Facebook messenger, and am yelling at them via Facebook itself. Yeats is yelling via Twitter, and Aveline has calmly hinted that she can write a Letter on Letterhead if the need arises.

DON'T RENT FROM ENTERPRISE.