So I (mostly) cleaned up and handed in the first draft of The Agony House...and you'd think I'd feel more relieved, but you'd be mistaken. I have a short story to (make up and) write before December 1, and a book to write (almost in its entirety) by the first of March - never mind the holidays and/or holiday travel.

But last night, the husband and I went out to supper with old friends - and yea verily, we stuffed ourselves silly. Good times. Tomorrow, I'm doing lunch and shopping with my cousin. So it's not like I'm not trying to take a tiny bit of a break.

I am finding it difficult to recharge, but that doesn't really matter. I have to recharge anyway.

* * *

Speaking of getting out with friends - on Saturday I drove down to Kennesaw with a different old friend, to visit the marvelous writer and inkmaster James R. Tuck. My friend needed a cover-up. I needed new ink altogether. This picture doesn't really do it justice; the low light and my wobbly arm make it look a tad grainy - but it's lovely, rich, and sharp ... and just as soon as it stops peeling, I'll get my husband (or someone) to take a better shot.



I've been telling people that I'm going to turn my body into a Victorian book of flowers, and I'm not exactly joking. That said, all of the flowers so far have been important (to me) apart from and/or in addition to their traditional meanings.

Not that every tattoo has to have meaning. Body mod is a personal thing, and "because I thought it was cool" is entirely fair. Follow your bliss, I say.

Anyway. The sunflower is mostly finished peeling, but it's still very tender and a little swollen; and it's centered right on that bone at the bottom of my neck, so I haven't really been able to keep it covered with a bandage. I swear, I've smeared A&D ointment all over the damn house.

* * *

The Elder Statescat had a vet check-up yesterday, and the news was mixed - but largely good. In short, she's losing weight again ... but as far as we can tell, she's perfectly healthy. Her bloodwork came up entirely clean; her appetite and energy levels are both normal; and she's full of vim and vigor. As they say.

The fact is, she's just getting old.
(She's at least 15-16 years of age, and likely somewhat older.)

But hey, she still more or less gets along with Quinn, at least until Quinn enters MANIAC KITTEN mode. The poor little girl is only five months old, and although she's "leveling out" a bit (especially since the spay operation) sometimes she still goes bananas and drives her big sister crazy.

Don't worry. They always work it out by naptime.

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And never mind my zombie slippers with the dangling eyeballs. They are comfy - for people-feet, and for kitten-snuggling. As it turns out.

* * *

Greyson is doing well, too. He loves fall weather - the chillier and more blustery the better. So I'll sign off with a pic of the big guy, and his big grin. Have a good rest-of-the-week, everyone. I'll catch you all later.

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