It’s been an interesting week and it’s only Tuesday. I don’t know if that means things will be calmer or more chaotic as the week progresses. Like all those Kentucky Derby gamblers who didn’t bet on Rich Strike, I’m not holding onto my ticket. 

Last Friday, it rained inside the car while I was bringing my deeply disappointed (and suddenly angry/wet) cat home from his vet check-up. (Just wait until he realizes he’s on a diet and has a bald spot on his butt.) Fortunately, he has a cat carrier and a deep loathing for activity so he complained loudly but sat quietly throughout our wet ride home. 

Sunday was a lovely, warm day. I sat outside and finished one of 6 books I read this week for research.. Reading other people’s work is fun sometimes but also stressful and occasionally hard on the ego. This reading is specifically to see how other authors are working with a specific trope. When writing fiction, there’s a line between pedantic truths and entertainment. Where and when is it okay to write something that doesn’t fit the historical truth but fits the fictional narrative? 

It depends on the story and genre, right? Can the author legitimately include cell phones in a story set in the 1800s? (I just read one and I’d say NO definitively but the cell-phone inclusive story is about to be published.) What about a story where a character from the early 1800s travels to the 21st century? 

Can you imagine popping into a world as loud as ours is, after growing up in a world with no electricity, no helicopters or airplanes, no cars, no leaf blowers, no air conditioners kicking on in the middle of the night? People leaving jail after decades-long sentences have difficulty adapting, why do we act like a 200 year difference would be so easy to manage? 

ANYWAY, moving on – The walk from the mechanic to the coffee shop goes by a school and this morning there were three separate spots of vomit on the sidewalk. I know it’s really weird to notice but I can’t help wondering if that was one sick kid or multiple. Did the vomiting occur on the way into school or during an emergency kid-pickup like many of us parents have experienced? These are the extra things that float around in my brain on the daily. It’s a wonder I get anything done.

Phew. I have to put my airpods in. The lady who just sat down with her friend is FIRED UP and it’s too distracting. Usually it’s fun to have lots of noise but she’s so loud I keep typing what she’s saying, like some weird 1950s dictation. Only there are a lot more F-bombs than I would have expected. 

Right now on the playlist: “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” This is a cover by Punch Brothers. I lived on the edge of Lake Erie when this song came out and heard it a lot growing up, especially around the anniversary of the wreck. Is this the experience of non-Great Lakes residents? 

And now, it’s “May I Have This Dance” by Francis and the Lights. It features Chance the Rapper who is occasionally brilliant. I love his line “your daddy’s discernment.” Such flow.

I’m having serious technology problems so today I’m using my son’s laptop. (Thanks, my dear!) This is an excellent illustration of how hard it is to change. I have experienced a lot of change in my decades on this planet. You’d think I wouldn’t mind doing something as minor as downloading Scrivener to another laptop but here I am, acting like a cat who just got shaved and coned. Pretty soon, I’ll tip over and lay motionless on the ground. 

The good news is that my laptop is under warranty. The bad news is that I have to PUT IT IN A BOX and send it away. What did you say? You want me to cut off my hands and send them where? I know it will be fine and everything is backed up and safe but … NO. I need the repair team to Geek-Squad it over to my house and fix it in front of my watchful, untrusting eyes. Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen. Maybe I can fix this myself … also NO.

“The Times They Are A-Changin’” by Keb’ Mo’ is playing now. Talk about a fitting song for life right now. My daughter, who is in her early 20s, asked me over the weekend how many more interesting times I thought her generation would have to experience. What possible answer could I give her? 

Uh oh. Who curated this playlist? (That would be me.) Woe, Is Me is now banging away in my ears. I really should create a writing playlist separate from my angry treadmill music, though angry treadmill music is great for writing the fight scenes. 

“Sober” by Lucy Spraggan is not on the angy treadmill list. It’s sad; and if you know (or are) a heavy drinker, there’s a lot in it to identify with. But that isn’t angy. Trust me. It’s just deeply grief-triggering.

I’m too far away from the entrance today to enjoy the beautiful weather. It’s annoying. There are a lot of dogs desperately in need of a petting. Last week, I met Frankie, a pitbull puppy rescue whose coloring is so similar to my dog’s that they could be from the same litter (9 years apart though). He’s so bad right now but super cute. Fun fact for those of you who don’t know pitties: They are extremely good at jumping straight up in the air, Tigger-like but without the tail-bouncing bits. 

Frankie greeted me like we were good friends – best friends, related, possibly long-lost siblings – and leaped straight up into my arms, where he proceeded to lick my face from forehead to chin. I was laughing, which is difficult to do while holding an underweight but still 25 pound dog and keeping your mouth shut so the dog you just met doesn’t lick ALLLLLL the way inside, if you know what I mean.

His poor owner was completely panicked but we got Frankie all sorted, until he grabbed the leash in his mouth and started playing tug with his owner – fully against the owner’s wishes.

Our sweet Poppy was completely out of control when she moved in. She didn’t know how to walk on a leash. She was terrified of buses, cardboard boxes, men in hats, and loud noises. She was so underfed the vet told us to feed her as much as she wanted. She’s without reservation the best dog I’ve ever had. And that includes the five doxies I’ve been blessed to know.