Queries: the long and the short of it

After my last post, at 10:44 this morning, I tackled the list of agents appearing in the spring at a writing conference. First I had to separate those I had already queried and from which book. I went through their web sites and discovered some didn't take genre writing and others accepted only non-fiction. Some had already rejected one book or another. The list had really shrunk by the time I parsed the whole thing. It also hurts if the agent has no web site. Will they like a so-called high tech novel? I think not.

Went upstairs and made and consumed a turkey sandwich. Ah man! What could be better than thin sliced white meat on thin sliced white bread with slatherings of mayo and sprinkled with salt and pepper with thin sliced tomatoes and a big leaf of lettuce thrown in to salve the conscience? Yum! Add a few slices of Mrs. Fannings pickles and a few potato chips.

When I got on the scale this morning, the first thought was: how can my pajamas have gained four pounds? Then, I thought: no, it has to be water. Lots of water.

Ye gods! I put on my gym clothes with good intentions for a walk or a visit to the gym, but the rains came and the weather was dark and cold and I didn't feel like going to the gym. As evidenced above, I felt like scarfing down some more of the turkey.

Thisbe's diabetes is much improved, and her coat is so much softer. She is eating Atkins for kitties and the fancy high-priced moist food. Yesterday, most unaccountably, she begged for roast turkey while I was slicing it for dinner. Ate some. Ate some more. When I fixed my sandwich she asked for more. And again.

This from a cat who never eats people food. Well, not since yesterday. It's good high-quality protein, I tell myself when Thisbe and I both feel like a bit of a nosh. This is amazing. I wonder if her body knows this is a good thing in her current state of health. My body only knows that it likes to eat.

Back down to the agents: After all was said and done, I found two, one for Festival Madness and one for World of Mirrors. Nobody for Promiscuous mode, which was the whole point of the exercise. So one email and one SnailMail query have gone out. It's 3:45 and the day is gone. Few queries and no exercise.

I will visit my drug lord. Maybe he'll talk to me. And then again . . . .

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Thisbe's Great Adventure

It had to happen sometime. Thisbe, the shyest, most scaredy of cats, stepped out onto the front porch to take the air this morning. When she sees a person, car, dog, delivery truck, she wants back inside. Now! Scratches on the storm door, with her tail the size of a baseball bat. I want in now.

Somehow, the front door got closed, and we couldn't hear Thisbe's hysterical scratchings. An hour passed. I had an aha! moment when I realized, eeek, Thisbe was still out on the porch.

Except she wasn't. My tortoise kitty was no where in sight. But I heard meows. Looked around. Couldn't see her. Looked some more. Ye gods! She is two doors down on the neighbor's porch. Neighbors that have a cat but aren't home. Bawling her head off. Looking right at me. Won't budge.

Yell to S.O. to help with the situation while I race upstairs to don something besides immodest pajamas with an uncertain waistband (read, old and stretched out and liable to fall at any moment). Good for cooking breakfast but not for racing around the neighborhood.

By the time I had changed clothes, S.O. appeared with Thisbe. He had to physically deliver her back to the house. Now, Thisbe hates to be picked up. Some long-held antipathy, but she let him carry her (without scratching) back home. She came in (tail as big around as the proverbial bat), and had lovey time. Calmed down. Probably ate a lot to further calm frayed cat nerves.

She's still reposing on the entry hall floor, eyes enormous, but a more relaxed posture. Saturday morning adventure! For all of us.

A moment to relax? No, It's Cat Blog Day

It would be nice to have a day of "down time," and still be home. Does it ever happen? Thought I had one yesterday, but it didn't turn out that way, so I had great hopes for leisure today. Discovered at 9:15 that Thisbe had a vet appointment at 10:15.

Unfortunately, the vibes perked up through the ceiling into the area under the bed where she was indulging in a power nap. Had the wind up already, and couldn't be lured out with catnip and sweet talk. Kept moving from one side of the bed to the other. I put on gloves and got out S.O.'s now unused crutch and poked at her until she left the friendly confines of the bed. She thought (ha! ha! Thisbe), that she would race downstairs, or perhaps under the guest bed, but I had thoughtfully closed the bedroom door. Grabbed her and shoved her into the cat carrier.

Meows of protest all the way there. Then, as it always happens, she does not wish to egress the cat carrier. Such a safe, cozy place all of a sudden. Nonetheless, the "nice lady" took her out and weighted her. 16.8 pounds, about the same as last year.

"Why is such a big cat afraid of everything?" the vet asked, and I had no answer. If you're a fraidy cat you could be as big as a barn and still cower.

So, exam and shots over, we waited for the presentation of the bill, while a really big dog appropriately named "Moose," eyed the cat carrier with benign curiosity. Home again, but the bedroom door was still closed and the painters were on ladders, able to look in windows, and what's a cat to do? Retreat to the basement, of course, where the windows are small and no one is liable to stare in.

You will remember that Friday is Cat Blog Day. I am publishing a photo of Thisbe for her fans. She still has an unseemly addiction to cat nip, and loves Mommy-Kitty time. If only all relationships were so uncomplicated.

The Christmas Calf

My worst fears were not realized when we got plowed out and drove over to the pasture yesterday to see what had befallen the new calf. There was no sad frozen lump in the field, and the two visible cows (the new bull and Crooked Horn) were behind the barn, which must have meant that Maggie and her calf are in the barn. There was freezing rain and the road back to the field wasn't even plowed.

Significant Other is a saint for humoring me. Except for ice everywhere and wind from the arctic circle, the weather isn't too bad. Sun is out. How soon we adjust to winter. I gave the farmer's wife the calf pictures we had taken off and on. I do hope this little critter makes it. The calves are beyond sweet and so independent once they grow a bit.

Thisbe is asleep in front of my screen and Annie is on the rocking chair a few feet away. Every morning Thisbe goes into the (now) cold garage and sits on a mat in front of where the chipmunks broke into the bird seed this fall. Once she started chasing chipmunks, she seemed to realize that she was a cat, and now she obviously expects to find a chipmunk hiding out in the garage, a real live cat toy. There may be one for all I know, except the bird seed is secured in metal pails with tight lids, so no one is noshing on that except the birds.

The new suet feeder was raided a few nights ago, along with the old. Raccoons are not hibernating yet. A clever set of paws opened the latch and removed the suet. It's cold and icy and the birds will have to make do with yet the third feeder which no critter has figured out how to raid (yet).

I'm sending some pages of Festival Madness to an editor today, and the entire MS to another editor tomorrow. I've essentially given up on agents, sad to say. The Gather Contest was an unmitigated disaster, and I don't know what to do with Promiscuous Mode, my noir cosy.

Ah well, no work gets done in the next two weeks. More baking today, another new recipe, with meatloaf and baked potatoes tonight, comfort food for the arriving traveler. We agreed that the pot roast was wonderful comfort food. The winter solstice time brings with it a need for hearty warm fare, beefy fare truth be told, althought a piping hot chicken pie wouldn't be bad at all.

Warm thoughts to all the creatures who must survive in the cold this season.

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Missed Cat Blog Day Again

Damn! I missed cat blog (Friday) day again.

A day in the life of Thisbe:

Go upstairs after a snack and greet mistress as she is awakening.
Twice a week--get brushed. Love it!
Downstairs for another snack.
Out onto the front porch until a person, vehicle or (horrors) dog appears. Beat retreat.
Beg for catnip and receive same.
Downstairs to home office. Chased back upstairs by Annie who thinks this is HER territory.
Look out the kitchen window on the cat perch. Observe squirrels, chipmunks, birds and people. Even vehicles and dogs. Safe and sound.
Upstairs and under the bed for a power nap.
Downstairs for another snack.
Maybe some serious mouse play. Possibly even vigorous mouse play (VMP)
Hang out in the living room during dinner and ball game.
Beg for more catnip.
A snack before bedtime.
Accompany grownups to bed. In summer, sleep on floor by bed. In winter, curl up at foot of bed.
Middle of night: occasional mouse play if the mood arises.
Sleep until next snack time.

What a life!

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Where My Whimsey Takes Me: Food, Cats and the Red Sox

Food for thought: last night, just before the steaks went on the grill, I thought to myself, "those are 'way too big for us to eat both of them." That being said, we ate one and a small piece of the other. This is what you do with leftover steak for another meal:

Create a sauce from mayonnaise, sour cream, Dijon mustard, capers, and salt and pepper.
Slice the cold steak thinly. Serve on a bed of lettuce with thinly sliced red onion rings, tomatoes and the sauce.

I concoct a new dessert. Although beaucoup recipes call for it, instant espresso powder is hard to come by. Medaglia d'Oro used to make it, but I haven't seen theirs in a store for a donkey's age. I buy it from King Arthur catalogue, but I ran out. Wanted to order at least a couple things to merit the postage. I make a South Beach Diet dessert from low-fat ricotta, cocoa, instant espresso powder, a tad of vanilla and 1 1/2 packets of Equal. It tastes good and doesn't induce guilt. But we are out of the espresso powder.

I toasted some sliced almonds, and added almond extract (just a little), low fat vanilla yogurt, to the low-fat ricotta. And the Equal. Mixed it up good in the mixer. Yum! This was a winner. The yogurt made it smooth and creamy. I like the Stonybrook Farm yogurt best.

These are some of my shabby little secrets.

I hauled an extra plastic bag of bird seed to the garage a couple days ago. Today, S.O. and I were on our way to Home Depot, and we wanted to find a galvanized bucket with a lid to store the birdseed in, and another one to dump ashes from the grill. Home Depot had no such animal. I can't understand why a galvanized pail with a lid isn't available everywhere, but so it goes.

When we got home, we found an old pail that would do for the ashes. I noticed some critter had already eaten a hole in the birdseed bag, and the floor of the garage was littered with sunflower seed hulls. The cats have been spending lots of time in the garage, even Thisbe, who parked herself in front of the firewood. So a critter had moved in and helped himself to the birdseed.

While I was looking for a container to dump the birdseed into, Thisbe took off Out of The Garage about 30 MPH, across the lawn to the neighbor's deck. This is unheard of. She never ventures off the porch. Whatever she was chasing, most likely a chipmunk, got away and she discovered she was not in the friendly confines of the front porch or the back deck or the garage. Panic. Tail becomes the size of a baseball bat. I walk over and talk her back to the garage, but she decides it's safer to come in the front door. Tail still huge and fur standing up. Horrors! What came over me? she seems to be saying. My god, what was I thinking of?

We are having a homebody kind of Labor Day. I go to Gerlach in a week and have stuff to do that I have been postponing at home. The icky kind of office work that you really don't ever feel like doing. Indefinitely postponed. Got to get it taken care of.

Last night I wrote the first three paragraphs of Bad Trip, and found the notes I had made about the incident at the Oakland Motel. They read: (desk clerk speaking to very attractive young lady) "He asked, 'what room is the chick with the weird name in?' He saw you check in."
The girl became panicky and checked out immediately and left in a big black car. Hmmm. So what was that all about? It will work in my story.

Now I am off to eat that cold steak and the leftover almond dessert. Life is good. The Red Sox rookie pitched a supremely memorable game last night, a no-hitter. Glad we were home. Glad we weren't watching a movie. Fun and exciting to see the triumph of such a nice young pitcher. Great baseball moment. What a thrill for the folks at Fenway Park.

Onward

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