New Foreigner Book!


a few hardcovers and pbs available from Closed Circle, signed. Latest: Moonlover and the Fountain of Blood, Jane Fancher short story. Chernevog, part 2 of the Rusalka trilogy co-written by CJ and Jane; and Orion's Children, a tetralogy from Lynn.

Back’s been killing me. I got a new chair…

with lumbar support. And I’ve got a real find, a ‘laptop cart’ from Office Depot, rolls right up to the chair at the right height, and better yet, the top can lift off and become a lapdesk. Best little laptop support going. laptop cart

Did I mention bashing myself in the eye?

Bent over to get something from my purse, hanging on the coat tree…bam! right into one of the metal arms. That hurt. A lot. I don’t quite have a shiner, but I do have a very red eye.

The hard drive crashed. Bigtime. No warning.

The good news is—Carbonite.
I’ve pulled the critical file down off the cloud and have put it on laptop #2. We are running. They promise me a new drive by Tuesday. Dell diagnosed over chat, on another computer, while I read off instructions and Jane pushed buttons, and yes, it is most sincerely dead. The good news is, again, Carbonite. I don’t have e-mail at the moment, but I do have The File.

Jane and I will have no trouble installing the new drive, which will come in with Win 7, with Win 7 disks, in case of screw-up, and we will just have to sit through endless downloads of updates and patches while THAT gets organized, but hey, it sure beats the lightning strike on a prior book, in which Lynn and Jane were down at Kinko’s scanning in pages and I was reconstituting text from a very bad (couldn’t tell double ll from H or m or whatever).

If you have critical stuff on your computer, Carbonite is a real good idea.

We are FINALLY seeing light at the end of the tunnel…

and it’s not the 5:10 train.

We have just about finished the window trim and are beginning to move furniture from where it has been piled (in any large empty space in the house—scratch that: any place void of furniture. We have, since November blackout, had furniture out of place, rooms nearly emptied, furniture piled in the kitchen, with paths to get to the pantry, to the back door, to the kitchen, wherever. You walk past, brush some broom leaning against some box and three boxes fall, spilling contents. We are so frayed and tired—at one point there was only one place each to sit in the living room, and the rest literally piled with furniture. We pass the tv control to whoever is sitting with a clear shot at the good spot to communicate with the set.

Now—we clean up, dust, rearrange, tidy up, and our house begins to look like other than a warehouse for lost boxes.

Jewelry…lack of,—for some years; now repaired.

We’re rough on jewelry. Admittedly. We don’t lose rings by taking them off. We damage them by wearing them while running a tiller, etc, or by just having the loop wear as a chain slides through.

After nearly six years Jane and I treated ourselves to some repair. I now have my rings wearable again, and am resolved to be kinder to them. Jane has the stag pendant nicely repaired and on a very pretty chain.

Feels nice to have the shinies again.

Worked ourselves to exhaustion: I cooked a special dinner…

And just as we sat down, we saw a huge puddle coming from under the entertainment unit, emanating from the freshwater fish tank in the corner, and soaking our new living room floor.

We mopped, we moved things, we fixed stuff, we swore in ways Bet Yeager would approve, and we put a fan on the problem. There is damage. There is also a waterproof underlayment, which assured it spread, but it spared the downstairs ceiling.

We thought we stopped it.

This morning there was another puddle. I swore some more and this time yanked the wretched filter system completely out and installed a simple Penguin filter (yes, Paul) that cannot leak—dried off the floor, and think I have it solved.

The good news is there are only 6 planks that have water-risen edges, and we have 4 extra boxes of laminate. We should be able to repair the floor. The problem is, the installation is directional, in terms of how they go in, but we think we may be able to do it in reverse, and work toward the wall rather than away from it.

We are so very tired. There is no joint that does not ache. WHY the tank leaked has to do with a pipe fitting, I think, but I have now taken that entire pipe out of service, so I do not think we will have a repeat.

We are just glad that we were sitting there when it happened. It was a cold dinner, but if the whole 50 gallons had gone—it was about 8, total—we would have had to order more floor.

Kobo glitch now fixed.

Had the word from DAW.

Good news on Kepler glitch.

Glitch unglitched, apparently. Huge sigh of relief.

Kobo glitch to be fixed.

DAW is aware and working on it. They think it’s a code missing in something.

The windows are in—not all trimmed, but in, in one day.

Gorgeous, but there were some communication breakdowns re what they were going to do and how much time we had to do it…which meant that we expected the front of the house on one day, the back of the house on the next, which they didn’t—so we had to scramble, tired as we were, to move the Rubik’s Cube of the office, not to mention shift the cats about to safe areas without windows missing; and each window (there are 10) has 8 trim parts, from 4 inner moldings to the 4 framing pieces, the sill and the sill support. Which we had pulled to sand and paint, and which began to get mixed up. Jane wanted (with an artist’s sense) to have a fine-furniture finish to all the paint; and it meant a lot of stooping and carrying, which we’re getting too stiff to do, and then I bought oil-based primer, and used water as a brush-dip extender—that’s how exhausted I was, absolutely brain dead. So Jane then had to fix that problem with about 8 pieces atop all the rest.

We were by that time totally fried, the project leader was getting tense, but we managed to get the situation straightened out, however—we agreed that they should do the exterior work on the first non-rain day (it started raining this morning) and that we would meanwhile spackle what needs spackling around the frames, paint, and then prep those molding bits as we like, then call them and they will come out and do the final set.

We were so tired and sore that we could hardly move. Vitamin D, water, calcium, water, magnesium, water, and zinc, with water—all helped. But we agreed that the back pain was somewhere around the level of a broken bone. Or toothache. Jane also lost a filling while eating a very simple burger, so now there’s that to fix.

On the other hand, the windows are beautiful and clear and wonderful. White frames. And the leaking corner of the front window is definitively repaired and solid. We had some mold going there, now fixed, as well.

And the front window is gorgeous. I took pix. Jane will put them on her site when she gets her computers running again…everything had to be unplugged and moved about. The cats took it remarkably in stride, and are just glad to have the run of the house. Skittish Sei was fairly amenable to being caught with all the banging and machine noise going on—I think it finally penetrated his kitty skull that I was trying to protect him, so he didn’t try to run, just clung like Velcro as I shifted him from my room to Jane’s and then to the basement.

We are done with this phase of the house reno as soon as we finish the trim and do the last little bit of floor under the main window. At that point, we cry halt for a number of months.