Sometimes it’s hard to believe I used to blog every day. Simpler times, I guess, but maybe we’re heading back there. Twitter is no longer Twitter but it’s still chugging along, hemorrhaging users; Facebook is a quiet little cesspool best engaged with asbestos gloves and metal tongs; and BlueSky is still too small and private to be meaningful from a marketing/networking standpoint - but hey, maybe that will change with time.
Everything always does, right?
Maybe it’s okay if it stays a relatively quiet hangout with friends, instead.
Anyway. Having some real serious thoughts lately about finding something other than writing to do with my time. Every corner of every creative industry is just so damn…bad right now, you know? It’s always been hard, yes; it hasn’t always been this hard.
I guess when the dust settles, we’ll see what comes next.
Something always does, right?
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By way of bringing you up to speed on the household (God, it’s been like, a month since I posted here, I am truly the worst), everything is fine. Everyone gets along, Monty is gaining chonk and fluff, and the weather has been very nice. I had a houseguest for a week, as part of our annual “Grown-Up Summer Vacation” - whereupon we mostly go shopping or sit on the deck with fruity, frosty adult beverages and just… don’t have any major responsibilities for a few days.
She’s a public high school teacher in Memphis. If anyone on God’s green earth deserves the break, woo boy howdy.
* * *
Lucy still desperately wants to be Monty’s BFF, and she’s making strides. They routinely hang out and will exchange polite nose-boops daily, though playtime is a little fraught - as they both get overstimulated easily, and tend to accidentally frighten each other with their enthusiasm. But they’re getting there.
Naughty-looking fluffy black dog (a husky/shepherd mix) smiles real big like, “No, I’m not up to anything at all, why would you ask?” and she’s almost certainly lying.
A couple of days ago I watched Lucy and Monty play “chase”… which is to say, Monty bapped Lucy on the head and ran away, thereby daring her to come after him - and she took him up on it with the cutest halting, scrambling lurches. For a second I thought it was weird and wondered if she was okay, then I realized she was taking pains not to overtake him too quickly or with too much threat attached. She seems to understand that he is both (a). a badass lil MF, and (b). not as mobile as other cats she has known, and therefore (c). adjustments must be made.
Learning a new communication style takes time, that’s all - and at present, Monty has only been with us since May 27, so… not quite two months.
In that time, he’s learned that swipey/bitey “pay attention to me” behavior will not be rewarded, but soft-pawed bap-bap-bap is fine - and if he brings us toys we will play with him. He’s also learned the joy of treats, the delights of window perches and fluffy blankets, and the pleasures of human fingernails on the right side of his head/neck/shoulders (where he can no longer reach, thanks to the missing leg).
I got him one of those corner scratchy things that he can use in lieu of fingernails - and although he will use it sometimes, he prefers the human touch if it’s available. Sometimes he leans into it so hard, I feel like I’m about to drill a hole right through his noggin; but whatever makes him happy, that’s what I say.
Insouciant gray tabby of increasing fluff and attitude lounges in a cradle-shaped cardboard scratcher.
I’ve never understood people who keep animals and just… don’t give a damn if they’re happy.
Monty is very purry, so it’s easy to tell when he’s in a good mood. He’s also started meowing - something we never heard in the first month or so he was here, so that’s new. I’ve heard it said that cats only meow because people talk, and they’re trying to join the conversation - and maybe that’s true. He’s definitely figured out that meowing = talking, and he’s not afraid to shout when he feels it’s warranted.
But he’s not a problem at night, and indeed he would rather curl up on top of the blankets to purr-snore ‘till dawn. It is unreasonably adorable.
As for Greyson, since he’s…well…Greyson, he gets along with pretty much everyone everywhere all the time anyway - so he and Monty are A-Okay. They don’t cuddle, but they hang out amicably and Greyson is no longer afraid of his new roommate, so that’s all good.
Of course, Greyson is also getting older - a fact which is both difficult to ignore, and difficult to swallow. At present he’s about 11-1/2, and for a dog his size that means arthritis, hip dysplasia, lipomas, hearing loss, and occasional bouts of restless confusion. We’ve been so, so lucky to have him in good health for so long - and we hope to keep him that way a bit longer still. He has always been the very best of dogs, and we could not have asked for a better guy to be our first.
Handsome old man dog who is fluffy and black (with a sugar face and white chest, spotty feet) smiles innocently up at the camera.
Ugh, that reminds me. Their mobile groomer is folding up shop after their next appointment and we need to find somebody new. I’m not looking forward to that, not least of all because we really like these guys - but they’re packing up and moving at the end of the summer, and so it goes.
If you’re in the Seattle area and you know of a mobile groomer that serves Beacon Hill, is open to new clients, and will take dogs in the 80-90 pound range - by all means drop me a message: cherie.priest@gmail.com
(I’ve been often told that they’re easy clients. Greyson is anxious/drooly, but he behaves himself. Lucy is whiny at first, but she actually loves the attention. They’re up to date on all their vaccinations [of course] and have been groomed roughly every six weeks their entire lives, except for the pandemic. More info available upon request.)
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Right. So. That’s all I’ve got for now. I’m working on a draft of a book to follow up (but not be a sequel to) The Drowning House (which comes out late next year through Sourcebooks)… and after that, I don’t know. We’ll see. I have a couple of manuscripts that haven’t sold, and I don’t know if they’ll ever sell. I don’t know what to work on next. I don’t know if it matters.
At any rate. Maybe I’ll try to make a habit of posting (more or less) daily writing progress, like I used to in ye olde LiveJournal days. It might be a good habit. It might just become one more stressful obligation for the day, who knows.
We’ll see how I feel about it tomorrow.