Not going anywhere this morning - I need tea, and my feet are going numb, but there is snoring. She is very warm, and surprisingly heavy for something mostly fluff.

Been writing a bunch of exposition and in-depth character stuff on the serious book recently, so switching it up today with the fic, writing a very violent fight for Monster bloke. Six foot plus of muscles and bad temper in a fight club arena. He‘s finished punching things, and picked up a sword.

Fancy tonight. Bacon wrapped pheasant breast with cauliflower purée, and a warm salad of bacon, fennel, shallots and chestnuts/walnuts.

There is a mouse Somewhere in my office. Madam spat it out and has now decided to laze about grooming. I am Not Relaxed about trying to sit at my desk right now.

So - finally had my post surgery review re huge chunk of thyroid removed. All Clear. 🥳 Got a blood test next week to see if I need any meds, but I’m basically boring. All the WTF it was came out clean, I am so relieved.

Game casserole, with a sloe gin gravy, and a potato-celeriac mash. It tastes of chestnuts and the kind of homemade happy juice that brings regret. (But not while eating it)

“No” to Sunday. (There will be a magical appearance when the food bowl is rattled)

Italian baked hake, white beans and spinach.

Movies. Monsters. Mobsters. Murder. A lone wolf P.I and a museum curator dodge cops and mobsters in 30’s Hollywood, after she finds a recently dead crook in a box that should contain an ancient princess. The Mummy (1999) X Bringing Up Baby #QuestPit #M #HS #F #W #C

*sigh* Post surgical review cancelled until next week, so another seven days of nervous waiting. I no longer look like a botched beheading, but I’d like to know results soon.

When you aren’t going *anywhere* this morning

Braised short rib is fork tender. I am eating it with one elbow out to prevent a fluffy ginger marauder sticking her paws and whiskers in.

Beef short ribs on the go. This pot was already old when I picked it up second-hand (at least) as a student! Two temps only, no timer, solid stoneware inside, a beast to clean, will probably break your foot if you drop it.

Forgot to lay in sweets for tonight, so have cravenly turned off lights and am hiding from screeching kiddies outside.

Movies. Mobsters. Monsters. Murder. He’s a lone wolf P.I, she’s a museum curator, and together they find themselves dodging cops and mobsters through the streets of 30’s Hollywood when instead of a mummy, there’s a dead crook in a box. The Mummy (1999) X Bringing Up Baby #GhostPit #W #U #F #MM

Different side with baked salmon tonight - leeks and peas with bacon, white wine and lots of butter.

Number 4!!! 😱🐀🐀🐀🐀

Some nights, it’s care and attention and new recipes. Sometimes, it’s calories and ketchup.

Just evicted the third(!) rat of the day. (One dead, two…not) Cat is so very pleased with herself. Behold the face of one who wishes to be released to kill again.

That kind of a day. Beef casserole with about half a bottle of red wine in it, horseradish dumpling, and cabbage cooked in the remaining cream-peppercorn sauce from yesterday. (Rest of the apple tart afterwards.)

*stares at news* No. I’m going back to my happy little world of murder and monsters. I simply can’t be doing with - this. *gestures*

Tarte Tatin season is upon us. (Fruit is healthy.)

Just a little further on the slow shuffle down the road today, exhausted by it. Might be starting a cold, which could be…exciting.

Sneezing after throat surgery: Do Not Recommend. Have to leave mouth open, and…well, it’s a lovely day in the village, and I am a horrible goose. *honk* Still, did not explode over the room, so yay. writing aim today: tidy up chapter with body discovery/cops. MMC alpha protective, FMC epic side-eye

Brain is still a bit porridge, but I’m marginally less likely to scare small children in the street. (Think I’ll get myself a nice green ribbon for Halloween) Managed a bit of plotting, done some research on LA streetcars, wrote a couple of paragraphs.

Cannot pick the cat up for cuddles, and she does not understand. Indignantly clawing my knees and refusing to jump up by herself.

Boiler has decided to depressure itself today, no heating or hot water. And I can’t sort it (I usually do it) because even the lightest exertion with a wrench might depressurise me, and turning the garage into the Red Wedding isn’t high on the to-do list.

Another mouse gifted to me, this one is rather more lively. Sadly, I’m in the house alone, so have shut the door on events, as cannot move furniture or play catch.

Managed to wash, dress and walk 100m up the road and back. Absolutely shattered. Look a little less dug up and rehydrated today, but that’s not saying much.

Cat feels my recovery from surgery will be greatly enhanced by bringing me a mouse. I’m…less convinced by this, but she means well. Luckily, it is a very tired mouse, and husband has removed it.

I live! I have a gnarly scar that is going to be very cool for Halloween, but my voice is nearly back to normal and I’ve stopped the Linda Blair impersonation from the anaesthetic (that poor recovery nurse). Apparently, the correct medical terminology for the chunk they removed is ‘a right whopper’

So. (Deep breath.) Tomorrow I am going into hospital to have part of my thyroid gland removed, to see if they need to take the rest, and anything else that looks dodgy in there. I am fairly scared. Will probably not be posting for a while. Hope to see you on the other side.

It’s taken me a year, but I now have an icon and a banner! (A random selection of my books, which I will now have to reshelve correctly in genre/author/ publication order…)

Back from Tŷ Newydd. Big thanks to @alishawkinsauthor.bsky.social and @vaseemkhanuk.bsky.social for their tutoring and support, and a wild hand-waving to my fellow attendees. 🤪

Having a lovely time at Ty Newydd. There’s a book of Arthur Machen stories and a delicately painted poster of deadly fungi in my room. It’s like they know me. 🙂

Heading north to Ty Newydd for a week ‘amongst my own kind’ as OH puts it - crime writers, lovely people, horrifying breakfast chatter…

“We cannot be held hostage to whatever #caprice runs through the head of the creature.” “She’s a cat, I don’t think even you can outstubborn one.” “Try me.” (He slides back into bed in the small hours, she simply kisses him under the chin, grins at the faint scent of tuna. Big marshmallow.) #vss365

They’d prepared for every scenario, foreseen every #eventuality, except the one wild card. No way to predict that one woman could wreck things so thoroughly. On the face of it, so ordinary, a nobody. But she had power, influence, and a huge, horribly dangerous and entirely devoted partner. #vss365

When you flip between ‘The Mummy’ (1999), ‘The Big Sleep’ and ‘Bringing Up Baby’ on telly, things like this happen in a writer’s head. A happy homage to Golden Age Hollywood that acquired extra monsters on the way. Less hard-boiled noir, more lightly scrambled screwball romcom. #UnhingedPit #WIP

“Apparently, it’s a blend of herbs that will revive spirits and #reinvigorate your relationship,” Isabelle puts it carefully back on the shelf, “Nope, Himself is vigorous enough without assistance, thank you.” “I think it’s just herbal tea.” “But reading the label would only encourage him.” #vss365

“ #Perhaps I should consider the advantages of taking the job…” There is a low growl from the vicinity of her collar-bone which clearly conveys his opinion of that, and she laughs, drops a kiss on top of his head. “I’d last until the first patronizing leer, then I’d stab him with a pen.” #vss365

Not their first kitchen #catastrophe, they laugh over it, push the plates aside, consider whether to order takeout or pile into a car and search out a restaurant. There’s an ease in the mundanity of it, a life he never thought to have. (He’s a bit embarrassed to have burned dinner, though.) #vss365

“I‘m peasant #stock, I wouldn’t think your delightful cousin would let me in through the front door.” “He doesn’t even let me in through the front door.” His cousin is treating Isabelle like, well, royalty. A level of courtly attention that is hitting every instinct, including jealous male. #vss365

This adorable little fuzzy face is snoring like a congested walrus.

“Has he always been this dramatic?” “Oh, he was a terrible toddler - and such a horribly moody teenager. Does he still pout?” “Well…” “No, you are not allowed to #conspire with my mother.” ”Oh, yes, so he does.” #vss365

She didn’t micromanage, ran the office with a light hand on the #rein, but it soon became apparent that Isabelle was able to put a name to a face, and also often a fact or two, for nearly everyone in the place. And it was not a small facility. A refreshing change from the previous boss. #vss365

There are very few people who can look into that scarred and snarling visage without #flinching. Isabelle, of course, merely bobs up to kiss the corner of his mouth, with the darkly gleeful confidence of a woman who knows she’s blowing several minds in doing so. (One of them is his, still.) #vss365

The outside world knows him as a man of #style, clean shaven, always elegantly dressed, sharply tailored suits and overcoat. Isabelle gets to see him without his armour, a scruffed-up figure in shorts and open robe, yawning his way through his first coffee, all stubble and bed head. #vss365

She’d been in the running as a #potential successor, not as outwardly ambitious as some, but quietly competent. But that was professional. What she was like as a person was unknown, her private life just that. Finding out that the woman was so perfectly suited to her son was a complication. #vss365

“We’ve #exhausted all legitimate lines of enquiry. He’s covered his tracks too well. Local authority won’t budge.” “We’ll have to find leverage then.” “There’s rumours of a kid…” “We’re not threatening children.” Yet. “No, forget rumours. There’s a girlfriend. Bring her in.” (Big mistake) #vss365