lizvogel

My mechanic finally called, and my trusty* Saturn LW300 is headed for the great freeway in the sky. I was right that it was the timing chain; unfortunately when it went, it took a bunch of engine valves and things with it. I'd be looking at a new engine if I wanted to keep it on the road, if he could even find one, and aside from the fact that that would cost about as much as I paid for the thing, (a) that's pretty much the car, and (b) that's a hell of an expense to put into a 24-year-old car with 293,000 miles, a rusted-out frame, and a dodgy transmission.

*Okay, not so trusty; it's been a repair nightmare since I bought it. But damn it, I liked that car. It was a real joy to drive on the expressway, and it had a lot of neat little features. (Switchable traction control! even if I never did use it.) And I've had it for 16 years; we've been through a lot together.

At least I got to take that one last long trip with her, to Narrativity in June. And as they say on Cabin Pressure, at least this is landing on Mayfair with a hotel. One of the challenges of an old car is the increasing questions of "Is this the last repair? Is this?" A potential $4-5K repair doesn't leave much to question.

Luckily I still have my mom's old minivan, so while I will need to go car shopping, at least I'm not stranded without wheels until I find something.

I'll be heading over tomorrow to clean her out, hopefully with the housemate's help. And then I'll be calling junkyards to see if I can get anything for her: the tires, wheels, and windshield were new this year; that ought to be worth something to someone, and maybe she can help keep some other old beast on the road.

This morning I spent two hours writing (yay!!) on the designated writing laptop, which is so old that I'm happily running it in DOS mode. At the end of that, my eyes were a wee bit blurry, but far less so than after a few minutes' spell-checking with the help of my very tiny print paper dictionary.

Further confirmation, not that I needed it, that it's something in the quality of modern computer screens, circa WinXP-Win10 and newer.

Today I woke up early, successfully went back to sleep for a couple hours, finished a book, and wrote a mailing for the convention. It was going to be a good and productive day of con stuff. Then the housemate texted to tell me that today was voting day, and since both of our absentee ballots were still sitting in the mail organizer (fsck how is it August already?) and she won't get out of work before 7, we arranged that I'd bring the ballots and we'd go out to lunch. Got the mailing sent, and after the usual mad scramble to get out the door (There Is Always One More Thing), I set off... and just after I got on the expressway, there was a soft pff and suddenly I didn't have an engine any more.

So I called the local tow company, and called them again, and finally got through to someone who more or less knew how to answer a telephone. Luckily the driver was better, and arrived after only about ten minutes of me sitting in a hot car in the sun by the side of the ridiculously busy and loud expressway. Housemate met me at the mechanic's, we went to a different restaurant than planned, and dropped off the ballots on the way as she drove me home.

As car trouble goes it was pretty easy, but it's left me just effing done with this day. I should be working on the website and the workshop, but all I want to do is check out for the foreseeable.

1) Yesterday, when I'd got home from running errands and was changing clothes, Teh Kitten climbed up on my bed and was wandering around and around, squeaking. He liked petting but that clearly wasn't what he was asking for; he kept padding around and insisting on... something. Then I took off my shirt and dropped it on the bed, and he practically dived under it. (He did actually stick himself through the neck at for a minute.) Ah, says I, and went to get the light blanket-throw I keep for the purpose. I barely managed to unfold it without him climbing on it, then I spread it out over him and he curled up into a happy kitten lump. Yes, he wanted his blankie.

2) As I was making dinner, I glanced out the kitchen window and there was a deer. Right there in the backyard, standing over the septic tank, staring with great interest at... the deck, where both cats were hanging out. I spent several minutes tiptoeing around to try to see both the deer and the cats' reactions to her, without letting her see me. She did spot me through various windows a couple of times, with a "Huh, what's that?" stare, but when I froze and slowly pulled back out of sight she returned her attention to the cats. She kept coming closer, until she must have had her front feet in the flower bed; any closer and she would have been on the deck. And the cats? I don't think LittleGirl even realized she was there; she can't hear, of course, and she was so busy staring in through the door waiting for it to open that I don't think she noticed there was a visitor present. (Which is probably just as well, since LittleGirl thinks she is a panther and more than a match for something deer-sized.) Teh Kitten was sprawled out dozing in the sunshine; he was facing straight at the deer, and must have seen her through his slitted eyes, but she clearly wasn't something he needed to get worked up, or indeed to get up, about. The deer eventually went on her way, and the cats were far more interested in the treats they got for coming in.

3) The housemate & I had a lot of pent-up conversation after she was gone for five days, so I was standing in her room still chatting quite late last night. Teh Kitten came in, tail up and voice a-squeak, demanding that I follow him and give him something Right Now. But he didn't lead me to the food bowls, or even try to persuade me to let him out at a quarter past midnight; no, he led me to my room, climbed up on my bed, and insisted that I get into it too! It was time and past time for him to have a warm human to curl up next to, and he wasn't taking no or even soon for an answer. Luckily I was already ready for bed, so I was able to slide in -- he even let me have a decent portion of the mattress, and some covers -- and he promptly selected a suitable part of me for a backrest, and snuggled up just as should be.

Not sure how much of it I've detailed here, but I've been trying for over a year to get my mother's final tax refund. IRS agrees it's owed and agrees the amount; they just won't hand it over. Different excuse every time, and every time involves literally hours on the phone (mostly on hold), getting disconnected and having to start over from scratch at least once, and a truly Kafka-esque level of bureaucratic run-around.

So on June 16th, when the promised check still didn't arrive and the IRS was refusing to even take calls, I hunted down a working number for the Taxpayer Advocate Service. Multiply tries and another hour on hold, but I finally got through to someone who said yes, it's just the sort of thing they look into, and told me all the additional docs I should submit along with the form 911. (Yeah, somebody at the IRS had a sense of humor about that one.) A few weeks later, I got a letter saying they were working on the case. And on Friday, one month exactly since the form went in the mail, I got a check! For the full amount plus interest, which was certainly owed but I wasn't going to pursue because I figured it would require a separate claim.

Okay, so they made it care-of me instead of to my mom, which meant my bank had to run it through my personal account before transferring the equivalent amount to the estate account -- but it got there! We actually have the refund!

And that means that, two and a half years after she passed, after having to extend the estate twice solely because of this refund, I can finally settle my mom's estate.

A month since the end of Narrativity is approaching, and I am almost done with the post-con work! The coffeemakers are air-drying, preparatory to being packed and stored for a year, and I have some notes & ideas left to type up. But everything else, from doing the consuite's dishes to cleaning/counting/packing/storing the inventory and making notes on what we'll need to buy for next year to the no-show mailing and the free membership drawing and the consuite shopping list and and and and and... is done! (Doubtless I will now find something else that isn't, having typed that.)

And then... I get to start on next year's stuff! Or rather, dive into it, since next year's work has already started even while I'm still finishing this year's.

Two things that really helped this year: On Sunday night, pile everything into spare boxes (big thanks to my ConSuite Coordinator for saving those!) and haul it all to my room, and sort & pack on Monday when I can take my time. And for the shelves, toasters, and anything else that works, clean them at the hotel and final-pack them there, so I don't have to unpack them when I get home. Miles better!

The program book's at the printers, and I got four hours of sleep last night. That's actually excellent! Historically, it's been an all-nighter. But the head of programming got me the info a little early, and I've been working on the layout for some time now so that I could have all the inevitable battles with recalcitrant graphics and inadequate computer memory before the last minute.

There's no way that the final print-prep isn't going to mean a late night, because too much of it really is keyed to the midnight-Central-time final price change. But doing in advance what can be done in advance is definitely the way to go!

And now, I think I'm going back to bed.

Two days ago, we were watching the water pour through the tunnel the muskrats have cut through the berm, and that we haven't gotten around to fixing like we should have. Yesterday it ceased to matter, because the flood waters topped the berm. Today at least was sunny and nice, so I could look out at the lake we now live on the shore of.

The house is on a small rise, so we're okay as long as it doesn't get any worse, but another couple inches and we'll have to seriously consider sandbagging the AC compressor. The sump pump's been running basically non-stop.

The most annoying thing is that the grass really needs to be mowed, and even the few parts that aren't underwater are far too soggy to do anything with.

Feeling overwhelmed by the to-do list as usual, so I decided to just write everything else off for this week, and set the days aside for taking the cat to the vet, taking the car to the mechanic, and especially doing my taxes. Yep, just that; gonna focus on that and get it taken care of and not melt myself down trying to do seventeen things at once. Good plan.

And then I checked my email. What was that, like 20 seconds?

There's a thing I wasn't expecting to have to deal with until late May, and now I have to fit it in this week. And it's just a phone call, but it's a pretty big deal and I'm going to have to do a lot of prep for it, both practical and mental/emotional. And gawd, I just want to curl up with my tax forms and not deal with anything else, and instead I'm gonna have to fucking adult and I just don't wanna.

This always happens when I set aside a chunk of time to Just Do This. It's like blocking out the time creates a magnetic field that attracts other obligations. I wanna hide in a Faraday cage for time management.

The book I'm currently working on packing up for an old-school paper submission includes the bad guy being captured in part because he trips over a cat. Anyone who thinks that's unrealistic should see how much "help" my cats are currently giving me.