Friday, May 30, 2014

I said goodbye.

I said goodbye to my cat on Tuesday.
Now, I'm waiting on a call to go pick up his ashes.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

My cat is dying.

I have been saying that for about three years now. I don't know where else to vent this, so it's happening here.

Before I had Spawn, Hobbes was a fat, "senior" cat. After the baby came, Hobbes lost weight and had chronic diarrhea. This went on for Spawn's entire first year of life. We just knew it was the end.

But it wasn't.

Since we moved to Kentucky, Hobbes has gotten thinner and thinner. I know the reason is either a thyroid issue or cancer, but he's 17 years old. He's an old, tired kitty.

Two weeks ago, he had a huge drop in weight. He wobbles when he walks. He squeaks when he meows. He stopped purring. I switched him to wet food, which helped for a week. Now, he licks it a few times, and that's it. Today, I gave him a bowl of liquid from two tuna cans, and he drank every bit. I tried watering down the wet food, but I don't think he'll eat it.

He's starving.

I owe it to this wonderful pet - a part of my life for 17 years - to end his pain, but every time I think about it, I start crying. I don't have the courage to do it. He's suffering, I know it. I can see the glassy-eyed pain. I watch him fall over when he tries to go down the one step into his room. I don't know how he's managing to get in the litter box, but he is.

I just...

How am I supposed to do this?

Saturday, May 10, 2014

More Reviews of FAIREST

Amazon  and  Good Reads

Dear Readers,
          You may not know it, but your reviews matter quite a lot to me. I appreciate your buying my book, and I appreciate the time you took to go back to the site from which you purchased it and leave a review.

Saturday, May 3, 2014


I have this manuscript I've been working on for almost four years. I wrote about fifteen pages of it in one hour and then let it sit. Other projects came along or demanded attention. I had a kid. I finished my PhD, got a job, moved. Et cetera.

Now, I'm giving Camellia's story a break so I can be sure I like how book 7 ends and figure out what she should do next. While that cooks, I decided to go back to this little story. This story that Fluffy says is the best thing I've ever written. He's probably right.

Today, I finally FINALLY got past a huge block and managed to outline almost all of the rest of the novel. Holy crap does that feel great to know where I'm going even if I don't have all the little details yet. I may actually finish this thing, and it could end up being something really really special.

I am happy!

Thursday, May 1, 2014

"A mathematician is a machine that turns coffee into theorems."

 - Dr. Martin Evans


This post comes from my old blog (4/21/2011)

          I was driving across campus from dropping Fluffy off at the lab. It was early enough that I didn't have to watch too carefully for students darting across the streets. It makes me smile, just a bit, to think that the kiddos are like squirrels, except that the University squirrels know better than to run into the road without looking.  
          I was thinking about how many roads now have buildings in the middle of them. By that, I mean that the University built all these roads to connect the campus and then decided that 1) it was too connected to be safe for foot traffic and 2) they needed the space for new engineering buildings and rehab/expansion of some old ones. If they are going to cram 30K people onto the campus by 2015, they have to put them somewhere. I don't know who will teach them, but at least they'll have a nice room in which to sit.
          I saw a crane over what was the other half of the road I was traveling and thought about these radical changes. People that went to school at UA back when I was in my first go-round can't believe how much it's changed, and they can hardly navigate campus when they get off the main drag.
          But one thing that never changes is seeing students walk or ride bikes to class with large packs on their backs. I love that. I love to see the engineering students with their T-squares poking awkwardly out of their packs and an armload of drafting supplies. There goes an art student with an enormous portfolio case and a music student with an instrument case. The beauty, beyond the fact that they carry tools of the subject they love, is that their hands are too full with real world stuff to bother with cell phones. These overburdened ones don't have the finger and hand availability to text or chat as they walk, and so they look up. They watch where they're going. They observe. They learn. I love that.