I either have severe bronchitis or walking pneumonia. The con crud seemed to get better, then it suddenly got much worse last Saturday. I thought it was stress — you guys (well some of you) know what’s been going on, because stress in me often causes throat aches and upper respiratory distress (probably related to the fact I had asthma as a child and it kicked up with stress, just as my eczema does. Both are auto immune. I haven’t had asthma in more than two decades, but the upper respiratory can come from stress.)
My fans who are always like family, somehow, have been nagging me via email and pm about getting my sorry carcass to the doctor and I’ve been ignoring them because I was sure it was psychosomatic, but by yesterday afternoon I was aware that my breathing (and thinking) is severely impaired. I’m very congested, but not coughing nearly enough. I don’t think it’s ALL psychosomatic, and it’s highly likely it’s walking pneumonia, because it feels like when I had it before. This time I’m not waiting till I collapse and end up in ICU for 11 days — because you guys would kill me if I don’t feed you for 11 days. (Yes, it’s all for you, really ;) ) Also, because my sons and husband would be very upset.
My doctor has no openings, but said come on down and camp in his waiting room and he’ll work me in. So, going now. I’ll be back when I’m back. If a chapter of Rogue magic has to wait till tomorrow, so be it.
I’ll take the tablet and answer comments while waiting.
UPDATE: It’s bronchitis complicated by severe asthma (likely stress induced. I HATE the way my body cracks up under stress, but I’d like anyone who thinks this is a sign of weakness to know that when stress gets this bad I become a carrier as a means of relieving it.) I’ve had some stuff, I’m breathing a little better, head is clear by comparison to what it was, and I realized I have edits due at rayguns and OMG my non fic piece at PJM. Which comes down to “Not today” for chapter. Sorry guys. As is I’m likely going to nap before this other stuff.
According To Hoyt 
Wishing you a prompt and complete recovery. Que se mejore prontito, as the Spanish say.
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Get better soon! And I bet the doctor will set you up with some nice Mucinex to get that congestion out, among other stuff. Take your meds, take a nice steaming shower or bath when you get home, have some kind of hot drink, get some sleep, and I bet you’ll feel a lot better.
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I get strep every time I’m under stress, even without my tonsils, so I totally get the upper respiratory ickyness. Feel better! and hopefully you’re not waiting too long.
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Get well– and take care– Good thoughts going your way. Besides I know what you mean. I may have to see the doctor next week. *sigh (because I try to doctor myself so I don’t have to take antibiotics or other meds)
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Get well soon. We can wait.
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While I imagine a Sarah A. Hoyt funeral service could be as different as Jim Henson’s was, I’d rather not view it just yet. So I’m very glad you’re not repeating Henson’s mistake of toughing it out.
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Warm fuzzy thoughts directed your way.
(Ah dee-clares, ah has GOT to clear this attic ah calls my brain aired out more often. The ventilation in there has left everything covered in dust bunnies and worse.)
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Sorry to hear that. I wish you a speedy recovery.
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We can wait for the chapter (patiently might be asking too much). Getting you to the doctor is more important than getting another chapter.
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Get better!
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Do what you need to for healing. Be told.
Also, need more content. Does it come in a drip IV?
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Glad to see you doing what I’d say, not what I’d do.
Best wishes.
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I think it is our turn to entertain Our Sarah what is feeling poorly. Let’s do a random story, three lines each! I will start…
The first indication of trouble was the tape measures. Oh sure, they *always* had been known for hiding, but now they were being more obvious about it. If you didn’t make any noise, you could see them moving–extending the metal tape out, latching on to a chair, the dog, a doorknob–and then retracting.
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The socks were more subtle about it (and they often got the poor dog in trouble. When every laundry load contained an odd number, we knew something was afoot. A quick check when pulling out the camping supplies showed the left gloves, too, were making their way to parts unknown.
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So when I pulled open the cupboard that day and saw an odd number of cups, plates, and saucers, I opened every drawer, every food storage big, every plastic craft bucket and yes, not an even number among them.
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It’s the threes, she told me. And she reached in her front pocket and pulled out the missing tape measure, pointing to the number beside the third inch mark. It was glowing.
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In Japan, it takes a hundred years for an object to grow its own spirit. But now we live on internet time, which apparently is 33.3 times faster, so everything that wasn’t almost new was coming alive. I looked at the tape measure, thought about all the overworked priests in the world and realized — if I wanted all my craft stuff exorcised, it’d have to be a DIY project.
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And I couldn’t leave the supplies where the tape measures could get at them. I would have to accumulate them all and lug them about.
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There were faint sounds coming from the library sort of like all the music in the world playing at the same time. Entering silently I discovered the source was the bottom shelf where the LPs were stored – they were playing themselves. *Of course* I thought, they are 33 1/3 RPM records!
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“How long have you had this tape measure?” I asked.
“Ever since we visited Roswell, thirty years ago,” she replied. “It’s my favorite.”
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“Six Six” I muttered. “Six Six dash.”
She asked why I thought of that number. “It’s been sixty-six years since the Roswell crash and Six Six Six is the number of man.”
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“Oh my griddles!” she exclaimed. “Of course — Six-six Dash Six heavy! It was my grandfather’s flight designation in the B47 incursion over Tunguska!”
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“It seems to like you too,” I murmured, seeing the tape measure stealthily attaching itself to her shoelaces. “I thought I left that exorcism script running on the computer, but maybe they upgraded. I wonder where it thinks it’s taking you?”
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“Of course,” said Mortimer. “It’s missing the hardware. You still need the bell, the book, and the candle.
“Virtual doesn’t cut it.”
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The candle I had, because storm candles were cheaper than sewing wax. And I could borrow one of Stacy’s bells—maybe the one she got in St. George a few years ago, the orange and yellow one? But something told me the usual book might need a little supplement.
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For one thing, the question of “what constitutes a book these days?” had to be confronted: dead tree, digital, audio? If dead tree, then hardbound or paperback, and if paperback, mass market or trade? It seemed obvious that a digital book should be DRM free, but I wasn’t at all sure what format an audiobook would have to be, although I was certain that tape would not work.
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I was afraid an exorcism would cause a burst of EMP, so I decided digital was out. Since time was of essence I decided to run to the bookstore rather than order one online, you just can’t trust the postal service to be on-time these days. As I got in my car I thought it was a real shame I had scrapped my old one last year, if things were coming to life in only 33.3 years now, it should be coming back to life any month now.
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Uh-oh, I thought, as it dawned on me that 33 is the product of two prime numbers. And, Yikes! Jesus was 33 when they got him! And, why is there a Fifth Third bank? What does that mean? I am hunkering down, locking the door, and fondling the revolver.
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um… and when I almost died of pneumonia I was thirty three.
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Hah, I haven’t been 33 for almost a week, so I dodged that bullet.
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Here’s hoping you get a complete recovery.
Incidentally, saw Pacific Rim last night, and if giant robots, giant monsters, or the oeuvre of Guillermo Del Toro scratches an itch for you, it’s crazy fun.
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Guillermo del Torro has eggs?
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I would not be in the least bit surprised.
He probably has them a lot. Scrambled… Over easy… Soft boiled… In the form of migas…
Now I’m thinking of the potential ova oeuvre of Guillermo Del Toro.
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Well, that would be a soufflé.
With robots and leviathans.
Or possibly the Guardia Civil.
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You sound like you need a holiday, as well as that doctor. A day or two when you just eat ice cream and watch movies or whatever your personal poison may be. Try to fit something like that somewhere, we should be able to manage occasional days without your posts. It would be much worse if you end in a hospital or something and we’d have to do without for weeks.
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Many people would phrase that haven’t had an asthma attack in some time. Asthma is generally a chronic condition in which the airways are always and forever inflamed – although this was not recognized until fiber optics and miniaturized TV – but only sometimes grossly enlarged – and when enlarged of course some people can’t breath and die while others merely wheeze.
The inflamed compared to non-asthmatics condition does not go away between such episodes. Many people find it pays to use a peak flow meter routinely and keep a diary including relatively small changes while watching for triggers such as reduced peak flow after time outdoors or in the horse barn or whatever. Some folks will find reduced air flow after gardening or sitting in front of a wood fire roasting marshmallows or whatever and that air flow is improved with a steamy shower (but watch for mold and mildew leading to a worsening condition just as a rain shower will often improve allergies immediately by cleaning the air only to worsen things with a bounceback as the moisture changes the ecosystem).
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Do whatever it takes to get better, Sarah. Although I hate to mention it, there are several bloggers who have stepped back this week because the ‘Net stress and other things were taking too much of a toll.
At the risk of being redundant, have you thought of an official open thread for writing? As in, what are we working on, who needs to vent about writer’s block, anyone looking for alpha/beta readers, tips on finding alpha/beta readers (trails of crumbs didn’t work. Should I have used white bread instead of rye?), who’s going to Cons this season.
And I’m proofing and revising that thing I said I’d send you. Really. As soon as Elizabeth von Sarmas puts down the marshal’s baton she’s threatening me with. Look, your grace, you were supposed to get one book. You got three. I’m not doing a four . . . ow, ow!
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This might be a good time to solicit reader input — I.E., guest blog posts. I’ll see what I can do, and I’m sure there are others here that would willingly contribute. I’ve been having headaches since early December, so I know how stuff can hang on and ruin your day/week/month/year/decade/century… Take care and get well (just don’t drive US24 when it rains…)!
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Just emailed her a reminder of something along those lines. Hopefully Sarah has enough of a saved up “backlog” that she doesn’t feel the need to get off the couch and write something new to post.
Like saving for a disaster, it’s a good idea when you’re feeling good to put aside some “timeless” posts that you can break glass on and use in case of an emergency.
Of course, that only really applies to people who post on their blog regularly, unlike slackers like me that tend to go a week without posting anything and then post three things the same day because I happened to see or think about something I wanted to respond to/post about. That’s a much worse way to build any kind of following, so it’s not like I can talk…
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Yes. Thank you for sending it. But I’d promised the snerk to let people see his writing!
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You’re not camping in the doctor’s office, you’re researching personal interaction between strangers for background characters! :-P
Or are you catching up on your To Be Read list, while forcibly removing yourself from internet drama?
Hey, hope it can easily be cleared up with a run of antibiotics, and if not, that you get better soon anyway. You are more important than your output, and the cats would be very upset if you weren’t there.
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Back. Severe bronchitis, complicated by (stress induced) asthma attack. Got meds. Got sarcastic thanks from doctor about coming in before I needed to go to hospital. He’s known me a long time.
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He’s known me a long time.
1. I’ve only known you (online) for a short time, but it feels considerably longer. You may consider yourself Odd, but you have a way with people.
2. I trust you do not feel obliged to immediately post a novel chapter, several short stories, and an extended analysis of Gibbon’s views on Roman decline.
3. And I trust you did not flush guiltily while reading the foregoing.
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Re: 2-3 – You did note the addendum, yes? Edits and an article, right after these messagesa nap?
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I didn’t note the addendum, no, nor do I know when it was posted.
shrug
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Those are due. I can’t leave PJM without copy. I promised. And the edits are minor.
It’s just annoying as half of my head isn’t working. Once this is done, I’m going to watch westerns with younger son, though. (By then he should be done cleaning.)
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1. Understood. After time passed, PJM might remember that you were sick enough that the hospital loomed, but they would remember you missed a deadline.
However, you seem to burn the candle at both ends. I speak from experience that one’s body eventually puts a stop to that.
2. I liked Darkship Thieves and your online Witchfinder was promising enough to pry six bucks out of me for a real copy. My overall impression from my limited acquaintance with—and enjoyment of—your output is that you have it in you to take your work to the next level. I don’t mean to stick my nose in your personal business; I’m a self-interested consumer who hopes you produce, and I live to read, the work I suspect you’re capable of. ;-)
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Gah. You sound like my husband who says that I’m only halfway there in my development as a writer. GAH. Well, let’s hope I have another twenty years, yes?
Right now a lot of this is battling the idiot body. There’s also stuff making it more difficult. It will pass, though. You know what they say “you can survive anything for two years.” (Except the surface of Mars. Maybe.)
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You’ve overcome great obstacles to establish yourself in a demanding, highly competitive endeavor. Kudos. That’s the good news.
The bad news is you can do better.
Get well.
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Eh. I know I can and that’s not the bad news. If you stop, you’re dead. BUT let’s just say this next year (possibly two years) will be difficult. After that a number of time/and/mind sucks should be removed. Unless, of course, I die or we collapse before. Cheers.
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Hurray that you’re back! Take your meds as per the Doc’s instructions so we can continue to enjoy your writings.
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Listen to your doctor. Don’t worry about us. We’ll entertain ourselves using _A Few Good Men_ to exorcise a haunted tape measure. On Kindle, of course. The haunts have developed resistance to paper and ink.
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BLINK. You’re going to use Nat and Luce?
Pauses. Well,if I were a demon, I’d run away!
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It was that or MHI. You’ve got to intimidate Those That Haunt Tools.
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MHI doesn’t scare ghosts–they don’t go after ghosts because there’s no body, and no PUFF.
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Point.
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But do they go after tool youkai? If the tape measure up and licks you, I think there’s enough of a body for MHI.
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Would the PUFF differ for a metric vs. English tape-measure? Given the declining Euro to dollar rate, an English measure might bring in more . . . why are you looking at me like that? Go check the employee handbook that came out this week? OK.
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A lot of them are now multiply resistant to hardback, trade and mass market paperback. I’ve even heard some disturbing rumors of Bell-Audio-book-and candle exorcisms failing.
Pretty soon it’ll be ringtones, ebook, and LED. Oh, Lord, what has this modern world led us to!
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Naaah, the only way to fight multiply-resistant demons is with a bigger demon. The problem is making sure the contract is of short enough duration the collateral damage is minimal. Otherwise, you end up with something like Tunguska, or the Arizona mediator crater.
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You’ve got to be careful, with these new online Demon Shopping Emporiums. _Read the Licensing agreement_ before you check the square and move on to the merchandise. And I highly recommend using one of those prepaid VISA cards. You don’t want a demon to have your number.
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Do you have any good lines to mutter while you are in the waiting room to freak out the other patients?
“Never touch the alien bodies. Never touch the alien bodies. Never touch the alien bodies …” always works well for me.
I use a different line in the dentists’ office tho’.
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I hope that you get better soon. I’ve gone through lots of horrible respiratory crud in my time, so I know all too well how disabling it can be.
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Get well soon. Good thing you have a sensible, human doctor.
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Sarah, get well. Introduce a guest post/writer with a word or two – I’m sure your long-time readers would take on a day or two.
TXRed: “anyone looking for alpha/beta readers, tips on finding alpha/beta readers (trails of crumbs didn’t work. Should I have used white bread instead of rye?)”
This. I finally looked up alpha readers – I don’t want any of them! No one should be subjected to my raw drafts. My writing partner – now friend and way too busy for being a writing partner – and I used to share pages when we got together as newbies.
Now: how does one find beta readers, and is the process of giving them a finished and polished chapter at a time still called beta? My terminology is a bit woozy, since alphas are supposed to get it as you write, and betas when the book is finished, so what I am calling ‘beta’ really isn’t either.
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ABE, you may have seen these before:
http://madgeniusclub.com/tag/beta-readers/
Lots of good stuff, but I’m not part of the local writers’ group (Yet. I may join.) and my two usual beta readers are “a little busy” just now.
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Thanks, TXRed. Following link.
At the very beginning of writing, you take whoever is willing to read something you write.
As time goes on (and the readers you accepted/coerced/bribed get bored/overwhelmed/a life), you find you need very specific things from alpha/beta readers, and you have to be more clear when you start the relationship. And you may STILL lose them. ‘A little busy right now.’
The gift of someone’s time is a precious commodity.
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You solicit them where you think you might find kindred souls. For instance, you post here that you want (number) beta readers for a books that’s (description here).
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Mary, Did you mean here as in Sarah’s blog? Or was ‘here’ in your post a link that didn’t make it?
I get my advice on writing and publishing on a number of blogs. I don’t feel I can hijack their comment threads for my needs. Something smacks of ‘netiquette problems’ in that. Ie, I haven’t seen people ask (successfully or otherwise) for beta readers on someone else’s blog.
But you gave me an idea: I will go add a subpage on my blog under About that says: ‘Looking for beta readers’. Maybe someone dropping by will be intrigued. I’ll put up what I’m looking for and what I will provide. AND I’ll do a quick post about it, so my followers will get the same information – in case any of them would be interested.
Give me a couple of days – I’m switching computers, and we all know how easy that is. It’s like moving to Paris from North Dakota. Paris, France.
Thanks so much!
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I don’t presume to join a thread of professional writers but I did get a rejection from F&SF back in mumble, so here goes:
Next was the lighting, bulbs loose in their sockets. We heard a crash one night and found a shattered bulb, fallen from its ceiling fixture.
The house felt angrier after that.
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Mortimer claimed it was ghosts, who didn’t like that they could not see their reflections in the glass.
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Side thought that it might be the Brownies irritated that there was an area they couldn’t dust was quickly put aside with a hard look under the bureau. Good news was that the bowls of milk could be dispensed with in the future, but it still left the question of the bulbs.
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Finally it dawned on me that the only light bulbs that were being unscrewed were the compact fluorescent ones. All the old incandescent ones were still in place. My only conclusion was that the house couldn’t stand the constant buzz.
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They’re trying to poison us, by breaking those ;)
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Touché!
Wait till the new “green” heating system cuts off when it’s 25 below, and the car’s computerized ignition system is dead. And so on.
Turns out it was just some punk Minnesota hacker trying to impress his government boss by harassing political opponents. There was nothing supernatural about it. The story ends with:
So we thought.
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Get better, Sarah. That is all.
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Best wishes and get well soon. Post the next chapter when you can, I’m still catching up my Sara Hoyt reading list.
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Sarah Hoyt.. My fingers betrayed me.
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Blessings on you Sarah, and may you have a speedy recovery.
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Yes, some of us get grumpy when folk die and forget to tell us too.
My Dad did this. Luckily the jump start worked and he is still with us but one never likes it when a loved one dies and forgets to tell us.
His was pneumonia related too. He had paracarditis that caused the heart to slow, which caused a build up of fluid in the lungs that caused the heart to slow . . . yeah. soon it was “Heart rate monitor dropped and when it reached 5 everything started to grey out. The next thing I heard was ‘Okay, I’m finally getting a pulse … Turn up the Oxygen more'”.
Get well soon
Sarah
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Eek! Glad your Dad is still with us after that. From what I read, they need to react really fast to save someone’s brain from oxygen deprivation – it’s not funny. Take care of things a bit sooner.
Please folk: also remember to keep an easily-found and regularly updated list of ‘people to notify off- and online if something happens to me.’
I only found out a dear friend died by accident. He had a wonderful memorial – which I was lucky enough to find out about in time – but there were many people who found out only from me, and too late.
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These days, with our lives online, you can have decades-long friendships with people you never met. I have six of those and a couple more where we met in flesh only once, but we’ve been there with each other through thick and thin for ten years. And I just realized my husband doesn’t have ANY of my logins, and anything he doesn’t also belong to, he wouldn’t know to tell. sigh. Making list.
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Neither an app user nor developer, I see a niche here: an “In Case of Death” app that sends notification of demise to all contacts. That assumes family member has access to the workings, of course, but that can probably be established when the app is installed.
Should it prioritize notifications according to frequency of contacts?
Less tongue in cheek, society needs to develop protocols for virtual relationships. Not long ago I noted an article on a family’s legal tussle with FaceBook over the page of their deceased child. For anybody with a significant virtual presence the bequestion* of that persona might carry significant value.
*Yes, it is a word, a portmanteau of bequest (The act of giving or leaving personal property by a will) and question ( a linguistic expression used to make a request) meaning to wonder who inherits what. You could look it up.
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I thought it was based on the combination of bequest and “sequestration” (dividing and holding back something in preperation of sharing it out). But I do terrible at Scrabble because I want to make up my own words.
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Oh yeah. My family has NO idea where to find my passwords, or how to decode which string of gobbledy-gook goes with what. Another thing to add to the list, if I can find where on the “desk-of-death” I put the list. My hand to Bog, my papers shuffled themselves while I was gone.
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Here’s a minor trauma to consider: self-renewing subscriptions. Trivial in amount, as a general rule, but they will add up. Cancel the credit cards, you say? Then what happens to the credits in my Audible account (for that matter, do my heirs get my audiobook files, downloaded and pending?) What about the books in your Kindle once that subscription lapses?
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Then there are people who need the “Delete all my porn” contact.
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D*mn. Makes list. Find some porn so people don’t think I lead a boring life.
Actually my issue is that there ARE things I want deleted or not released till redacted — mostly very early work. And I don’t think I can trust the guys to do it. BUT while I’m alive I want them there, because those early monstrosities have spawned some salable stuff now.
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Interesting point on the unpublished stuff. I’m of the opinion that some of the “unpublished” work that has been published after author’s death is ghoulish and inappropriate. I could put down my list of writings that should not have been published after the author’s death but I’m sure it would offend some.
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For Us The Living. And that’s the worst issue. My first novel was lent to friends to proofread, and they lent it to friends, who lent it to friends. At this point no one knows where it is. And OMG it’s as bad as that.
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John Ringo has said that his “Adventures of Arthur King” should not be published after his death. Oh, this “lost” story is “set” after the events of his Council Wars series.
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I still think he should publish it under a non-de plume and then sue the pen-name for infringement of universe and for terrible writing and being mean. In the end it would be so confused no-one will be able to figure out what the facts in the case are.
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Or come up with “delete this because the lawsuits from the characters will destroy the estate” stories. I’ve got a few of those. Not that I skewered any of the Huns or Hoydens, mind. Just people who deserve it (like, oh, apparently every tenured faculty member at Flat State U.) *tries to look innocent, fails*
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Except that here, a lot of people would be happy to appear in a story. Even if it wasn’t especially flattering.
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Are ye offerin?
It’s darned hard to keep coming up with names!
Think about it: it would solve so many problems with a character if the author could just say, ‘Character Wayne Blackburn in the book XYZ is based on Wayne Blackburn, the actual human who allowed his name to be used…(limitations: single book, or ‘books in the SSS series’, or…) and signed a waiver against ever requiring remuneration.’ Or ‘…for $1.’
This would prevent all kinds of ridiculous post-publication suits by people wanting to cash in on an author supposedly having modeled a character on them.
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Go for it. I’ll probably laugh my buttocks off. And that’s no mean feat, let me tell you.
I don’t know about any kind of legal ramifications, but I know that several people do this. Sometimes getting paid for the privilege. I recognized a lot of names in Sarah’s Darkship Thieves, for example.
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Humph! My favorite random name generator appears to have died. You might play around with this:
http://www.squid.org/rpg-random-generator
I frequently run up a list of a couple dozen names, and grab them as I need them.
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http://www.behindthename.com/ and http://surnames.behindthename.com/names/usage/english
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Thanks – I still like to have a hand in the process, think a moment about ethnicity, cultural background, and inherited genetic characteristics – which can be completely different. But it might keep me from names which would make REAL Finns snort.
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Part of the reason my husband married me was my ability to come up with names….
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Besides, it leads to interesting times, like the time a member of my gaming group added up 2 + 2 and grabbed a nearby copy of MHI, flipped it open to the right page, and thrust it at me. “Wait! You’re engaged to >Priest?”
“Well, yeah. He and Larry have known each other for years, moderating on the same gun forum, so Larry stuck him in his book.”
…yeah, when members of your gaming group fanboy at you, it’s definitely awkward, but makes for laughter afterward. Although there’s probably someone in the extended friends group who’s confused about why I moved to the Lower 48 and married a monster hunter, and what exactly a monster hunter is anyway.
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A most interesting time was going to my NBC Defense class and running into a sergeant there and comparing notes as to how John Ringo redshirted the both of us. (He got Last Centurion, I got Live Free or Die.)
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Stiff pin, large telephone book, and a strong hand. Flip the telephone book open, grab the pin and push it through as many pages as you can, look at the names it intercepts. Pick one from page x, another from page y. Go for it. Of course, after awhile, you need a new telephone book, which is why I save my old ones. Sometimes, though, you end up with something you can’t use, so you use different pages.
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This opens a question which I have had occasion to ponder: whether I would recognise myself in a character based on me (not that I think anybody would base a character on me.) I doubt that I would. I doubt most people would see themselves in a fictional character …
Ah!! Uplifted wallaby. Just wait till Dave and I do shark mafia in space! Res the Wallaby. Oh, what a scrappy fighter. Oh, what a witty punster.
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(Checking over shoulder) Nope, no tail. Paunch but no pouch.
The wallaby RES is a construct, bearing scant resemblance to meself. In mundane reality I am craven, sullen and petty*, making few puns nor displaying much wit. Thus proving my point that a character based on me would not be recognized by me. (Sigh – the things I will do to make an argument, the depths to which I will stoop. The knees and lower back which collapse me to the floor.)
*NOT a law firm … political consultants.
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Like Ngaio Marsh, who was reticent about her romantic life (if any) and hence is declared all sorts of -sexual. Personally, I think that she was just too busy, what with the theater productions, painting, and writing; but if she was getting busy romantically with someone she didn’t care to share with the world, that’d be her business not ours.
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More seriously, we have had several probate cases where the guy we hire to clean out houses where the family does not wish to do it themselves, has been instructed to make sure that any porn is found and disposed of before the family sees the personal possessions.
The other end of the spectrum is the estate sale – not one of our cases – where all the porn was put out on the sale tables with the furniture, knickknacks etc.
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Er… most of a deceased family member’s estate WAS porn, most of it rare and valuable, including movies. I wonder if the side of the family who actually disposed of stuff sold it or just dumped it. Mind you, Dan and I didn’t care so long as we didn’t have to sort it. We had to go through the house looking for a will, and that was bad enough, as the porn was in the same file cabinets as his papers (and in the kitchen cabinets. And the bathroom cabinets. And the mantel shelf, and…)
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It was important to us that the deceased’s mother didn’t see it. Judgment call I guess.
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Now I think about it, I think that’s why Dan and I were sent over. So his mother and father wouldn’t go.
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We advise this as part of estate planning these days. Email contacts, website forum memberships, etc.
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Password lists can be tricky — you need to have absolute trust in whoever you leave them with — but it’s a good idea to also make a list of all your most commonly-used passwords and put that piece of paper in the “Open in the event of my death” envelope as well.
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If you have a box of small valuables– or a gun safe where you keep the car’s title– put them there.
And be prepared to switch ’em first thing, starting with the emails, if your house is broken into.
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Or you can be like me and trust your faulty memory, just make sure all the sites give you at least three tries at getting your password right ;)
Actually I do what they all recommend you not do, I have only five passwords and use them multiple times. But I figure I can remember that many passwords, even if I fail to remember which one goes with which site, and if they are written down nowhere, then nobody can break in and find them. Of course in the event of my death nobody will be able to access anything, but then I’m not going to be around to be inconvienced by that. See even in death I can be a PITA :)
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Oh, yeah. A lot of us all over the world were just devastated when Neptunus Lex died, though we’d never met IRL. That was a couple of years ago, and I still can’t contemplate the Aviators’ Verse of the Navy Hymn without weeping a bit.
I am speaking of Captain Carroll LeFon, USN (ret.). He was a Christian gentleman from Virginia, a genuine beau sabreur ( he was All-American in Sabre his senior year at Annapolis), an instructor and second-in-command at TOPGUN, a hell of a fighter pilot, and a dutiful husband and father. Hell, he got off the Admiral career track to better look out for his family. He married a Portagee gal, whom he called The Hobbit. He wrote like an angel. And last but not least, he even put up with me.
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I remember that. I heard the news, put 2+2 together, and spent the rest of the day praying I was wrong. Lex was a real mensch in the best sense of the word.
I have the “new” website bookmarked, so I can read the saved posts. I still miss the discussions.
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Discussions, Hell! I miss the late-night drunken comment parties. I must try me some of that Barbancourt of which Virgil Xenophon is so fond. A really good late-night drunken comment party is hard to start on purpose. They just sorta happen. Ask Sabrina how my virtual persona became a cyborg some time.
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These days, with our lives online, you can have decades-long friendships with people you never met.
Know what you mean there. Heh, I’ve known Kaichi (he has commented here at times) online since the late 90’s iirc. We’ve yet to meet and we now live closer to each other than when we first “met”. and for a bit were both in DFW, but that is a bunch of space. He’s still close enough I really have little excuse for not meeting up for lunch sometime.
Logins.
yeah, I need to make a file like that for my strong box.
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Dad finally got it in his head he A: needed to quit smoking for real this time (and he did) & B: needed to take the pain pills when the para acted up which stopped the whole heart slowing down bit to start with.
The doc had cranked the oxygen so high nurses doing rounds were constantly calling her to double check. She finally put the note “Yes, I really really want it at this level, DO NOT lower it” both on the chart and a sticky note under the regulator.
A friend once did teh stoopid and committed suicide (on Christmas day, Still pisses me off) … his long time best friend went through his numbers and called everyone to notify them (and me), as his wife was not really in a shape to handle that.
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I hope you feel better soon!
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Hope you feel better soon and the meds work like magic.
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Glad you finally went to the doctor! I hope your recovery is fast and complete.
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Please take care of yourself! We can all wait.
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If you say so. ;)
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Give the good fan a chocolate! Better yet, I shall send her a copy of Noah’s Boy. Autographed…
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On account of my self-sacrificing (albeit collectively phrased) nobleness and all, I’m kind of hoping that I’m the good fan??
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LOL. I have more than one copy. email me snail mail addy at sahoyt at hotmail dot com. I shall sign it and everything. BTW, Synova, I can’t remember if I have your addy. (yes, I’m that with it.)
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You do realize you just opened yourself up to a flood of emails, don’t you?
On second thought, possibly you are figuring how much money you can sell five hundred addresses (both physical and e-mail) for to solicitors.
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I meant it for Laura M. ;)
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Wheee! I think I’m going to go buy a lottery ticket today.
Thanks, Sarah! I just sent you my snail mail address by email. As I mentioned in my email, I feel a little guilty, having counseled you to take it easy, but *autographed.*
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You ought to have it. (And really, I do want you to feel better, most of all!) I got the posters you sent in real frames and up on the wall and everything. :)
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That way she’ll kill me last.
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*Thinking* Hmm, does she mean she’s going to get red-shirted, or does she mean being volunteered to change the targets at HunCon’s Miss-the-Middle Shooting Contest?
Oh, yeah, and the bit is in the e-mail.
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Feel better soon!~
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Prayers, etc., on the way.
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When you get a little better you need to start exercising.
It helps with the stress, both in dissipating it, preventing it from building up, and in some ways innoculating you against it’s effects.
It boosts the immune system–especially if part of that exercise done outside, which can be as simple as walking as fast as possible for at least 30 minutes. Get some comfy walking shoes and go at it.
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I do exercise. I walk three miles a day.
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I apologize then–I was under the impression from previous posts that you did not.
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Um… no. If I don’t exercise I GAIN weight, regardless of what else I do. Unfortunately this year has featured two periods when I couldn’t, including this one — because it’s hard to walk when you can’t breathe. It’s really hard to judge that tipping point too “I’m now well enough to exercise” judged right can propel you right through to health. Judged wrong, and you’re back in bed. Fortunately, (eh!) I’m not even CLOSE to that yet.
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My weight is one of those inexplicable things. I haven’t exercised this week because, hard to do when you can’t breathe, but I normally do three miles a day (with son) or an hour on the eliptical. I try not to eat much and it’s low carb because of eczema issues. And I don’t snack.
I love it when books have people eating around the clock, so they can be “fat” and then, you know, they “eat sensibly” and voila, they’re petite. If only it were that easy. In my case, the weight seems to come and go on weird hormonal-induced waves. Sigh.
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You’ll notice that weight never entered into my comments–one can be remarkably healthy at a fairly body fat percentage if one is eating healthy food and exercising a lot. Aesthetics is irrelevant to function (I think 3 or 4 of my instructors from art school just had aneurisms).
Health is not being size X, it’s being able to pick heavy shit up off the ground and move it.
Hormones probably play a HUGE part in women’s weight gain, but again proper exercise can mitigate that. The problem is that once you leave the realm of a brisk walk it gets more expensive and requires a higher investment in will.
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Oh, and I should add, it is that simple for most people (re: eat sensibly), but easy ain’t simple. If weight loss is your only goal (and I don’t think for most people it’s a particularly valuable one, it’s just the easiest metric) eating a well balanced 1200 calorie a day diet is not complex, but it’s *hard*. You’re hungry *ALL* the time, and we’re wired to *hate* hungry.
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It can also bork up your system so you’ll never be able to not be hungry again without ballooning.
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And for the record, Dan lost 130 lbs in two years — but he had to eat more like 800 calories a day or less (yes, I know it’s supposed to be dangerous, but he had to) all low carb AND exercise three to four hours a day. Dave Freer told me there’s no such thing as “amount of calories you should eat” — every non human biologist knows it varies from individual to individual, even related. He said feed two lions from the same litter the same diet same conditions: one balloons, the other is gaunt. Both Dan and I (though for different reasons) seem to have been designed to survive famineTM.
I’m just puzzled at what I might have said to give the idea I never exercise… other than pictures of me at the con on FB. This reminds me of when a really skinny friend of mine gave me an exercise book for xmas. It was clearly “exercise routines for people who never move.” Twenty minutes, you know, gentle pushing against walls type of thing. At the time, I not only had two small kids who made me RUN constantly, but I was getting up two hours early to weight and aerobic exercise “definitely not for beginners.” When I told her that, her jaw dropped and she said “do you eat in your sleep? Because I’ve seen what you eat during the day and you can’t be exercising like that and not be skinny.” Head>desk. And no, I don’t eat in my sleep. For one, at that time, our food was rather tightly parceled out.
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You don’t talk about it. You’ve mentioned it a few times, as a relaxation thing.
Folks that obsess about either food or exercise for their weight control tend to think that those who don’t vocally obsess and aren’t skinny aren’t doing anything.
At the moment, I’m trying the “make sure to eat something in the morning, coffee doesn’t count” thing. Hopefully a diet shake “counts,” although I notice I get hungry for lunch a lot earlier… at least it keeps the calorie cutting from hurting my milk production, and the shake has enough calcium that I don’t have to choke down any milk.
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I have tea and a yoghurt in the morning. If I have ONLY a liquid I throw up. This is new and… interesting. :/
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” Dave Freer told me there’s no such thing as “amount of calories you should eat” — every non human biologist knows it varies from individual to individual,”
Yep, I have to eat at least 6000 a day at my most sedentary, and 8-10,000 in the winter and at my more active times just to maintain my weight. Oh, and at my most active I have to make sure I have plenty of fat in that, because I tend to lean towards a very lean, protein diet, even at 8-10,000 calories/day I’ll start to lose weight at my most active unless I up my fat intake.
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…..I could hate you. *sigh*
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I’ll joint you in this.
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No, it won’t.
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Yes, it can.
The folks that “prove” it can’t do so by telling the person who is hungry that they really aren’t. Less sadistic than the quacks that “prove” there’s no such thing as chronic pain, but not by much.
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Apparently what often happens is that diets or excessive fasting change the gut bug balance away from the “keep humans skinny as a rail” gut bugs and towards the “humans are starving, keep them fat” gut bugs. This is very kind of the gut bugs if there’s a succession of famines, but in modern first world life is very hard to deal with. And yes, women are more prone than men to get flipped over.
But there’s also the complication that excessive fat tends to turn one into a snoring mouth-breather at night, which tends to freak the system into retaining even more fat… and there are a lot of other vicious cycles along those lines.
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I started gaining weight after the pre-eclampsia, which both kept me in bed for six months and made me almost stop eating…
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I gained weight when my kidneys started to heal on high-dosages of prednisone/ chemo. I haven’t gotten the middle off (not sure if I can now).
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Hm. My family snores as a matter of course– it was so bad they took my tonsils out, but it didn’t fully stop it. Wonder if the same thing works there. (It’s got to be a design thing– all our babies snore, too, and my mom did when she was *tiny*.)
Come on, designer gut-bugs….
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And time. I was my smallest size (though not markedly healthy) when I was in college, but I walked and ran about 4h a day. I simply don’t have that kind of time now. Might be what my body is designed for, though. Of course, I also lived on coffee and the occasional bowl of popcorn.
The shocking thing is looking at family photos. the women my age all look about like me. Which is a bit distressing, given our different circumstances, diets, work, etc. Heredity uber alas seems to be a thing. OTOH hey they lived forever, even with continuous glitches and insufficient medical care.
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The shocking thing is looking at family photos. the women my age all look about like me.
Reminds me of some conversations I overheard as a kid… some of the vet guys pointing out that the various Asian wives they’d gotten were tiny and adorable up until about 35, when they suddenly turned solid. Didn’t matter when they had kids, what they were doing, it just happened. Same thing with the local Indians, but at about 30.
It’s probably more complicated, but I’d lay money that hormones are involved.
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Apparently they never had anybody tell them to look at their intendeds mother? I have had multiple older guys tell me with a grin and wink that they married their wife because she had a good looking mother.
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*giggle* Mom still tells folks she married dad in hopes he’d become granddad.
Me, I’m married to my husband and hoping he’ll become maternal-great-granddad, no offense to the other two I’ve met….
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I’m so going to take the fifth re: my FIL.
It’s working too ;)
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I have formed the impression, with no evidence to substantiate it, that you’ll stumble along in uneven health till you’re 100 or more: maybe considerably more, it the Church of the Singularity’s promised medical miracles take place.
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I’ve said it before — the grim reaper best talk fast and sweet (or meow) or he’s gonna get kicked in the nadders. Longevity through stubborn!
As for sick, I only notice or “mind” when it affects my mind, which this one did.
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>>If only it were that easy.<<
If only the "professionals" who claim they understand this stuff would pay attention to the actual research, and recognize that it's not that easy.
We've had solid scientific evidence that people can and do gain weight on very low calorie diets, if those diets were predominantly carbs, for more than 50 years, now.
Click to access 28131415-Kekwick-Pawan-1956-Lancet.pdf
And yet we've had the medical establishment ridiculing anyone who dared to advocate using this evidence in the treatment of obesity for just as long.
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Ok, but what about her case, where she is eating low carb?
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Seems to be mostly hormonal. Truly. I changed my hormone prescription and gained twenty pounds (one a day) which I’m still having trouble getting rid of. At least my doctor got “look, I can’t do this. I’ll be 400 pounds, yes it stops the crazy bleeding” (sorry, tmi) “but I can’t afford the side effect.
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Gah. At least the wife never had it that bad. MIL did, and finally had to have a hysterectomy (assuming that’s the kind of thing you’re talking about).
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Probably waaay off topic, but if anyone is interested in the effects of different hormone problems on weight and health over several years, go over to the Anarchangel’s blog and go through his archives. It’s clinically fascinating and kinda depressing at the same time. His underlying medical condition probably goes back to childhood, but over the past four years things really piled on.
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Hope you feel and breathe better soon.
I empathize with “crazy bleeding bad but hormone side effects worse” dilemma. Keep your iron levels up.
I came across a hormone diet by Jorge Cruise that suggests a weekly cycle of 2 days very low-carb followed by 5 days of some carbs. Haven’t tried it yet really but seems interesting.
(Back to lurking)
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Might have to try it, but the problem is my “some carbs” still need to be low or the eczema kicks up. I have a stoopid system.
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Didn’t eczema used to be called “skin asthma?” – it’s all connected *waves fingers mysteriously* ;)
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Eh. Probably. see, if I killed people more, I would be sick less. I shall now kill more characters. MWAHAHAHAHAH. Mayhem. Destruction. YES!
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Offer them for ransom. The one with the lowest total weregild payments gets it.
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Or you could start a bidding war the other way…
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She’s gonna make me pay big or else put me into a book and kill me off.
If you see a lycanthrope cat named after a Roman emperor in a book, don’t get attached to him. Because you’ll know I could not raise enough cash and he dies in a the next ten pages …
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Lycanthrope:
from lykos wolf + anthrōpos human
Merriam Webster
So a lycanthrope cat would be a hipster who turns into a wolf?
What if she gives us a lycanthrope Roman emperor named for a cat?
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You are just jealous because no one is scared of a Were-Wallaby.
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Of course nobody fears were-wallabies. We are cute, fuzzy cuddly beasts who know how to slip a shiv in so smoothly you won’t notice for days.
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The comments were getting a bit deeply threaded there – didn’t want to get lost.
Besides, I eat lo carb, too.
And took off a lot of weight last year by eating 800 calories of protein only a day – and no, you’re not hungry. Ketones produced from spare fat are both very good brain food, and keep you from feeling starved. But you MUST supplement with potassium and other things – or your heart may give out. And drink lots of water. It’s called a Protein Sparing Modified Fast – and should be doctor-supervised. But those are the same people who recommend gastric bypass surgery – far riskier, in my estimation.
PS If you want me to use your name for a character, contact me via my blog – there doesn’t seem to be a way to contact you from your name or image.
PPS Offer good for anyone who wants to lend a name.
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