Going Fishing

Sorry, I’m not going to put a post up.  Yes, two excuse posts in a row are bad.

But I woke up in the morning, half asleep, reached for my thyroid meds and the water, took a swallow and… didn’t.  As best I can tell my throat was swollen shut.

Still feels very sore (though I took the tablets.)

It’s entirely possible it’s stress and auto-immune as yesterday’s work day was short-circuited by family news. (That’s not great either.)

If you guys want (and if I still feel ill) I’ll put up promo post and possibly (if I actually can get someone to help me with the physical part of it) my paper book stuff.

For now I’m going to drink warm liquids, and possibly sleep.

70 thoughts on “Going Fishing

  1. Take care of yourself. If you need to split, make like an atom and split.
    We’ll manage.

    Tacks rad-warning sign to door, then adds another sign: GONE FISSION.

    1. That’s what the aardvark laid the lead in for. Don’t forget to use it.

      The sea serpent in the minion pool gets annoyed if you don’t.

  2. Enjoy warm beverages (without or without fortification, according to whim and contents of liquor cabinet), cuddle cats and spouse, spend the day resting and doing silly pointless things. Put stuff up tomorrow, if you are feeling better.

    Don’t pay us no never mind, we weren’t about to get into a thing, not one single thing.

    Nothing to see here, go back to snuggling.

    Unless, that is, you haven’t completed your Chanukka preparations!

      1. A Reformed Jewish friend and her father put up a Chanukka Bush, decorated in blue, white, and silver with little menorahs and gelt and dreidels and so on. Confused the heck out of the neighbors. 🙂

          1. To be fair, grandma always made doughnuts (alas, no carbs. Maybe I’ll send doughnuts to the IDF?) and we did have a (silver, filigree — yes, we were ladida. next?) Dreidel.

        1. I have no clue where the menorah is. And no, we’re not Jews (um… we could claim and revert, but we’re not.) But celebrating light in the dark is something that should be done and the task of all of us.
          And besides, my faith is a mess.
          So, yes, we have a menorah and used to confuse our neighbors. We just haven’t found it since Robert tripped on it two years ago, almost breaking his leg.

          1. Gosh, who could relate to this?

            Just living in the miracle
            Candles are my vehicle
            Eight nights gonna shine invincible
            No longer be divisible
            Born through the struggle
            Keep on moving through all this hustle
            Head up, head down
            Through all of the bustle
            New York City wanna flex your muscle
            Look so down, look so puzzled
            Huddle ’round your fire
            Through all the rubble

            Bound to stumble and fall
            But my strength comes not from man at all
            Bound to stumble and fall
            But my strength comes not from man at all

            Do you believe in miracles
            Am I hearing you? Am I seeing you?
            Oh, eight nights and eight lights
            And these fights keep me right
            Come bless me to the highest
            Heights with your miracles

            Against all odds trod on ’til tomorrow
            Wipe away your tears and your sorrow
            Sunrise in the sky like a an arrow
            No need to worry, no need to cry
            Light up your mind, no longer be blind
            Him who searches will find
            Leave your problems behind
            You will shine like a fire in the sky
            What’s the reason we’re alive

            Yes, I randomly sing this song.

            1. I see it as foreshadowing a later absolution. Through no fault of theirs the Hebrews had failed to meet His commandment to keep that light burning, so He did ein bisschen mitzvah to preclude their lapse, in recognition of their desire to honor Him.

          2. Life is messy; one can infer that even a mustard seed could be messy so living faith probably has to be kind of messy, as treasure in clay pots at least would be.

        1. My family is genetically Jewish, as far as we can determine, at least on the maternal side (the paternal was always odd.) Mom’s side converted in the 11th century for land and benes. Dad’s one side converted on the 18th (very late) and one side (grandma’s) converted back and forth because they’re the insane storytellers.
          We got the dreidel from mom’s side (probably silversmiths, or at least we’re still cousins with a lot of precious metal people, who knows how far back.) Also we bought alheiras from ONE place (flour and chicken designed to look like pork sausage. Very useful) which used the shield of David in its metal seal (on the sausage.)
          The religion Iearned from grandma was a little mixed up, as one would expect. I didn’t realize how much till I started spending time with friends and realizing it was different.
          I had no clue what to do about it, so we celebrate Chanuka and Passover and Christmas and Easter.
          With Robert it was always a matter of the religion of whomever he married (future DIL is Catholic.)
          I’m not even sure if Marshall believes at all. He’s a very private person.

          1. Dang, you’ve got it good!

            I’m still trying to figure out what my ancestral religion is. Years back, I told the Catholic then wife to be that I’m from the religion that doesn’t do fish sticks on Friday, or any other day. (Other than tuna salad sandwiches and the very occasional salad with shrimp, I cannot stand sea or river food. Oh, wait, add a good New England clam chowder to my permitted foods.)

            1. ” (Other than tuna salad sandwiches and the very occasional salad with shrimp, I cannot stand sea or river food. Oh, wait, add a good New England clam chowder to my permitted foods.)”

              Oh wow. Can I relate. Raised Episcopalian*, which then, was defined as more Catholic than Catholics, except for fish on Friday. But, my folks, when I was in college, late ’70s, started line commercial fishing. Just one little boat off of Oregon Coast. This was also when you could still sport fish (with appropriate non-commercial single reel gear), between open season & commercial season starting. Just before I went to work one summer family went out & boat limited out (3 fish per person fishing), pretty sure it was because I was heavily chumming the waters (legally can’t fine you for … uhhh, you know). Anyway, since folks usually stocked my meat until my first summer paycheck (job was remote), mom handed me three very large Pacific Salmon, I didn’t get paid that summer (timing) for 6 weeks … I got so tired of salmon it took me another 20 years before I would eat it, let alone cook it, I still won’t order it. I do cook it now, occasionally, but its been almost 45 years now.

              Uhhh, I won’t touch clam chowder. You’d understand if you’d ever had grandpa’s clam chowder … my husband called it scalded milk with canned chopped clams… Never have been able to make the move to the “good version.”

              *Well that is when it wasn’t Fishing (trout), Fishing (Stealhead), Fishing (Salmon, before they started commercial), Hunting (Deer), Hunting (Elk), seasons … Pretty sure I didn’t have commercial store bought meat until I left home …

            2. Oh, I spent some hours online some years back after I got an email from a very polite… well, Jews don’t evangelize, but they do ask you if you’d like to know the faith of your ancestors. I’d put my full name and place of birth somewhere, someone went searching…
              Anyway, they’d missed paternal grandma only her I figured out myself on line (And she’d told me we were Jews. Eh.)
              Anyway, it was a few hours basically looking into what they said. Seems to be true. makes sense of lots of thing in the past. All in all doesn’t change anything, though.

    1. I wouldn’t do that myself. Dan would only disturb Sarah’s sleep by asking who that dude is sitting in the middle of their floor, surrounded by a pile of books, and reading.

      I said yesterday to take your time, Sarah, not to get sick! But now DEFINITELY take your time, however much needed until you are really back with us.

  3. *hugs* Sleep well, get better!

    I put up a 10,000 foot view post on writing guns at Mad Genius Club. I think the mob is happily engaged over there. (Also, I made the… decision, not a mistake… of asking a friend about the history of the term assault rifle. I forgot that he studies the development of weapons technology as a passion. Right now we’re deep in the rapid arms race and explosion of technologies between 1860-1910’s.

    Huh. Smokeless powder was as big an arms secret in its day as nuclear weapon technology was a few wars later… there’s a story there…

    1. More like 1840s-1910s. 🙂

      The development of the Minie ball and the Lorentz compression bullet didn’t change everything, but they started a revolution that people today don’t fully understand. The rifle of the late 19th century was like the airplane of the 20th century – very high-tech equipment, with the technology advancing so fast that a design only had a lifespan of 15 years or so.

      1. Lorentz compression bullet … traveling at 0.9c or so? Cool…
        Oh, wait, I think you meant Lorenz compression. Dang.

        1. OK, you got me. A friend is writing the definitive history of the System Lorenz arms in American Civil War service…and it looks like that will wind up being the definitive history of the whole system in English. He’s been to the Military Museum in Vienna…and they took him into the back rooms where they have the arms not on public display.

    2. There’d been various types of “smokeless” powder since the early 1800s. Most of it was either hygroscopic, unstable across temperature changes, or just too violent for the uncertain metallurgy of the day. There were some German powders that more or less worked, but it was Paul Vielle’s powder that all modern powder is descended from.

      The advantage wasn’t so much that is was “smokeless”, as that it freed militaries from the bottleneck of available natural nitrates. The shortage was so acute few warships sailed with full magazines, and even infantry felt the pinch. Vielle’s powder could be made up by the railcar-load, and it was cheaper than black powder too.

      The French government held the key patent for modern smokeless powder. The British Admiralty didn’t want to be restrained by that and started making unlicensed powder, which then turned into an international patent fight that came *this* close to turning into an outright military conflict.

      1. If you want a fun alternate-history / steampunk take on this exact issue, Dave Freer’s Cuttlefish is an awesome read.

  4. No excuses required. Take as long as you need. It would be nice if you could keep us posted, but if we simply don’t hear from you we will worry, but understand (though those who are more personal friends of Our Hostess might drop in from time to time and reassure us; hint).

  5. If you guys want (and if I still feel ill) I’ll put up promo post and …

    I suspect what pretty much everyone here wants is for you to feel better. So take care of yourself, and if the place smells like smoke tomorrow it’s because of your meds, not because we burned it down (accident! really!) and then rebuilt it exactly like it was.

  6. I actually did take the kids fishing yesterday (city fishing clinic for 5-15 year olds, equipment provided.) They enjoyed it a lot, though my daughter is unenthusiastic about actually eating the trout. (I love you very much dear; I had to CLEAN the damn things. Now taste it.)

    1. Doctor’s nurses & PAs tend to react at that phrase, as I learned. I’m not certain what the exact phrase was that I used—-I think I emphasized it was an adjective condition, not a transitive condition: not, it’s not swelling, my spouse’s throat is swollen I think is how I finally put it.

  7. Sleep the sleep of the just (or perhaps just the sleep of healing). Rest, recover, revivify. Lay your troubles, doubts, and problems aside for a time. Worry not for this little corner of the digital world. Be at peace, and return when you can.

    After all, as the man said, if you you don’t have your health…

    *resists the temptation to complete movie quotes by thiiiiiiiis much*

  8. I have long thought you don’t need to post to keep us entertained, we seem to be good at that.

    It seems your posts keep us from burning down the place, by making us start somewhere before we go off on our odd tangents.

    Sarah Hoyt, herding Huns since $YEAR_BLOG_STARTED, because herding cats is just too damn easy.

  9. Hoopla has an Italian adaptation of Nero Wolfe. It is pretty good, albeit the premise is odd. (Nero Wolfe moved away from New York, to an almost identical house in Rome. With Archie and Fritz and the orchids.)

    1. Well, actually it is an Italian version of Fritz…. Anyway, the point is that you can download it from your library, and it is fun. Obviously somebody really liked the A & E adaptations, though.

  10. Happy thoughts, get well soon, and do what you need to do to get well. Sadly we can’t get you a new, factory original body and they don’t seem to make your make of parts anymore…but, still looking.

    (Looking for Mom and Dad and sister, too-don’t need the whole hog, but new shoulders and spine and ears for Dad, new lungs and throat for Mom, and a new GI tract for sister would be nice for Christmas. Will even watch YouTube on how to install them properly…)

    And, on a personal note-

    I’m in spitting distance (and the last big dance number) of finishing my first novel. Tentative title is Solist At Large and once finished I will post the book in the Slush Pile on Baen Books. Fingers crossed…

    1. The guy who used to own the Orlando Magic went to London for lungs—-no kidding. They like to do heart and lung to make it simpler.

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