Sniffle crunch sigh

[mrissa]

I do not have a cold.

Convenient, isn't it? Not having a cold. I shall continue for the foreseeable future, not having a cold. Not, not, not, not. No colds here! Would not dream of having a cold! (I wouldn't, actually. My dreams last night seem to have been written by L. Frank Baum, which is its own kind of disturbing but not, you perceive, like a cold in very many ways.)

Sigh. Well, I guess I can keep snarfing cranberries a few days longer. (Cranberries are very scary to germs, you know.)

Also my shoulder is crunchy. I shrug my right shoulder, and it shrugs. I shrug my left shoulder, and it sounds like an elderly car changing gears. It's time for me to go back to the man who sounds like alecaustin or one of his cohorts to get it fixed up again. The shoulder is clearly healing. It's just not healed.

I'm waiting for a call that says my parents' closing went through and they own a house in Apple Valley. The closing was set for 45 minutes ago. I've never actually done one in person, despite our owning this house: we signed the papers remotely and had people here to do it for us, because markgritter wasn't going to be able to be here anyway (he was still working in California when timprov and I had CJ help us drive back -- timprov was still able to drive then, as he may be again someday), so we had to pay a notary in California and FedEx the papers and so on. So I'm not sure how long this should take, if everything is going well.

I finished up the short story revisions earlier, and now I'm poking The Mark of the Sea Serpent and hoping for the best. The notecard that says, "How do they find out about the sneaky dead?" is still staring up at me. I can't put the sneaky dead in with the niflnissen. I can't put it in with Ull and his ring. (I have avoided making Ull look like a California surfer Norse god. This may come with the price of some unintended Buddha associations. I am told that one can't have everything, and when one is trying to send a large blond god over the sea on a piece of bone, this is certainly true, regardless of its general applicability.) I hope the sneaky dead aren't going to be sneaky with me. I'm not one of the Aesir; I don't deserve it.

Comments

[wilfulcait.livejournal.com]

Perhaps a passing bat could rat out the sneaky dead.

Closings can take a while -- it depends on whether everyone has their act together and has had a chance to read all the papers. Our last one, I told the lawyers to send me the papers in advance because I was going to insist on reading them, and they could either send them to me in advance, or sit there and wait. Of course, they didn't send them. That particular closing took a couple of hours.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

It is awfully cold for bats, in a setting where Iceland is the farthest south they reach in this book. Alas.

[cadithial.livejournal.com]

It took me a little over 2 hours to do my closing. Most of that time was spent in singing 8 billion copies of paperwork.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

That is a fabulous typo.

[cadithial.livejournal.com]

Wow, that is a good typo. No one would want to hear me sing an actual song without accompaniment much less trying to sing all of the paperwork that needed signatures.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

"The party of the first paaaaaart...."

[fmsv.livejournal.com]

(Cue Isaac Asimov story...)

[pameladean]

When we bought our house, the closing was scheduled for one p.m., and Lydy felt that she could move in by four. But she couldn't, because the closing was not finished and there were no keys yet. And our sellers were sensible and well-behaved. The previous sellers weren't, and in addition the closer spelled our name wrong three times despite having it right there on the check to look at. (I'm sure that you have heard this story before.) This was also the closer who failed to deposit the first month's mortgage in the proper place, setting off a round of "Your April payment is late!" "Here's the cancelled check!" "No no, we mean that your March payment is late!" "Here's the cancelled check!" with the mortgage company when they finally noticed.

Most closers are better than that. But still.

P.

[rysmiel.livejournal.com]

hope the sneaky dead aren't going to be sneaky with me. I'm not one of the Aesir; I don't deserve it.

Consider how you as writer of their story stand in relation to them; is it not at least a little Fate-like ?

[stillsostrange.livejournal.com]

I first read 'sneaky dead' as 'snarky dead'. Are they snarky at all?

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Actually I hadn't heard that story before. Oh dear.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Even the Norns are not the same thing as the Aesir.

My friend Mike has an aunt called Norny, but I don't think she's much into textile arts, which is probably just as well.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

So far they are Sir Not Appearing In This Book, but I suspect they may start snarking next book.