Newsletter Sunday / Links 0066

MacroParentheticals on its way in +/-60, featuring a new GROUND LOOP response and a perhaps useful summation of the week from hell. We still have heat. These are some of the things I've read/listened to around the web this week:

You can sign up for MacroParentheticals here; the day awaits.

We have heat / Batwing assembly complete / I did not mean for that to rhyme / but here are pictures

Order of the day –the now-heated-though-lacking-in-hot-water (Monday, allegedly)-day – being reconcilation between two somewhat opposing avenues on AnotherFictionThing; copious (though as yet inconclusive) mindmapping thus ensues and, as my brain is currently in a "is this shit all worth it" fog, I will leave you light on text though heavy on imagery of the assembly process of the Lego Batwing which I finished yesteday while the heater guys were Robocop-ing the innards of our failed heating system into something far better, more improved, etc etc but it was all worth it because now we have heat via a thankfully bypassed chimney and now I’ll shut up so that you may feast your eyes upon the Batwing:

New MacroParentheticals tomorrow; the day awaits.

It is still fucking cold in here though it is not as fucking cold as it was yesterday which was very fucking cold

So we’ve got that going for us, which is nice.

Another multi-layered morning under the blankets, writing and typing and working upon a rather colorful Vera Bradley lapdesk, The Morkie next to me, space heater still running, the open oven turned back on and, while I’m all but certain we’ve melted an ice cap or two or three, it is nonetheless quite comfortable in this realm between blackout curtains.  T-minus +/- 60 minutes until the new furnace and water heather and chimney bipass installation begins. 

On my mind in this temporary exercise in frigidity: Furn the Furnance's death had been one of my greatest - if not the greatest – fears in this house (when I was a wee toddler, we had a furnace explode and hurl soot and ash through the entire house; one of my few childhood memories): how would we handle it, how would it go down, etc etc – and now that it's come to fruition (on the first wind chill advisory of the year), a palpable – though still cold - relief that it's done. It wasn't terrible – worrisome, yes, esp. when the first date to replace was Monday (moved up to today  thanks to the kindness of an understanding individual who switched appointments because they had heat and we didn't) – but we handled it.

Even more relief that that chimney will be bypassed and I won't have to wait for it to explode or pump the house full of carbon monoxide. Oxygen is nice. 

As far as The Work goes, while I managed to make some progress on the narrative flaws in AnotherFictionThing, I do miss my office. Writing under the blankets on the chaise with The Morkie isn't horrible – it's kinda nice to let loose the reigns a bit – though  it is, I'm finding, far too easy to slide into distractions and random flights of internet fancy/rabbit holes.

The day – along with heat and hot water – awaits.

It is very fucking cold in here

UPDATE/202201271440: new furnace and hot water apparatus to be installed tomorrow - instead of Monday - thanks to some kind person who agreed to switch appointments since we had no heat and they did. Nice to know there's some humanity still in this world.

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and since it would seem that actually doing The (long-term, big picture, small assignment, slow progress, bit by bit) Work isn't happening on this frigid morning of emergency heating services coordination – nothing quite like the rush of waking up to no heat and a broken ducting pipe on a -02ºF / windchill of -13ºF day – might as well try to type up something here (shortform blast of (what passes for) thought to kick off the day way too early and way too chilly), from under the blankets in the chair staring at Kirby chewing away happily on his chewie.

Yes, it is indeed very fucking cold in here though we’re not quite at breath-seeing levels but at least The Jorkie is warm under this pile of blankets next to me; the day – and whatever attendant repair costs it includes – awaits.

Kirby hears everything but

(Does he listen to everything? No, not particularly – unless it’s of some benefit to him.)

Given how he glanced up from his morning's chewies as soon as I tore a chicken-scratched sheet of useless brain meanderings from the legal pad – AND that I did this from the other side of the house (I do love having a security camera to monitor the dogchildren while I'm working) – I'm marvelling at Kirby's ability to hear everything (and more appreciative of how tortorous those 12 days of being coned must've been for him; the amplification, ugh – a gramophone attached to his head.

Spent most of the morning – so far –  in increasingly-futile efforts to fall in love with my Kaweco AL-Sport fountain pen: having used Lamys – notoriously wet and flowy – almost exclusively for the last couple of years, I'm having difficulty getting used to the dry scratchiness of the Kaweco's inkflow, nevermind that I can't figure how to hold it without twinging in pain after a paragraph or two. That said, the weight of the AL-Sport is perfect – though it's still not enough to push me over the line into love.

(Planning to write a whole thing on each of the pens in my rotation in Sunday's MacroParentheticals.)

I thought about writing something more here about something but what that something was has escaped me; the day awaits.

EarBliss0003

in

Flaw in logic figured out. Words imminent, probably erased later but hey it’s something; brilliant soundings from the last week:

GREEN & GREY (EXPANDED), by Julia Kent - while all of Kent's work has been a source of much joy over the last decade, this expanded re-release of one of my favorites has been on perpetual repeat the last week or so. Beautiful.

WAVES, by Tomonari Nozaki –  sublime antidote of warmth and light to the cold, dreary dark.

STRAW BELLE, by Grottoes - swirling over and through an infectious beat: no clue where it'll go next – which, of course, makes the ride even more irresistible.

TONGUES, by Tanya Tagaq – So very, very good: when Tagaq speaks, you listen.

DAWN (Cassingle #27) by Hualun (花伦) - Hooked. More please.

ZONES, DRONES, AND ATMOSPHERES, by Steve Roach – essential new collection of shimmering, enveloping moodwork.

Listen, enjoy; the day awaits.

well i tried logic

It is bitter fucking cold and I've reoriented my current thinking towards the application of my standard "well, I tried" home-repair response to everything as the best path forward. Noteworthy that nothing I've repaired has, thus far, broken again nor blown up - so I've got that going for me (which is nice). Hoping that this week is better than last but I'm not the most optimistic or faithful person so I'll content myself with taking things as they come as best I can. (Well, I tried.)

Return to MainFictionThing has, thus far this morning, yielded similar potentially fatal flaws in logic. Solution: consign all notions of events/happenings beyond the current one to the Fragments folder and build out from what I've already got. Forget the rest of it, focus on its "tonal frequency" of the present (as Zadie Smith would say) and let what comes come (see above / well I tried) / the day – and more shoveling – awaits.

Newsletter Sunday + Links 0065

Macro0065 inbound in +/-60 but first some linkage but before that, a random FAR CRY 6 vexation: while I know that they magically show up at my destination, that I’m forced to abandon my animal amigos whenever I climb into a vehicle makes me feel like a total dick.

Anyhow, a week in linkage:

Here we are now, entertain us; the day awaits.