Kage Baker used to wryly paraphrase that old saw about the weather into Don’t like the world? Invent a new one.

Easier said than done, unless you were her. Kage could not only do it – sometimes on a moment’s notice, as we rolled down some road – she could both people and inhabit it by sheer force of will. A few minutes of thought, a soliloquy or two about some weird founder or eldritch folk custom, and she’d be off. Within a few miles I’d either be yelling for her to stop (because it was simply too weird and gave me the heebie-jeebies) or she’d be making notes for a new story. Sometimes both.

Today, the world did not please me much. Too hot, too smoggy, the sky over the basin not only greyed out with left over fog but regularly violated by noisy Navy helicoptors. I’m glad the President likes to come here, but I live under a main helicopter route, and it gets to be a drag when they fly over making the windows shake and the dogs howl for the 6th time in a day.

The news is full of political hatred, lies and rage; people I care about keep dying. That serves to remind me about all the people I don’t even know who are also doubtless kicking the old jam jar (as Kage liked to phrase it) and that is just depressing. I’ve been spiking another annoying FOO – especially wretched in hot weather, I might add – and been dealing with shortness of breath, swollen feet and aching kidneys. With bad grace and no patience, I must confess, so even I can’t stand to be around me.

The parrot has been fractious, singing in his monster voice and telling raucous unintelligible jokes to The Thing Behind The Chair. The corgi wants to rub his enormous hot flannelly ears on my knees. The little black cat has metamorphosed into a fur rug and taken over the center of my bed. I can’t seem to locate any heroism or grandeur anywhere.

I’m too tired and cranky to even read. I just can’t find a world I want to inhabit …

But I am getting a post in before midnight, even if is is basically a cranky bitch-fest. I’ll turn on the overhead fan soon and go to bed, and try to grow some discipline overnight. Then I can maybe write some world I like better.

It was always Kage’s solution.