The past month was ... interesting.  First I brought home the new kitten, Starbuck.  He's a honey, but used to having playmates.  Now he's driving my older cats crazy with his attempts to play with them.  Mostly, they hide.  If I'm trying to concnetrate on anything, he's all over it, including a pile of broken glass from a print I knocked over.  ("Oh, shiny!  I wonder if it's good to eat.")

Then both my laptops went into the shop simultaneously for repairs.

Then I totaled my SUV  That wasn't really my fault, cold comfort.  It was rush hour at dusk. I was on my way to the next town to pick up one of my laptops when a car came charging out of a grocery store exit, clipped another car flipping it over on its side, and stopped short sideways, blocking the lane I was in.  I didn't see it until I was nearly on top of it.  While I did try to break, it was too late.  Luckily, I don't think anyone was hurt.  The police drove me home and my beloved 2017 Forester was towed to a repair shop, where it was declared a total wreck.  Damn.  I meant to drive that vehicle for the rest of my life.  I'm going today to drop off my rental car and to pick to up a 2025 Forester.  No more accidents, knock on wood.

With all of this going on, I haven't been writing.  Soon I'll have to ask my publisher for another extension and hope that she's merciful.

Star was just gnawing on the corner of my laptop, then fell out of the chair flat on his back.  I've noticed this before:  young rag dolls don't seem to know that cats are supposed to land on their feet.