"Hold it till the dark runs out." (56)
Another terrible night last night. So, I'm scattered, and massively under slept.
It was sunny today. Our high was 83˚F, with a heat index of 85˚F.
I tried this morning to start a story, but I got nowhere. I worked on Winifred a tiny bit.
This afternoon, two documentaries. First was Dave O'Leske's Dirtbag (2017), a look at the life of unconventional mountaineering great Fred Beckey (1923-2017). And the second was Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi's Meru (2015), chronicling the first ascent of the "Shark's Fin" route on Meru Peak in the Indian Himalayas. Yes, I'm very interested in rock and mountain climbing. It's one of my secret passions. Well, not anymore, I suppose. As a teenager fossil hunting in some genuinely dangerous quarries in this part of Alabama, I became a fairly skilled rock climber. The beds with the best crinoids or trilobites were often a couple hundred feet up sheer limestone walls. It was very simple free climbing, rarely using ropes. Though I did learn some rappelling exploring local caves. Then when I went to Boulder for college, someone in the Geology Department found out I had an interest in rock climbing and introduced me to Boulder Canyon, a steep-sided granite canyon west of town, through which flows Boulder Creek. And I did some climbs there and started actually leaning how to really free climb. Recently, looking back at some of the crags and routes I climbed, I was surprised as how hair raising it seems to the me of now. Suffice to say, I was far more daring in my early 20s than I am in my late 50s. Back then, I was skinny as hell and all muscle. Now I'm just skinny as hell. Anyway, after Boulder I never did any real climbing again.
Have I mentioned we're watching Super Store a third time? Well, we are. I really love that show, and I wish it had lasted a few more seasons (it lasted six).
Today was the 27th anniversary of the release of my favorite David Bowie album, 1. Outside. Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of the start of my (current) favorite sitcom, The Big Bang Theory.
Please have a look at the Big Cartel shop. Spooky just put up a very rare ARC of Daughter of Hounds, which was actually printed on far better paper than the book was. Go figure.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
7:27 a.m.
It was sunny today. Our high was 83˚F, with a heat index of 85˚F.
I tried this morning to start a story, but I got nowhere. I worked on Winifred a tiny bit.
This afternoon, two documentaries. First was Dave O'Leske's Dirtbag (2017), a look at the life of unconventional mountaineering great Fred Beckey (1923-2017). And the second was Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi's Meru (2015), chronicling the first ascent of the "Shark's Fin" route on Meru Peak in the Indian Himalayas. Yes, I'm very interested in rock and mountain climbing. It's one of my secret passions. Well, not anymore, I suppose. As a teenager fossil hunting in some genuinely dangerous quarries in this part of Alabama, I became a fairly skilled rock climber. The beds with the best crinoids or trilobites were often a couple hundred feet up sheer limestone walls. It was very simple free climbing, rarely using ropes. Though I did learn some rappelling exploring local caves. Then when I went to Boulder for college, someone in the Geology Department found out I had an interest in rock climbing and introduced me to Boulder Canyon, a steep-sided granite canyon west of town, through which flows Boulder Creek. And I did some climbs there and started actually leaning how to really free climb. Recently, looking back at some of the crags and routes I climbed, I was surprised as how hair raising it seems to the me of now. Suffice to say, I was far more daring in my early 20s than I am in my late 50s. Back then, I was skinny as hell and all muscle. Now I'm just skinny as hell. Anyway, after Boulder I never did any real climbing again.
Have I mentioned we're watching Super Store a third time? Well, we are. I really love that show, and I wish it had lasted a few more seasons (it lasted six).
Today was the 27th anniversary of the release of my favorite David Bowie album, 1. Outside. Yesterday was the 15th anniversary of the start of my (current) favorite sitcom, The Big Bang Theory.
Please have a look at the Big Cartel shop. Spooky just put up a very rare ARC of Daughter of Hounds, which was actually printed on far better paper than the book was. Go figure.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
7:27 a.m.