"You broke another mirror."
A miserable rainy day. Our high was 43F. We've had a wind advisory since last night.
I set my alarm for 3 a.m. and got up and was productive. Work is what makes our lives worth the paper they're printed on. Sleep is for the dead. I did something I owed Beth Gwinn for [a book]. I spent two hours on th ectopterygoid for MP 2.0, and I still don't have anything like a section of finished text. I read. Eventaully, the sun rose and ended that awful darkness. Well, the sun sorta rose. Sorta. Maybe I should say the fog grew a lighter shade of pale.
I wrote an old acquaintance, a former mentor now in retirement. Drew and I are describing a gorgeous turtle skull said mentor collected from the chalk back in 1976, and I had some questions, if he can recall. This will be another new taxon.
I did a little work on the Bashi Marl. Just a smidge. Tiny snails and tiny clams and tiny fish teeth.
I went outside in the misery long enough to take the photo below.
I should mention here that the internet has made a fucking coward of me. It took a long time, but it has happened.
Oh, and the state of Alabama has left the American Association of Libraries. Make of that what you will.
Anyway, last night some idiot painting the apartment upstairs poured a bucket of paint into the kitchen sink (where do they find these jackasses), and it immediately flowed down into our pipes and up into the sinks, half filling them...and getting into the dishwasher, as well. And then the maintenance guy refused to come until Monday, because he didn't think it sounded very serious. So...we are without a kitchen. Until, I guess, Monday.
Lepidosauromorph ectopterygoids do not make me angry. This makes them superior to human beings in every way.
Please visit the Dreaming Squid Sundries shop. Thanks.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:03 p.m.
I set my alarm for 3 a.m. and got up and was productive. Work is what makes our lives worth the paper they're printed on. Sleep is for the dead. I did something I owed Beth Gwinn for [a book]. I spent two hours on th ectopterygoid for MP 2.0, and I still don't have anything like a section of finished text. I read. Eventaully, the sun rose and ended that awful darkness. Well, the sun sorta rose. Sorta. Maybe I should say the fog grew a lighter shade of pale.
I wrote an old acquaintance, a former mentor now in retirement. Drew and I are describing a gorgeous turtle skull said mentor collected from the chalk back in 1976, and I had some questions, if he can recall. This will be another new taxon.
I did a little work on the Bashi Marl. Just a smidge. Tiny snails and tiny clams and tiny fish teeth.
I went outside in the misery long enough to take the photo below.
I should mention here that the internet has made a fucking coward of me. It took a long time, but it has happened.
Oh, and the state of Alabama has left the American Association of Libraries. Make of that what you will.
Anyway, last night some idiot painting the apartment upstairs poured a bucket of paint into the kitchen sink (where do they find these jackasses), and it immediately flowed down into our pipes and up into the sinks, half filling them...and getting into the dishwasher, as well. And then the maintenance guy refused to come until Monday, because he didn't think it sounded very serious. So...we are without a kitchen. Until, I guess, Monday.
Lepidosauromorph ectopterygoids do not make me angry. This makes them superior to human beings in every way.
Please visit the Dreaming Squid Sundries shop. Thanks.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
3:03 p.m.