I finished Heinlein's Between Planets last night. It was a good yarn, but it looks like he got tired of it about halfway through, and crammed the second half into two pages.
Woke up about 0230 local time from a flying dream. While still in the dream, I was wondering why I never see other people when I'm flying; only birds. Then on awakening the thought struck me that while I was flying, I was a bird, or rather, my spirit was hitching a ride in a bird's body.
Speaking of birds: I hit a sentinel quail in a mesquite tree today -- feathers went flying -- but so did it, and it got away. I also might have hit a cottontail and a dove, both of which got away. Bad day, evil for both hunter and hunted. But my second time out I did manage to kill a cottontail, and had its liver for breakfast. The rest of it ought to last me till Saturday morning, because my neighbor served up a second breakfast and is going to treat me to a mesquite-grilled steak later this afternoon.
I also want to gather some yucca petals and pickle them. It ought to be an interesting variation on sauerkraut.
last updated 2009-05-24 12:01:30. served from tektonic.jcomeau.com