Apologies for the repeat. Day Job is in a bit of a crunch mode because the End of the Quarter is Nigh. Plus we’re all having to cover for those out ill.
Ah, beaver, the cute rodent property owners love to hate. Beaver are, as one author described them, “nature’s wetland engineers,” re-working the local hydrology to suit their own needs. In the process they can have some very long-term effects on the environment around and down stream of their chosen location. The Canadian River valley, although at the margins of beavers’ usual domain, showed the effects of their activities in several different ways. Continue reading
Elizabeth “Sisi” of Austria, wife (and first cousin) of Franz Josef, mother of Rudolph, most beautiful woman in Europe, and, well… People either love and romanticize her, or dislike her with varying intensity.
I was reminded of her while reading through Monalisa Foster’s blog:
The more I learn about her, the less I care for her and the more sympathy I have for Franz Josef. Which makes me a little odd, at least judging by the goodies in the shops in Vienna. Continue reading
Howdy, Instapundit readers! Thanks for visiting.
Federal Judges may not rule from beyond the grave. As the article on Foxnews.com puts it, “But the high court, vacating the decision of a federal appeals court, said Monday that “federal judges are appointed for life, not for eternity.” ‘
However, they can still vote in certain districts.
I’ve been a little tied up with Day Job, so a story from my flying days . . .
In the Oklahoma Hills
The morning started well then went splat, she thought, as the Seneca chugged along on autopilot. She woke up at four, hustled out to the airport and managed to get the plane out of its stall without dinging or breaking anything. Then she ran back to town for passenger snacks, picking up some for her people as well as for another pilot’s load. Except she hadn’t looked at the number of his passengers, and didn’t get enough. She offered him her donuts and pastries, but he said no, and told her to go back and get more for him. He’d take care of her people. As she charged out the door, headlights turned into the parking lot. Guess who? The ranking pilot sighed and said not to bother. She made a last “pit stop,” and emerged to find that he’d taken over, to the point of introducing her to “her” passengers. Which she could understand, because he knew them and went to church with two of the three. But it still stung. Continue reading
Tired. Illness at home + busy school = tired Alma
I’m just under 55K words on the fifth Shikari book. I’m starting revisions to Miners and Empire right now. I wrote it in 20 days and it shows, so I’m having to trim out some repeated passages and clarify a few things. That is one advantage to letting it sit fallow for three months – I can see where readers would get confused. Continue reading
The stones in the valley had to wait. Well, Rigi mused, since they had not moved in the last long while, they likely would not wander off under the cover of darkness. If they did, someone would have a great deal of explaining to do. When next she looked toward the stones in the little valley, a half-dozen leapers browsed around them. Rigi compared the sizes and decided that the stones likely stood three meters high, and were at least a meter across. Things of that size generally stayed put.
Instead she spent the rest of the morning, sketching, holding measuring tools, and contemplating making Tomás a set of over-trousers. Perhaps that might keep him from kneeling on things that stained. Or would he just find gloppier materials and stain through the over-trousers? Rigi did find the source of the water sound, and stayed well back after a quick sketch from several meters above and upwind of the spring. No water plants grew in or around the little pool, and what few plants had managed to begin growing close to the banks of the little rivulet that trickled from the pool seemed stunted, or dead. One, with large yellow thorns, throve. It looked nothing like any plant Rigi knew of, so she documented it but did not pick any leaves. If it grew that happily near the stream, it likely fought back. Continue reading
So, a group of eager anti-slavery activists attacked yet another Confederate statue, trying to melt it or (it was made of stone) heat and then crack it, bringing down another hated symbol of oppression and racism…
Pro-tip for protestors: Not everyone named Lee was related to Robert E.