( it's still Photographic Advent )
Gosh, I'm almost caught up from all the fallout from my horrible Sunday (then also Monday) flights. More on that, eventually.
Here's a notice in my hotel room. Most hotel rooms have something like this nowadays.
I like to imagine the group of technical writers who must have huddled around the computer discussing this paragraph:
"Well, we can't very well say, 'Throw them on the floor.' We'll have people tossing things around all willy-nilly."
"Oh, aye, but 'Placing them on the floor,' it just seems a bit froofy."
"Fine, just 'Leave them on the floor then.'"
(to go with a picture a day)
In addition to an unexpected night in Philly, I landed in Boston to find that my laptop stopped working. It's the same laptop that we wiped the hard drive a few weeks ago. It had seemed to be happy, but the happiness was not to last.
Sadly, you can't teach much coding without some equipment.
So I drove up to New Hampshire and bought a little baby laptop.
(a picture every day, if it kills me)
Didn't expect to take a picture in this particular city this month.
One night last summer, all the killers in my head assembled on a stage in Massachusetts to sing show tunes.
First non-fiction in a while. I think reading this must be what it's like to listen to me when I'm in manic overly-detailed-factlets mode. In other words, it was a fun!
(Continuing a photo-a-day)
I used to think of SMF and Reno as small airports. Now that I have a new home airport, I have an updated definition for small.
San Luis Obispo airport has two airlines - USAir and United -- and two gates. That's it. There's no little train to ride. The restaurant is on the other corner of the parking lot from the terminal.
I expect it's going to be a pretty small airplane on the first leg to Phoenix.
...a picture a day...
Apparently, I'm missing a great snow storm back up in Nevada City. Keep warm, folks.
Down here, it's not so cold as all that, but it has been dropping into the 30s, and I didn't bring my winter clothes. In fact, I have a small subset of my clothing and so I have to visit places like this:
I'm not sure the last time I had to do laundry in public. And this place reminds me why it's worth it to buy a washer/dryer: there was a man with an electric guitar and amp plugged in wailing away in the corner. He wasn't any good, of course, but the thing is more that the place was so small. So the rest of us huddled in the farthest corner and fought over the wheelie-baskets.
Continuing to post a picture a day for December.
One of the important things for a person who wants to re-establish his diet _and_ is moving to a new town is to audition restaurants for Cheat Day. "Cheat Day" is the day of the week reserved for gluttony -- eat sensibly the rest of the week, and on Friday, eat whatever you want. After a bit of time sticking to that regimen, the amount you can pack away even on Cheat Day starts to diminish. I've been waaaaaay off the diet for six months and now that I have a stove, I can start to think about getting back on the horse. (Of course, upcoming travel will completely screw that up, so we're not really serious until after I finish eating the cookie dough on my birthday next month.)
In Nevada City, my Cheat Day haunt was the North Ridge on Nevada Street. It was about a mile walk, which also helped add to my weekly walking goal, and I liked the little personal pizzas (and lately, the Jersey salad -- how can you beat a salad with French fries on it?)
Cayucos doesn't have a lot of restaurants. So far, I'm really leaning toward the restaurant guarded by these fine gentlemen:
The great thing about this place is that there's dining on an open upper deck with a plexiglas screen between the tables and the ocean. I like sitting at the bench table and watching the waves. The food is standard pub fare, but the waitstaff is very nice.
(I think my new mobile phone's camera is nearly as good as my old beater SLR, for shots I don't want to zoom on. I forget to turn it landscape, though. Of course, that seems to fit well into the way I've formatted the middle column of my blog, so maybe it's OK.)
Continuing to post a picture every day (for December Photographic Advent).
I'm staying in Morro Bay while I start the settlement process for a house in Cayucos. (My offer was accepted! Well, I accepted the counter-offer. Hopefully, this place won't be riddled with termites.)
At any rate, the town of Morro Bay is pretty much dominated by this giant old rock that defines the bay.
Continuing to post a picture a day for December Photographic Advent.
I'm staying in a vacation rental. It's very nice. I like it a lot, except for one thing.
They're building a house next door.
In other exciting news, I cooked my own meal for the first time in three months last night. I made eggplant parmesan, and it was delicious, thank you very much.
For some of us, exceeding our quota means a bonus.
I guess for others it just means you can sit down for a moment.
To be titled, "Farewell, Cayucos." Yesterday, I checked out of this motel and moved into a vacation rental. This keeps me a little stable until January. Since I just put yet another offer on a house, I hope it's enough of a bridge.
Of course, I start off the month boldly proclaiming my intention to put up a picture-a-day, and on day 2, I fall behind.
I _DID_ take a picture today, but when I started to download it tonight, my camera battery died. I'm going to bed while it recharges. I'll get it up here tomorrow.
It wasn't very exciting, but a project is a project.
Ista leaned forward between the crenellations atop the gate tower, the stone gritty beneath her pale hands, and watched in numb exhaustion as the final mourning party cleared the castle gate below.
Well, I went ahead and read the sequel.
It's December. Time for another attempt (it's been a few years since I've tried) at photographic advent -- take a picture every day.
This was Nevada City this morning from the bridge at Sacramento Street.
I drove up to Nevada City yesterday to pick up the cat, and tonight we're safely back in Cayucos. It has been a few weeks since I sold the house behind the Outside Inn and I still haven't found a new place to live. Tomorrow, we move into a vacation rental for a month and hope that the third house I've put an offer on is more successful than the first two.
It was odd to see new furnishings in my old house. The new owners were extremely kind and watched Tubby while I had to go on a work trip immediately after settlement and then drove down here to try and make temporary arrangements, at least. I hope he didn't bully their two cats too much.
Cazaril heard the mounted horsemen on the road before he saw them.
This was my first fantasy Bujold. I really enjoy the SF series, but this one didn't do much for me.
November 2013 It wasn't dark, and it wasn't light. It wasn't anything except cold.
Ha. I read this in November 2013.
It was about eleven o'clock in the morning, mid October, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills.
This book was so like the movie that I kept asking myself if had read it before. But then the book would describe the pornography going on or mention a gay character and I knew it was different.
Also, there's a lot of rain in here. Did it used to rain more often in California?
Here's the titular line:
What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. Oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell.
Near Sacramento, California.
Lane, Strike, Turkey. All kinds of puns available.
This is another in the continuing series of wee toaty explorers, a project to keep me busy while I'm on the road. A nice summary is here. The whole set is available if you click on Wee Toaty Explorers.
This was a Golden Age, a time of high adventure, rich living, and hard dying...but nobody thought so.
This is one of those classics of science fiction that I never got around to reading. It's worth tracking this book down, though if you've read The Count of Monte Cristo, you'll have already read this, too.
On a fine warm evening in late summer, over a hundred years ago, a boy might have been seen leading a donkey across Southwark Bridge in the city of London.
This is a part of a series of YA books that I had never heard of before. It was written in the '60s and takes place in an alternate England, where the Hanovers didn't take over. It never got bogged down.
Well, I had this great idea.
On Labor Day, I drove the entire length of California Route 20, east to west, stopping every twenty miles or so to take pictures. I took a lot of pictures.
I came home and I thought I'd make it more interesting. I wouldn't just show pictures from every stop; I'd write a short story around each set. And I did one for mile zero.
I dilly-dallied a bit. I was starting to write a post for the 20ish-mile-marker, where the dead baby lives, but I hadn't quite gotten it all done.
Then my computer crashed. I had a back up of most everything (anyone who started following this blog from its beginning 10 years ago, would be horrified if I hadn't been storing my code in a version control system). My code was safe. My music was safe. A few ancillary record-keeping files and documents about moving were safe.
But something was not right with my backup of pictures. Every picture I've taken with my camera since 2010 is gone. (I have a few pictures taken with my iPhone, but nothing all that interesting).
Gone: All the lakes. All the wee toaty explorers. All the Frankenstein-a-days. And all the 20 on 20 pics.
I'm glad I have a version of all the wee toaty explorers on the blog, but they are all smaller versions than the original files, and there were more angles I kept on hand in case some day I'd like to do something with them.
20 on 20, my shortest series ever.