My favorite part was a long hallway with a glass ceiling. On top of the glass, lit from above, were thousands of overlapping glass pieces.
It was stunning.
|From misc 2|
I tried taking some pictures just now with the 512 MB card, and they showed up just fine on both the camera and computer, so it's a problem with the card, not the camera....right? Please tell me so. I'm paranoid.
|My favorite poem
I keep it on a card tucked into the corner of my dresser mirror.
What do you say to someone who accuses you of reading fantasy--indeed, fiction of any sort--to "escape" from reality? Someone who thinks reality and reality only is the stuff of life, and any foray into something not reality shows a 1) weakness of character or 2) lack of stomach to face the real world?
This hasn't happened recently, but every so often someone will make an offhand comment insinuating that because they only read non-fiction, they have a better handle on life than I do. I'd like to have some stock answers prepared besides the snotty ones that seem to slip out about how narrow the circle of their mind is, etc.
Imagination isn't evil, folks.
(This brought on by reading "Usher II", from Bradbury's Martian Chronicles.)
I took her across the street to the old Indian cemetary.
Little Sadie takes an outing.
Not much beats the feeling of a little bundle of warm fur.