House-henge contortions

Air temperature 53 F, slight northeast breeze, partly cloudy. This morning's moon has reached an awkward angle where I have to crouch down, squeeze up against the glass, and snatch a glimpse just below the top of the back stair window. Or go outside . . .

(no subject)

When the C-17s come low over our house, I keep having this urge to run out into the yard with a pair of those orange wands and wave them toward the airfield . . .

"It's over *there*, dammit!"

Red in tooth and claw

Came out of our foraging at the local supermarket to find a scattering of gull feathers. We suspect an eagle was paralleling our efforts.