What can I say?
Dreams so strange last night that they're unrelatable. Probably owing to the fuckwitted cat which kept poking at me and mewing plaintively every few hours. He may need to be relocated to a soundproof location on an unnamed island in the Sound...
Just started reading David Mitchell's second novel, Number 9 Dream, which came before Cloud Atlas. Number 9 Dream seems, even in the first couple of chapters, looser, less disciplined than Cloud Atlas. More self-indulgent. But still enjoyable. I'll have to see how it develops.
More chicken drama and herding this morning. Merely by our presence, we seem to inspire one hen in particular to levitate over her enclosure's bit of fencing, causing consternation and disarry while we attempt to get her back into the yard. But dang, they do produce delicious, surrealistically yellow-yolked eggs which make a trippy egg salad. Maybe Freckles will survive to continue her production.
Just started reading David Mitchell's second novel, Number 9 Dream, which came before Cloud Atlas. Number 9 Dream seems, even in the first couple of chapters, looser, less disciplined than Cloud Atlas. More self-indulgent. But still enjoyable. I'll have to see how it develops.
More chicken drama and herding this morning. Merely by our presence, we seem to inspire one hen in particular to levitate over her enclosure's bit of fencing, causing consternation and disarry while we attempt to get her back into the yard. But dang, they do produce delicious, surrealistically yellow-yolked eggs which make a trippy egg salad. Maybe Freckles will survive to continue her production.
posted by isabelita at 7:18 PM
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