SEARCH Travels With LD

Thursday, January 17, 2008 - Bottomless Lakes State Park, Roswell NM

Dawn at McDonald Observatory, from the trail above Davis Mountains State Park, Fort Davis, Texas, January 13, 2008
Dawn at McDonald Observatory, from the trail above Davis Mountains State Park, Fort Davis, Texas, January 13, 2008

Baby it's cold outside

At least it warms up fast in this southern sun. By nine am the sun is beating in through my big windows strong enough I can turn the heat off. It may be chilly outside in the shade but in the sun it feels nice and warm and toasty.

I can see I'm going to need to make some home improvements if I'm to be comfortable in these wintry conditions. Or bite the budget bullet and move to Arizona for a month or so.

Arrrgggg what a slow connection

To the internet that is. Too slow in fact to load big websites like West Marine and Apple. Or even Google Adsense to check on my ad revenues. For some reason these sites won't load on a slow connection. But least the connection is sort of useable. Unlike the constant drop-outs I had at Brantley Lake State Park. I can do some basic maintenance here at

Now I've done it

In my haste to reorganize my backup drive to free up some space on the iBook hard drive I went and erased the wrong partition - wiping out my older photo archives. All of them. I don't keep them on the Mac iBook anymore - they take up precious space I need for new stuff. I think I backed them all up on an older drive I have back home. I sure hope so. If not they are gone for good. Be careful out there boys and girls - it's easy to push the wrong button.

That new Apple Time Capsule is looking mighty good at the moment. So is the new laptop for that matter. Drool.

Today's journey: None, I stayed put.

Night camp

Bottomless Lakes State Park, Roswell NM


I remember walking in art galleries, through the nineteenth century: the obsession they had then with harems. Dozens of paintings of harems, fat women lolling on divans,turbans on their heads, or velvet caps, being fanned with peacock tails, a eunich in the background standing guard. Studies of sedentary flesh, painted by men who'd never been there. These pictures were supposed to be erotic, and I thought they were, at the time; but I see now what they were really about. They were paintings about suspended animation; about waiting, about objects not in use. They were paintings about boredom.

The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood