Just like the time a hundred years or so ago, I’m watching something odd on TV and posting while I wait for a lift to the airport. I did decide on the airport shuttle, and talked to a very nice man earlier in the evening to give him directions. Though the train looks to be making up for lost time, I just couldn’t see hauling around a suitcase weighing 48 pounds, a laptop bag weighing 25, and a third bag.
Some interesting topics to write on, but I’m too tired to do them justice. There’s the EFF ‘bloggers rights’ campaign; Doc Searls new Linux Journal article, Saving the Net: How to Keep the Carriers from Flushing the Net Down the Tubes; a comment Halley Suitt made about the recent Corante conference (”…but what’s really going to be interesting now is watching all of us come up with very creative BUSINESS MODELS and advertising and monetization models for our media…”). I also wanted to thank Sour Duck for including me in the Third Carnival of the Feminists.
Instead of providing deep and reasoned, or unreasoning comments, I thought I’d provide one last look at Sandpoint.
These are my mom’s two dogs:
Amy, whose bark could wake the dead two counties over:
alt=”amy” width=”500″ height=”333″
And Crissy, who is the sweetest little angel during the day, but turns into a growling, biting (or gumming) terror at night:
alt=”crissy” width=”500″ height=”333″
A few last looks from the Long Bridge and the City Beach:
alt=”Train from Beach” width=”500″ height=”305″
alt=”Train, Bridge, and Beach” width=”500″ height=”333″
alt=”ducks” width=”500″ height=”341″
Before anyone asks, the birds are Norwegian white geese. I think.
The tunnel underneath the train has light cement walls, perfect for graffiti. Nothing new here. What was interesting is that someone had grabbed a felt tip marker and annotated the other people’s work. For some reason, it reminded me of every editor I’ve ever known.
64130031_d8281c02df.jpg” alt=”The CopyEditor” width=”500″ height=”322″
Though there has been many good moments, this has not been a fun trip and I’m about as tired as a human can be. Right now the drive for home is so strong that I think I could spread my wings and fly south. Once I walk through the door at home, though, life will be good. As long as my TiBook can survive the trip home.
64130033_610e1a6a96.jpg” alt=”From Behind a Tree” width=”500″ height=”321″