Outside my bedroom window

have hatched two little birds. Cardinals, I think. They are bald, with just a bit of fuzz, and so ugly they're cute.

 Mama Bird seems to spend most of her day on shade duty - it's HOT here in Texas, and gruesome in the direct sun, particularly if you've just crawled out of a nice dark egg.

I swear, though, that these chicks' heads are almost as big as their eggs had been.

Mama Bird got bored with parasol duty and invited a girlfriend along to keep her company. It's so wonderful to have devoted friends!

Writer Aaron Allston needs your help

Science fiction writer Aaron Allston had a major heart attack recently. Like many of us, he had no health insurance. You can read his (very funny and touching) story here:

http://aaron-allston.livejournal.com/1221.html

I hope you can donate to help pay his medical bills.

Also, Fandom Association of Central Texas will be hosting a charity auction on July 19th to help him with his medical bills. (From a notice found on Nathan Bransford's Blog )

Homesick

Ah, Texas. It was 100 today and right now, at 10 pm, it is nearly 90 degrees and nearly 50% humidity. Tomorrow we expect to see 105 degrees at 40% to 50% humidity.

On days like this I sincerely miss California.

Of course, in California I enjoyed 112 degree days - but at 3% humidity. It makes a big difference. But California is more expensive in everything but property and sales taxes, where they more or less match Texas. I can't afford to live in California anymore.

Yesterday I found a California nature background for my iGoogle page, which has brought on this bout of homesickness. Everytime it brings up a new picture I say, 'I lived somewhere like that, and how I miss it.'

Now, it is very silly to miss a place I left six years ago. It was a good idea at the time even though it did not work out the way I had planned. I have a much nicer home, my family is next door and I still live out in the country.

But the landscape is flat and dull. Well, rolling and dull. Rows and rows of corn or wheat or cotton. The locals point at tall bushes and call them trees. Some even point to a stock pond and call it a lake. They look at a fifty foot slope and call it a mountain.

I miss towering pines and black walnuts, douglas firs and black oaks. I miss rushing rivers and foothills 3000 feet tall. I miss mountains that touch the clouds.

I miss California.