Perseids!!

I don't normally wish to live out in the middle of nowhere, far from the madding crowd, etc., but last night, trying to watch the Perseids, I had a distinct impulse to get farther away from the glow of streetlights. Ah well, I'm sure it will fade with August, like it usually does.

We did manage to see a few meteors, and some of them looked insanely large and bright, but it would have been nice to not have anything to do last night, so I could have gotten out of the city.

Tonight would be a good night too, except I'm going to see Lacuna Coil and Type O Negative with Robin and Joyce, and I expect that after the show, I won't be in much of a mood to do anything that involves keeping my eyes open.

Perseids!!

I don't normally wish to live out in the middle of nowhere, far from the madding crowd, etc., but last night, trying to watch the Perseids, I had a distinct impulse to get farther away from the glow of streetlights. Ah well, I'm sure it will fade with August, like it usually does.

We did manage to see a few meteors, and some of them looked insanely large and bright, but it would have been nice to not have anything to do last night, so I could have gotten out of the city.

Tonight would be a good night too, except I'm going to see Lacuna Coil and Type O Negative with Robin and Joyce, and I expect that after the show, I won't be in much of a mood to do anything that involves keeping my eyes open.

How I spent my morning:

William Blake's "Tyger", in words of four letters or less:

Big cat, big cat, who is on fire
In the wood in dark so dire
What hand or eye that will not die
Did make the form we fear to spy?

In what far off sea or sky
Did burn the fire of your eye?
What wing bore him up to sol?
With what hand dare he take the coal?

And what wide back, what art, what goal?
Did form the thew that held your soul?
And when thy soul did move in thee
What hand or foot made this to be?

What did beat, and what did bind?
In what oven was thy mind?
What held thy form, and what dire hold
Did grip that fear and make so bold?

And when each star did toss his dart
And wept as if the sky did part
Did he grin, his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Big cat, big cat, who is on fire
In the wood in dark so dire
What hand or eye that will not die
Did make the form we fear to spy?

How I spent my morning:

William Blake's "Tyger", in words of four letters or less:

Big cat, big cat, who is on fire
In the wood in dark so dire
What hand or eye that will not die
Did make the form we fear to spy?

In what far off sea or sky
Did burn the fire of your eye?
What wing bore him up to sol?
With what hand dare he take the coal?

And what wide back, what art, what goal?
Did form the thew that held your soul?
And when thy soul did move in thee
What hand or foot made this to be?

What did beat, and what did bind?
In what oven was thy mind?
What held thy form, and what dire hold
Did grip that fear and make so bold?

And when each star did toss his dart
And wept as if the sky did part
Did he grin, his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Big cat, big cat, who is on fire
In the wood in dark so dire
What hand or eye that will not die
Did make the form we fear to spy?