oops. Pretend there's a second 's' there, please.


Scribbled out 4 reviews yesterday, sent off a couple to Cosmos on the off chance they'll sell there, and worked a first pass on a short article for Odyssey, as I got an email at 5pm asking if I could get it done by 11/30 (and, of course, if they decide not to use it, there's no kill fee until I've done 3 works for them.... Sheesh, the arrogance. But I NEED the work.)

Selling reviews is getting harder and harder--and not for any good reason. Magazines are cutting pages, so-called pundits are saying no one wants to read reviews, when from my side of the reader fence, the problem is that so many places have been running bad, dumb, or plain clueless plot-summary reviews that Of Course your survey will show no one wants to read the reviews in your magazine....

Also sent off a couple of pitches to Smithsonian. Still no word from Air & Space on pitches out there.

But, even this tiny progress feels like progress, so that's good.

Also, urchin and I bashed out 6 geocaches this morning in a tight search pattern in Henrietta this morning. We could have done at least 4 more easily but at the last place, urchin had to go down the playground slide, whereupon he discovered it was heavily wet with leftover rain from yesterday. I guess I can understand the not wanting to run around outside in 40 degree weather with a wet butt.

Brain has at least been turned toward thoughts of Glenkillian, if not actively pushing hand to write words there. Another 2 reviews need to be done today/tomorrow, the Odyssey piece needs to be nailed down, and I have to try and come up with an educational short short about blood for the editor to look at, since she asked. Oh course, when you ask an SF/fantasy writer to write about blood, you're not going to get a "normal" story suitable for 8-14 year olds. Normal, normal, normal. Think "normal". After all, at 0.25/word, it's a reasonable market for fiction. Crappy for nonfic, but for fiction, not so bad.

reviews done so far:

* a _very_ long-on-the-pile review of Pearl North's Libyrinth for SF Site.
* A fairly dull horror/urban fantasy/mystery thingee for PW. Rules say I can't tell you the title here, but trust me, you're not missing anything.

Next -- How to Defeat Your Own Clone, a really, really fun pop sci read on genetics and biotechnology (and cloning and stuff) for whomever I can sell it to.

But I only have 45 min to write it, since urchin's bus is due at 3:30.

That is all.

Third day in a row to wake at around 4am with an achy, concrete-filled head. I think while the anti-biotic may have knocked down the bacteria inside all that congestion, it has not helped reduce the congestion. Oddly, the wicked 4am congestion appearance coincides with the addition of a humidifier to the bedroom, which was _supposed_ to reduce congestion. Ah well.

A handful of acetominephin, a 1/2 a guafenisine tab, several cups of tea, a bunch of saline spray, and being vertical for the last few hours have helped immensely. Congestion still there, but at least now I don't feel like cutting the top 1/2 of my head off to stop the pain.

Okay, it's 9 am. Time to get back to work. For real.

It's time for a day of finishing reviews. I have a stack of notes, and a list of books to review. Time to get them out of the way. The only wrinkle with this is that I volunteer in urchin's class on Thursday am till 9am, then I have to do the stupid gym thing, then I promised to poke my head in at the Book Fair and help urchin pick out some books. He's saved up about $25 bucks but his wish list totals to about $50, so it will be some serious winnowing. Mostly I'll be encouraging him to cut it down to books he wants to reread a lot, and can't easily get at the library. It shouldn't be hard.

We've also got to come up with some extracurricular studies for him to work on. This year is very much devoted to making certain all the kids in 3rd grade will pass the No Child Gets Ahead test in the spring. There isn't a school out there that doesn't need the federal funding, and I completely understand why the focus is this way, but I know how boring this kind of classroom situation can get (oh, boy, do I know!) so I'm trying to work out some independent study-style projects with urchin. Gifted education--not so much in these times. There's no formal program here until middle school, and even then a fair amount of it seems to consist of sticking the kid in a class with the next grade level kids (which, to be sure, is better than being stuck and bored to death in a regular classroom!).

We're talking about doing an independent study (sort of ) project. Urchin says he wants to learn more about reptiles. I've got a big list of possible sub-topics. I need to organize them, and make sure there's a good mix of math & science and writing and imaginative stuff as well. It's a challenge, but I think we can pull it off. I would very much like to steer him toward some self-directed stuff, so that in future he can leap into something like this on his own, but that will probably take a while. I don't think I started writing stories/books and seriously reading to learn and teach myself things until I was 12 or so.

I am still looking for hands-on stuff to catch his imagination. He has bursts of Lego-inspiration, but isn't really a 'builder'. If I were rich, I'd get Lego Mindstorm because I know _I_ would play with it, even if he didn't get thrilled by it. As it is, I'm thinking along musical lines. He likes playing piano & singing, so it would be interesting to see if he might take to writing his own music. Somewhere around I have a blank book for music; I think it's in my trumpet case.

I'm very nervous about giving him too much and turning his interest off. Very much taking cues based on what he's interested in. At least I think I've managed to save up the $150 for the next session of piano lessons this winter through the local community center. His teacher is really pleased with his progress, and if I've comped it correctly against the other neighborhood kids, I think he's actually ahead of several of the kids who've been taking lessons for a year or two longer than he has.

Of course there's a world of enrichment classes out there--theater would be a favorite with him, I'm sure--but right now it's just not possible.

Note to selves--email the teacher at school who does the "project challenge" classes--these once-a-week (or so) "pull-out" programs are what we have in place of actual gifted programming (and I'm grateful, because they sure didn't exist when I was in school!)--for some suggestions.

I've decided it's "Marge Piercy Monday". She wrote this poem, which I found while cleaning off my desk.

Happy Monday, especially to the creators and builders.

Because we are our own worst critics.


For the Young Who Want To

Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
you have is a tedious
delusion, a hobby like knitting.

Work is what you have done
after the play is produced
and the audience claps.
Before that friends keep asking
when you are planning to go
out and get a job.

Genius is what they know you
had after the third volume
of remarkable poems. Earlier
they accuse you of withdrawing,
ask why you don't have a baby,
call you a bum.

The reason people want M.F.A.'s,
take workshops with fancy names
when all you can really
learn is a few techniques,
typing instructions and some-
body else's mannerisms

is that every artist lacks
a license to hang on the wall
like your optician, your vet,
proving you may be a clumsy sadist
whose filings fall into the stew
but you're certified a dentist.

The real writer is one
who really writes. Talent
is an invention like phlogiston
after the fact of fire.
Work is its own cure. You have to
like it better than being loved.

Well, it was a Saturday. And it did feel weird to not do any official work today, because I usually work on _something_ for a few hours on Saturdays...

Got 2 more geocaches by 8 am this morning. Hurrah. The antibiotic, though expensive ($10 for the course, though that's only 5 days) seem to be working nicely. Sinus headaches are much less severe.

Took urchin to the George Eastman House, someplace I've always wanted to go, but never been before (we had a coupon for $2 off admissions). George's house is very much like something you'd see in Newport, at about 1/20 scale. Very nice.

Today was the first Saturday of the Gingerbread House exhibit at George's house. Community orgs and local businesses, etc, make gingerbread houses and they're displayed and (later--in a month I think) auctioned off for charity. I think the money goes to a local Foodbank this year.

I'm usually nonplussed by gingerbread, but these were all really fresh and smelled _so_ good. Some were generic, and some were really clever. There was much modeling with fondant. One had a pretty good replica of all the creatures from "Where the Wild Things Are". Another was a big stack of gingerbread cookies sort of like a vine-covered tree trunk, covered with cavorting chimps. One was mostly covered in assorted chocolate (urchin said this one smelled the best of all).

I'm glad we saw them early, while they're all still fragrant.

We're supposed to go hiking & geocaching a bit tomorrow; I suspect urchin's really in it for the fish-feeding (Powder Mill park has a trout hatchery) and lunch (I also have coupons for $$ off burgers at Bill Grey's, a local burger & fries chain). Spouse is still sick with the will-draining cold. Maybe, maybe, he'll budge out of the house on Monday and seek a doctor's appointment, but then again, he's getting better, so why bother spending the co-pay when you don't have to?

It's late. I've spent far too much time looking at cache listings online. Maybe tonight I will sleep (after waking up at 1:30am last night and lying awake until sometime after 4am...)

Actual words turned in this week: about 220

Words pounded out, cut, rewritten, edited again, rewritten, and cut up a third time (well, it's Not 'priceless'): maybe 2000.

Must get rid of cold and focus. Spending far too much time thinking about "when was the last time I took cold meds," and food-I-don't-have-access-to-but-would-love-to-eat. Must think of shorter term for that phrase. Acronym will not do (FIDHATBWLTE?? No way. Maybe shorten it to FIDHAT? Yeah, we'll go with that.)

cheers and sneezes from the house of Boring Food-

Acute Sinusitus!

I don't know, having it be "acute" just makes it sound extra-special. The antibiotic regime starts tomorrow. Better lay in some yogurt.

Still, it's not _really_ a good excuse for getting so little done this week. It's not a broken bone, or the flu. I have no excuse. I am a slug.

OTOH, time to send Bright off to a fresh market. Got a personal bounce from ASF (dunno, is this a pretty common reply these days? Have they done away with the annoying old "your story did not rise above the other ____ (fill in the blank) stories we received this month" form?

And reviewing Ralan's, it seems as if most everyone worth submitting to is closed for subs til the new year or longer. But wait, there's one. My old bete noir, RoF. Let's see if I can get another yellow half-sheet form rejection from there for my collection!

or it could just be another New Cold come to fill the briefly empty place of the Previous Cold. We seem to be caught in a chain of them.

Right now I don't know whether to give up trying to work and take a nap, or load up on a new round of meds, make more tea, and keep trying to work. And the fact that my brain is immersed in concrete is not making the decision any simpler.

blaaargh.

to the usual putting-off-the-review fun & games.

I should really know better. If I could just sit down FIRST THING and focus and write it, it would be done and over with instead up still on the desk beside me in scraps of paper.

On the other hand, I've rearranged my bookmarks to clarify those sites which are good sources for science "news" and teasers, and I've walked the dog twice, and I've had about 3.5 cups of tea and a handful of Combos cheese thingees and now I'm thinking of lunch....

It figures. I really am hungry.

To eat in front of the computer or not? tis the new question.

I'm trying to get my desk organized (again), a thing I do every month or so when I start to go crazy.

Putting together pitches for:
Boys Life, Cosmos, Ad Astra, Astronomy, Air & Space, and Popular Science.

Short science pieces, now that I'm mostly done cleaning up the back issues of Nature that have been accumulating for the past couple of months.

We got our first issue of The Economist last Thursday, too. We're dumping US News, since it's gone monthly and pretty much jettisoned any efforts toward providing actual news in favor of random blogs and "special" issues that rate things I'm not much interested in. (And The Economist offered me a really great starter deal; we'll see if I can afford to continue when the rate goes up in February.....)

Cold is still hanging on. I can't tell how far through it I am, only that I feel like crap when the drugs run out every 4 hrs or so.

No geocaching this weekend. I'm planning to sneak out for a couple tomorrow at lunch, if I can manage the time around somehow getting to the Y as well. There are a few caches in that vicinity. We'll see.

And as far as getting fiction written....well, it doesn't pay any bills so for now it's pretty much on the back burner. Again. I know, I'm pathetic. I should just set an hr a day when nothing else is allowed to interrupt. Nothing.

I can do this.

Sure, I can.

Spouse and I have both caught urchin's cold; fortunately urchin is apparently on the other side of the worst bits (which we parental units still have to look forward to). So a good bit of today has been spent sleeping, splitting time with spouse.

Have been reviewing my financial records the past few days, with depressing results. I've done plenty of work, but not been paid yet for it. Magazines have low cash flow, and many are doing as much as possible in-house, rather than hiring freelancers. Everyone's cut pay rates. I'm owed at least $2500, and hearing back very, very slowly (sometimes not at all) on pitches everywhere.

Wonder if the B&N up the street is accepting applications....

Go out and VOTE tomorrow.

Flashback to 1972--

In 5th grade I had a pair of red, white and blue vertically striped pants with the word VOTE printed on the stripes in some sort of regular pattern. I miss those pants.

Of course, I also miss my old Peter Max print sweatshirt, which would probably be worth a fortune to someone on Ebay somewhere, but I wore it to shreds.





Groove on, people. Vote.


--and peace.

Halloween has been and gone. We luckily missed the local rains (just to the west in Greece; they must've blown NW along the lake), ended up with an evening in the 50s with a nearly clear sky feathered with tendrils of cirrus and a moon so close to full it didn't matter. I think we did 37 houses, and urchin counted his loot and found 103 pieces of sugary goodness (and two small packs of pretzels--the guy who handed them out was apologetic about it; clearly his Other Half had insisted on "healthy snacks", but as urchin is perfectly happy to eat pretzels (especially when washed down with a fun-sized Nestle's Crunch bar from the next house), this was no problem.

Urchin's specter outfit morphed into a mad scientist; people kept guessing he was supposed to be Einstein, probably because the ratty old wig (from one of my costumes, long, long ago) was white and black polyester batting, so it looked like dark hair streaked with grey.

Someone smashed a beer bottle in the street (a parent handed the biggest broken piece to spouse (who was on candy duty) and asked him to throw it away), but so far as I can tell, everyone's pumpkins survived nicely--which is a bit surprising considering that we are two blocks from the high school and half the trick-or-treaters we saw last night seemed to be middle school and high school students. Honestly, boys, wearing borrowed sportscoats and carrying a boom box playing Jonas Bros. is not really a costume. My third grade neighbor was far more put together as Slash from Guitar Hero.

There were also two cars (pricey SUVS) from who-knows-where trolling the neighborhood so their not-from-around-here kids could hit all the houses. Good grief, who knew candy was so rare in the privileged burbs?

Anyway, that was last night. This morning in the extra hour I bashed out for a couple of caches, but scored 0/2. With a foot of leaves over everything, finding stuff on/near the ground has become 10x as difficult.

Now I need to get some work done. No out-standing reviews, so time to focus on pitches and putting together a couple of "on-spec" pieces.

Excelsior!

Cabin fever and the itch to walk in the misty rain and swirling leaves sent me out after a cache set near old Erie Canal Lock #62. This is now a tiny, narrow strip of park hidden in nearly plain sight up behind the Weggie's in Pittsford. You would never know it was there unless you just happened to notice the half-hidden sign way in the back of the parking lot where the path goes up over the hill.

The lock itself now appears very much like older stone railroad overpasses you seldom see these days, except longer. The channels are no more than 10-12 feet wide, and the path alongside must've been for Sal, though these days it's a trundle route for bikes, hikers and dog-walkers.

The discovery reminded me, once again, that learning history in school is boring because it has no stories, only names and events. I never liked reading history (other than history of science) books until I was at least 18 or 19. But...I grew up on the bonefields of the Battle of Newtown and used to hunt for arrowheads in the fields after spring plowing or a heavy rain. The commemorative sign is in my folk's yard ("Brigades of Poor and Clinton passed here in attempt to gain enemy's rear, Battle of Newtown, August 29, 1779"), right next to the garage. Never paid much attention to it. Then.

I'm in a much better position to appreciate all those old forts my dad dragged us to when I was a kid: Erie, Niagara, William Henry, a few others up that way (Canadian side) I can't name right now, (and many changed hands, and names, several times), then down to Ft Crown Point, Ticonderoga, and Mt Defiance, which conveniently overlooks Ticonderoga. American strategists had pooh-poohed any idea of fortifying Mt. Defiance. The British commander, Gen. Burgoyne, when asked how the *&#$*@& they were supposed to get cannon into position to bear on Ft. Ticonderoga, is reported to have said: "Where a goat can go, a man can go, and where a man can go, he can take his guns." It's a steep hill. Really steep.

Weird Ticonderoga fact #1: actually, it turned out the sightlines on Ticonderoga from Mt Defiance weren't all that good. But the Americans didn't know this and panicked when they found out Burgoyne's boys were dragging cannon up on July 4th, 1777; they surrendered abandoned the fort and the Brits got it without firing a shot. A few months later, in September, the Americans actually tried the same thing themselves to regain Ticonderoga, then discovered the truth. The British held Ticonderoga for the rest of the Revolutionary War.

Weird Ticonderoga fact #2: the cannon used to convince the British to finally leave Boston on March 17, 1776 ("Evacuation Day"--this is why practically everything (except the bars) closes in Boston on St. Patrick's Day) came from Ticonderoga. The Brits wouldn't trade anything to American colonists that they might use to fight back--whether guns, or the metal and equipment needed to work it. So a colonel named Henry Knox (who began life as a bookseller in Boston) marched his guys more than 300 miles to Ft Ticonderoga (possessed once or twice by the British, who'd left their cannons in place when they surrendered).

Knox's guys brought the cannon back, on barges, then on sleds pulled by oxen. 300 miles. In the winter. Up and down the Green Mtns, pretty much along what is today called "Rt 2" (imagine the Hairpin!). Must've been a big surprise for the British.

My dad was a Revolutionary War buff, but I'm more interested in what happened after things settled down, and towns and businesses grew. Drive through Elmira, NY today and (where they haven't been bulldozed to make way for "urban renewal") you can see the fine old Civil War and Victorian-era houses, many practically decaying on their foundations, a general complaint of any small city in the Rust Belt these days. Rochester, larger and wealthier, has managed to avoid some of that, but even here beautiful old neighborhoods crumble in many places.

As a student here, and coming from rural territories, I didn't actually appreciate what a neighborhood was: how small neighborhoods are, and how unique, even now, they remain. Geocaching is giving me a chance to explore places--tiny old cemeteries (some with graves from the 1790s), bits of the canal, parks like Highland --and gorgeous Mt. Hope Cemetery!--from Olmstead's hand.

Things happened here--well, they happened everywhere. Everywhere, there are stories. And this is only a tiny part of the US, of North America, of the world.

Chap 3 of Glenkillian (at least, the latest draft of it) is done, finally, after a session of seriously GMAIC. Which brings me around again to the problem that send me back to re-writing it in the first place: figuring out what the next scene is. I've managed to briefly flip the power levels of the main characters, and I really need to get my crackpot scientists introduced and rolling, but now Brain is quibbling about who the POV char should be, Dev or El. Of course, the preceding 3 chapters are all Dev's POV, which sets a certain expectation that the next will be also, but Brain1 & Brain2 are waffling. I've written starts to the next chapter in both POVs and still, they waffle.

I will probably stay with Dev, because El's backstory should be revealed little-by-little and doesn't really need to be told via her pov. It always comes down to characters and motivations in my stuff, which possibly explains why most everything I've finished is, at heart, a revenge story with main char(s) who have the power of life and death over others. I'm a bossy writer that way (most would say just plain bossy at everything). Delusions of tortured granduer all over the place. Good thing I can safely hide it behind other personalities, right?

Dev's motivations: um, well, survival would have to top that list. He's a loner (didn't see that one coming, did you?) who has pretty much trained himself to put head over heart. He's a man with the reputation of a passionless killer who's never killed, and in fact done everything he can to avoid it. He could be a good man, but has never tried. Never seen the pay-off in it. He keeps his head down, does what he needs to survive, and has found no little comfort in that way of life, working for a man who's the biggest crime lord in a busy post-Enlightenment, just-becoming industrialized, city.

But that's all changed now, in the best noir tradition, because of a woman. Who's actually, um, not exactly a human woman.

El's motivations: she wants to live a normal life. She does not want to be any of the things that she currently is, from a token to be married off to satisfy some family/business (they are frequently the same thing in Glenkillian) alliance, to a half-breed monster to be exorcised and destroyed, hated by both real monsters and human ones. She wants to control her own destiny. To choose her life, her own spouse or lovers, without the fact of her family history, her tainted blood, looming over her.

Yeah, yeah. All pretty generic so far. And the crackpots/visser are still not developed as much as I'd like. Which is really no excuse not to charge forward like I've done before. Because the first draft just has to be written, it doesn't have to actually make complete sense. Much.

written so far: one.five book reviews.

bought: two new bras at an astounding price; but that's what it takes to get something that actually fits.

As spouse says, "I'm ever so glad I'm a guy. La-la."

Lunch--not yet. Nothing in the house appeals. As usual. But I am starving.

Dog--still not walked. Spouse is "taking a break" playing computer games. May have been doing this since I left for the library at 9:45am, for all I know. Spouse said (30 min ago) he would walk dog in a few minutes, when he "finished up".

Guess I will go take the long-suffering dog for a walk now. Then I'll be REALLY hungry and willing to eat something from the scraps in the fridge.


Then I will write more stupid book reviews.

Argggh. Happy Monday

Yes, it's not much, but it's a goal and I got to it and it only took me two months. 25 geocaches found, that is. So hurray, me.

Today I got 4. First was this morning along the canal with Roo, one I really should have found the very first time, but what can I say, I'm slow. Today I get to put a smiley beside it in my list. This is extra important to me, because it's the one that's closest to my house, so now it won't be sitting there at the top of the list-by-distance, looking at me with black-hearted glee.

I tried another down a woodland path that used to be the bed for an 'electric trolley' that ran from Pittsford (near the current post office) into Rochester. Tree cover and possibly discombobulated coordinates made this one a challenge. I couldn't find it, despite 30 min of hunting in trees and even under fallen logs (although this one's supposed to be a winter-accessible cache, which means it's not supposed to be on the ground). Once back at home, I went through the logs for that cache and it looks like I was close, and probably even saw the correct location, but dismissed it because it was on the ground and at least 70' from the posted lat & long.

The final three successes were made at an area park with the best selection of contorted and hollow and fallen trees I have seen in a long time--the best sorts of hiding places. We took Roo with us, but age (she's over 12, pretty mature for an Aussie) is really starting to catch up with her, and she can't gallop or climb like she used to--or at least, not for very long. Getting into the car, and up the stairs back home were hard, but a 1/2 aspirin later, she says she's feeling fine. Doesn't matter, if you're going someplace, she wants to be there.

Now I'm sitting with my foot elevated (probably not enough), thinking about a cup of tea, some more ibuprofen, and getting some reviews out of the way. Okay, everyone, vacation's over; back on your heads.

Sprained my foot last weekend so I haven't been able to do lots of hiking around this week, or been to the gym. And of course this weekend is apparently going to be a total rain-out..... Arghhh. I don't care. I'm still going out sometime this weekend to bag some caches.

Took urchin to the doctor today re: a bad cough that's been hanging around for 2.5 weeks or so. No fluid in lungs, just a cold that won't let go. Time to buy some Vicks and a humidifier. Also, to gather items for urchin's Halloween costume. He shows me the illustration for the 'spectre' in the old D&D Monster Manual and says "I want to look like this." Other than the fact that the spectre is clearly meant to be transparent in that picture, I think we can pull it off. I found an old can of zinc oxide. That should do for the white skin. White shirt and mostly white pants, and a cotton batting wig. That's pretty easy, right?

Up to armpits with reviews, and really need to get some astronomy article pitches out to Ad Astra now that I have the editor's attention. I have an assignment for December, but nothing cooking otherwise. Something like 30 pitches out right now for the past month. Not enough, clearly.

And--I bought new shoes yesterday. For $3, at the community yard sale to benefit the local PTSA (which is like a PTA, without paying dues to the national PTA people). New shoes, hurray! A little bit big, but with thick socks, they'll do just fine. Too bad there were no winter boots, because I could use a pair. Or I could just put the Yaktraxx on my shoes again, like last winter.

Still no word on the fate of my winter coat, which had a broken zipper: you know, the kind that splits open whenever you try to zip it up. I sent it to LL Bean for fixing or replacement (It's only 6 yrs old; I have other Bean stuff that's much older, so I figure they should fix it for free--cross your fingers!) As long as we don't have any more 30-40 degree F days like last week, I can hold out.

Yesterday (while in the midst of visiting my folks with urchin for my mom's birthday) I dragged my bestest high school friend 'Bart' (names changed to protect the guilty) off on a geocaching tour of the Elmira environs. He was visiting his folks as well; now I'm sure he'll go back to San Diego and tell everyone what a kook I've become (maybe as much of a kook as FM, another high school friend, but I hope that's stretching it some).

The day was gray & rainy, with temps in the upper 30s-low 40s (depending on altitude). We needed to get partly down a steep, glacial-carved hill high enough that it still had snow on top, left over from a quickee storm a couple of days ago. Everything was slippy with wet rocks and fallen leaves.

There were two ways down to the spot I wanted. One, right off the side of the road, was a slope with a varying 75-90 degree pitch. Scratched-away leaves and bare mud and rock showed us others had gone this way in the last month or so, but my knees said, "No," very firmly. Even if they had agreed, I doubted their ability to stop me where I needed to stop, and it was a very very very l-o-o-n-g way down to the bottom of that hill, especially with the expected bouncing off assorted rocks and trees on the way down.

Hiking around, we sought and found what looked like a diagonal path along the side of the hill that would take us near the spot. With more mettle than brains, we set off down the slippy 45-60 degree slope...but in the gray light, we couldn't find the spot we wanted, and the way was getting steeper and more slippery, so I was forced to admit defeat. Besides, Bart's folks wouldn't have been too happy with me if I'd broken him on the hike. I had hiking boots, he just had good walking shoes. And of course, I didn't have my fancy carbon-fiber hiking poles; they were back in Pittsford.

So we went and did some easy caches in town instead.

Discoveries: The free GPS app on Bart's iPhone, with lat and long to merely 1/100 rather than 1//1000 degree, is not sufficient for geocaching. Heck, I can also beat it on data entry, and this with a Garmin Etrex Legend with a no-right-clicking Clikstik.

Also: if the one day you have for messing around outside is miserably gray and soggy and cold, it's a given that the day you have to drive back home will be 10 degrees warmer, bright, and sunny.

If there is geocaching filk, I'm sure this is part of "The Cacher's Lament".