So all I want in my personal news input at the moment is Libya, and other evidences of the world turning upside down. I get irritated when NPR has other stories; I think, wait wait, your job is to address the confirmability of what I'm reading on the web. I am baffled by my librarianly and techie and bookish tweeps, who are continuing to post the content which has entranced me for years; what? how can you not be retweeting revolution and suppression...
well but how can I be retweeting things I know nothing about, instead of the mild librarian-day-in-the-life concerns that most of my followers presumably have followed me for?
It's even put a crimp in my usual reading diet. Shall I stick to natural history and gloomy-future-of-the-earth? Am I entitled to read fiction, especially mysteries? Imaginary deaths on the page, while I hover my mouse button over links labelled 'graphic' showing torture blood and death, and consider whether, since I am trying to witness, it is permissable to avoid clicking. (Mostly I avoid.)
Am I entitled to a life of comfort?
Nevertheless, I went to the ocean yesterday, and was rewarded with elk on Beaver Prairie. Highway 101, a two-lane all the way around the Olympic Peninsula, goes right by this meadow, and every time I drive to the outer coast I examine it carefully for elk, going out and coming home I check every time even though I've only ever seen them in winter, and there haven't been any for a year at least. But yesterday, yes. Photo also includes evidence that there was indeed lowland snow out on the West End, though no precip at all here in PA.
I stopped twice along the way in places I knew I could get a signal, to put the iPad online and see what was happening. Slaughter of demonstators in Libya was happening. I came home. I emailed tiny faraway elk pictures to everyone. Do you see what I mean?