Last night I went to bed at 9:30 after reading one of the short stories in Ellison's fabulous Deathbird Stories. Damn, but I love Ellison. Avadore was exhausted as well and was out by 7. We all got up at 7:30, but perhaps I should back up a bit.

Usually I'm nocturnal, but since Avadore was born, I've taken on his more daiurnal nature out of necessity. Since Winter has moved in, I've had more late nights. He's just persuasive that way. Wednesday we got home late after watching Fahrenheit 9/11, and then Thursday night, about 9 p.m. or so, we went up Scout Mountain, found a campsight, lit a fire and stared at the sky. There's nothing better than a black sky full of startling points of light surrounded by a circle of huge pines. We talked, Winter played around with his guitar, we ate s'mores and had a lovely time.

We got home at 2.

Avadore slept through the whole thing, so he was up at his normal time yesterday morning. As he did the day before.

So I went to bed early, and got up early today.

Avadore and I hit the farmer's market and the last part of the Pioneer Day Parade. Avadore was fascinated by most of the floats, especially the huge tractor.

We got some lovely lettuce, kettle corn, and since they were out of blueberry cinnamon rolls the size of Avadore's head, we got a huge chocolate chip oatmeal cookie and a raspberry oatmeal muffin. The cookie was wonderful. The muffin is okay. We also got some lovely lettuce. I can't wait until August when the farmer's market expands with the trasures from the local exploding gardens. Of course, by then, my garden will be exploding, too, so we'll see what happens. Still, there's something about a cinnamon roll the size of your kid's head and some lovely tea on a Saturday morning.

I have two stories being critiqued for my writing groups this week. Both are getting excellent critiques back so far. The critiques are both very helpful, in general, and very complimentary, which is a Very Good Thing. So, yay for wriitng!