PEACHFRONT SPEAKS

Recent entries july 4, 2018 - 2018-07-04 the triangle continues of courtney, boobear, & nyota - 2018-07-03 Cookie so cute telling, "Hello" to sparrows - 2018-07-01 lovebirb in love - 2018-06-30 wren with fluffffff - 2018-06-24 Read my new book, The 10 Best Things You Can Do For Your Bird at Amazon or at many other fine distributors like Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and more. By public demand, and after a delay of an embarrassing number of years, I've finally put my notorious essay, Ender and Hitler: Sympathy for the Superman, free on the fabulous internets. A bibliography of my published books and stories. Here's a simple card-counting FAQ to get you up to speed on the basics. Here's the true story of the notorious DD' blackjack team, told for the first time on the fabulous internets. No other team went from a starting investor's bankroll of zero to winning millions of dollars. A Sadean take on Asimov's classic Three Laws of Robotics can be found in Roger Williams' NOW REVIEWED ON SLASHDOT!!! The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect. Adult readers only please -- explicit sex and violence. For updates on the "Dead Tree Project" and other topics, you may visit the official fan site, Passages in the Void.. My Bird Lists -- My Louisiana State Life List, My Yard List and, tah dah, My World Life List. HEY! What happened to the Peachfront Conure Files? The world's only OFFICIAL Peachfront Conure site now features free peachfront conure coverage, including a magazine length Intro to Conures previously published in American Cage-Bird Magazine, now free on the web. I offer the best free Peachfront Conure information on the internet. If you have great Peachfront Conure info, stories, or photos to share, contact me so I can publicize your pet, your breeding success, your great photograph, etc. on my site. Thanks.

part two: travel is hell 2011-11-23 - 1:03 p.m. Awful experience at security. They called out a police officer. "It's just the routine," says the TSA guy. Well, it isn't routine to me. My nerves were wrecked. They ran my name on NCIC? C'mon. That's not routine. What a waste of time, but nobody asked me. They found a forgotten Swiss Army Knife at the bottom of my purse, and I had to sniffle a bit. For heaven's sake. Toss it and move on with your day. Onward to the club. No more of that good salad they had last time. Now it's just olives and olive oil. It was a bit early to get started, but I washed it down with some pinot grigio. Tight connection in Atlanta, so you guessed it. The plane was delayed. First off, it was slightly late arriving to begin with. Then it started raining in Atlanta, and the fine folks who designed the Atlanta airport never dreamed that it might ever rain in Georgia, so ATC told our pilot that we couldn't even get off the ground in New Orleans. We're sitting and sitting. We're the last plane out. Everybody else has left on planes going to airports where they're aware of the fact that it rains once in awhile. I did get upgraded to First Class, so we were not only offered a pre-departure cocktail, we were ordered three of them and the snack basket. Ho boy. I did have one Bailey's but I figured if I was going to be stuck sitting on the runway all night, I had better slow down, so I had Coke Zero for the other two drinks. Much texting and phoning around to see if anyone knew anything. We finally get cleared to take off, and I have another Bailey's and another chance at the vanishing snack basket. We land and then we don't have a gate. They finally find out at the T terminal, which is on the complete opposite end of the airport from the international terminal. I call Delta and they give me the same old departs at 10:30, doors closing at 10. DH says he sees somewhere on his computer that it's actually departing at 10:56. I'm running and texting, "Ha effin ha." The countdown to the train shows that it will arrive in 27 seconds, and so it does, but I still can't make E9 in time to catch a 10:30 departure. Fortunately, DH is right and Delta is wrong, because they're still boarding a few ragtag passengers. I finally get on the plane and find the seat I've been moved to with such difficulty now has somebody rather stocky with wide knees sitting next to me. Oh brother. In the middle row ahead, there's a guy sitting on the left, an empty middle seat, an empty aisle seat. I ask the nearest flight attendant if I can take that aisle seat, and he says OK. Finally, something goes right. I pull out my "Have a Drink on Us," and sip my Woodford Reserve with an entire can of Club Soda. I wave off the food, which looked execrable. I toss and turn but at least I'm not tossing and turning up close to anyone. I doubt I slept a wink. Finally, they serve breakfast, which I don't even bother to open, since it appears to be something in the fake cheese on nasty bread genre. The coffee is so bad that instead of getting another cup, I just take a No-Doz. Off the plane. These guys all want to chat with you now. Sheesh. Is this the new prime directive? It makes me nostalgic for the surly, non-speaking immigration guards at Macao. Of course, at Macao, I guess they figure that the chance of anybody understanding what anybody else is saying is too small to be worth the bother of trying to chat with you. Took the tube from Heathrow to Earl's Court. Piccadilly line terminating in Cockfoster's. Gotta love a name like Cockfoster's. I am now eavesdropping and I get the scam of the cheap internet. He's got the third world hustle going on of he doesn't have any change. Click the photo of the Tower to find page one of my 2004 London and Gloucestershire adventure: Part two of the story can be found by clicking the Worcestershire Gate: Shopping in Paris is more your speed, you sniff? Well, by all means, click on the picture from the antique super-mall near the Louvre to find my first Paris trip: You'll get the whole story if you start by clicking the photo and then just keep clicking "next" until the tale is told. back - next All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford