"I can say no more." "Please, say no more."

The combination of morning sickness nausea and the sort of queasiness induced by a nasty head cold is unspeakably horrible. I will not speak of it.

Full of beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.

Whitney says, "Hooray the carrot wave."
Whitney says, "... I am either going to love or hate empty hand puzzles, and I haven't decided which yet."
Whitney says, "Argh. I have got to get a better goddamn loom before I kill something in frustration."
Whitney says, "And I don't think I have anything to kill other than a sheep."
Whitney rocks another carrot wave. Boom.

[ Editorial note: These were comments made over an extended period in the afternoon in which nobody else was saying anything much. ]

Whitney shakes a fist at her bees.
Tesla [oneironaut] gets home. "... bees?"

( Continued discussion of A Tale In The Desert )