4.19.2024
Friday 3:50AM 64F partly cloudy - India Monsooned Malabar
Petrichor - a distinctive scent, usually described as earthy, pleasant, or sweet, produced by rainfall on very dry ground.
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo rodeo
4.18.2024
Thursday 4:04AM 64F cloudy - Mexican Terruno Nayarita
Axolotl - any of several salamanders that inhabit lakes and ponds of Mexico and remain in the larval stage as sexually mature adults.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth on a bike
4.17.2024
Wednesday 5:21AM 69F cloudy - Colombia FT Org
Poetize - to write poetry.
AI generated image of the day: Polar bear vacation
4.16.2024
Tuesday 5:21AM 62F cloudy - Ethiopia Misty Valley
Elide - to omit or slur over (a syllable, for example) in pronunciation. To strike out (something written).
AI generated image of the day: Sloth at the playground
4.15.2024
Monday 5:21AM 52F clear - East Timor Peaberry
Primordial - constituting a beginning; giving origin to something derived or developed; original.
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo Breakfast
4.14.2024
Sunday 3:25AM 45F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
Eustress - physical, mental, or emotional tension that is caused by something positive or is psychologically or physically beneficial.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth army
4.13.2024
Saturday 4:11AM 45F clear - Timor Peaberry Batch 1
Plethora - a large quantity or wide array; a lot.
AI generated image of the day: Bear and sloth buddies
AI generated story of the week:
Bear Migration
Bartholomew the brown bear shivered. Katmai Falls, once a haven of feasting on salmon, was now a frozen wasteland. Hunger gnawed at his belly, and the icy wind whispered of harsher times to come. Bartholomew wasn't one to give up easily. He remembered an old legend, passed down through generations, of a land far south, warm and filled with endless leaves. A land of the sloths.
With a resolute shake of his head, Bartholomew embarked on a journey unlike any other. Weeks turned into months as he navigated treacherous mountains and dense jungles. He traded a shiny pebble for a map from a cheeky monkey, and learned to swim across crocodile-infested rivers by clinging to the backs of unsuspecting water buffalo (much to their displeasure). Finally, after a grueling odyssey, Bartholomew stumbled into a lush rainforest canopy. Below him, hanging languidly from the trees, were creatures he'd only dreamt of - sloths.
The sloths, wise and unfazed, welcomed Bartholomew. They taught him the art of hanging upside down, the best leaves to munch on (avoid the spiky ones!), and the beauty of a slow life. Bartholomew, in turn, shared stories of the frozen north and the thrill of the salmon run. He even learned to appreciate the gentle hum of the rainforest, a stark contrast to the crashing waves of Katmai Falls.
One lazy afternoon, a commotion shattered the peaceful stillness. Men, rough and armed, hacked their way through the undergrowth. Poachers! They were here for the slow-moving sloths, easy targets for their greed. Bartholomew roared, a sound that echoed through the trees, sending birds scattering. The poachers turned, bewildered, at the sight of a giant brown bear in their midst.
Bartholomew charged, a whirlwind of fur and fury. He swatted rifles aside, sending bullets whizzing harmlessly through the air. The poachers, no match for his strength and rage, fled in terror, leaving their tools behind.
The sloths, hanging upside down, watched in awe. Their normally emotionless faces broke into wide, toothy smiles (well, as wide as a sloth smile can get). Bartholomew, panting but victorious, sat amongst them, a newfound respect blossoming between bear and sloth.
News of Bartholomew's bravery reached the High Council of Sloths, a group so ancient they seemed almost part of the trees themselves. They offered Bartholomew a remarkable gift - a lifetime airline ticket. Every winter, he could fly south to join them, and every spring, return north to his home at Katmai Falls.
And so, Bartholomew became a seasonal traveler, a bridge between two vastly different worlds. He learned the value of patience from the sloths, and brought them the fierceness they lacked. The legend of the fearless bear who befriended the sloths became a cherished story, whispered on the warm Costa Rican breeze.
4.12.2024
Friday 3:12AM 50F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley Batch 1
Plethora - a large quantity or wide array; a lot.
AI generated image of the day: Dance, goat, dance!
4.11.2024
Thursday - Oops, no Thursday entry
4.10.2024
Wednesday 5:12AM 60F cloudy - Ethiopia Misty Valley Batch 1
Subterfuge - an artifice or expedient used to evade a rule, escape a consequence, hide something, etc.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth race
4.9.2024
Tuesday 5:12AM 56F light rain - Timor Peaberry Batch 2
Totality - Astronomy. Total obscuration or darkening in an eclipse.
AI generated image of the day: Sloths in a dune buggy
4.8.2024
Monday 5:12AM 59F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley Batch 2
Fard - to apply cosmetics to (the face).
AI generated image of the day: Racing sloth
4.7.2024
Sunday 5:12AM 42F cloudy - Ethiopia Guji Kayon Mountain Shakiso Batch 1
Juggernaut - any large, overpowering force or object, such as war, a giant battleship, or a powerful football team.
AI generated image of the day: Sloths drinking in Key West bar
4.6.2024
Saturday 5:02AM 41F clear - Ethiopia Guji Kayon Mountain Shakiso Batch 2
Umbrage - offense; annoyance; displeasure.
AI generated image of the day: Polar Bear attacking activist
AI generated story of the week:
Polar Bear of Wrath
Barnaby wasn't like the other bears. Sure, he loved a good seal pup snack, but the plight of his dwindling hunting grounds gnawed at him, a constant rumble alongside his empty stomach. Then, one day, a peculiar scent drifted across the shrinking ice floe - humans, but different. These carried strange contraptions and colorful banners emblazoned with a melting snowflake. Climate activists.
Barnaby, with a cunning unlike any polar bear before him, hatched a plan. He'd feign kinship with these humans, earn their trust, and learn the secrets of saving his home. Inching closer, Barnaby let out a pathetic whimper, a performance worthy of an Oscar (if bears watched Oscars). The activists, touched by his apparent despair, cautiously approached.
Their leader, a young woman named Anya, knelt, her eyes filled with concern. Barnaby, mastering the art of the sad puppy-bear look, nudged her hand with his massive head. Anya gasped, a tear rolling down her cheek. They named him Hope, a symbol of their fight.
Days turned into weeks. Barnaby, the model ambassador, joined their protests, waddling beside them with a heartbreaking emptiness in his gaze. He even allowed them to strap a transmitter to his back, ostensibly to track melting ice, but secretly, to learn their travel routes. They showered him with affection, their stinky, protein-deficient food a small price to pay for the knowledge he craved.
One moonless night, while the activists huddled in their flimsy tents on a particularly thin patch of ice, Barnaby saw his chance. The gnawing hunger, temporarily subdued, roared back, a primal urge fueled by desperation. With a swift, practiced movement, he ripped into the nearest tent, the snap of nylon a chilling counterpoint to Anya's scream.
Panic erupted. But it was too late. The activists scattered, their cries swallowed by the vast, unforgiving Arctic night. Barnaby, the cunning predator, the symbol of hope turned nightmare, became the grim reaper on the melting ice. He had learned their secrets, not to save his home, but to secure his next meal, a monstrous irony echoing in the desolate landscape. As dawn painted the sky, a single, blood-stained transmitter lay abandoned on the thinning ice, a tragic testament to a bear's desperate gamble, and a chilling reminder of the true laws of nature.
4.5.2024
Friday 2:53AM 43F clear - Ethiopia Guji Kayon Mountain Shakiso Batch 2
Umbrage - offense; annoyance; displeasure.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth hang gliding
4.4.2024
Thursday 2:56AM 47F clear - Ethiopia Guji Kayon Mountain Shakiso Batch 1
Rangy - slender and long-limbed.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth having a drink with Jimmy Buffett
4.3.2024
Wednesday 2:51AM 61F clear - Congo Kiva Org Katana Station Batch 1
Chagrin - a feeling of vexation, marked by disappointment or humiliation.
AI generated image of the day: Small dog getting a buffalo ride
4.2.2024
Tuesday 3:57AM 69F cloudy - Ethiopia Guji Kayon Mountain Shakiso Batch 1
Naivete - the quality or state of having or showing a lack of experience or judgment; natural or artless simplicity.
AI generated image of the day: Polar bear on vacation in Panama City, Florida
4.1.2024
Monday 2:19AM 66F cloudy - Congo Kiva Org Katana Station Batch 1
Dragee - a sugarcoated nut or candy.
AI generated image of the day: Polar bear ride (I'm sure nothing bad will happen)
3.31.2024
Sunday 5:22AM 56F cloudy - Congo Kiva Org Katana Station Batch 1
Cavil = to raise irritating and trivial objections; find fault with unnecessarily.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth wearing suspenders
3.30.2024
Saturday 1:40AM 53F cloudy - Congo Kiva Org Katana Station Batch 2
Synchronicity = an apparently meaningful coincidence in time of two or more similar or identical events that are causally unrelated.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth spying on a drug making plant
AI generated story of the week:
Undercover Sloth
Flash squinted, the harsh fluorescent lights of the Langley interrogation room a far cry from the dappled sunlight filtering through the Costa Rican rainforest canopy. His three-toed claws tapped a slow rhythm on the metal table. Across from him, Agent Rodriguez wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow.
"Flash," Rodriguez said, his voice strained, "we need your help. El Dorado, the head of the Serpiente cartel, is cooking up a shipment of heroin unlike anything we've seen. We need someone to get inside his operation, someone they wouldn't suspect."
Flash's single brain cell considered this. Infiltration wasn't exactly in his sloth skillset. But the thought of disrupting the drug trade - that perked him right up (well, as perked up as a sloth gets). Besides, he owed Rodriguez one for that whole "rescued from a poacher's trap" incident.
Thus began Operation Slothzilla. Flash, equipped with a miniature high-definition camera disguised as a rather fetching lime green hibiscus behind his ear, parachuted (more like plummeted) into the Bolivian jungle, landing with a gentle thud amidst a patch of ferns.
El Dorado's operation was a sprawling network of tents and shacks. Infiltrating it was surprisingly easy. Sloths were, after all, masters of blending in. Flash spent his days hanging upside down from trees, strategically placed to observe comings and goings. He learned the shipment was being processed at a hidden facility within an ancient, crumbling temple.
But Flash wasn't the only sloth on the prowl. One evening, while Flash was enjoying a particularly juicy leaf, a hulking shadow fell over him. It was Dolores, El Dorado's enforcer, a monstrous two-toed sloth with eyes like obsidian chips. Dolores, unlike Flash, wasn't above a little coercion - like using his razor-sharp claws to extract information.
The interrogation wasn't pleasant, but Flash, fueled by a surprising surge of adrenaline (for a sloth), managed to mangle his intel, sending Dolores on a wild goose chase towards a non-existent coca plantation.
With Dolores out of the picture, Flash hightailed it - well, as hightailed as a sloth can - to the temple. He squeezed through a narrow air vent, the camera catching vital details of the heroin processing. Back in the jungle, he transmitted the data to Rodriguez using a cleverly disguised (as a particularly attractive bromeliad) antennae.
The next day, Rodriguez's team descended on the temple, apprehending El Dorado and his goons. Flash, watching from a safe distance (high up in a strangler fig, naturally), couldn't help but puff out his chest (well, as much as a sloth can) with pride. Even a slowpoke like him could make a difference.
Later, Rodriguez, covered in sweat and jungle grime, grinned at Flash. "You did good, buddy. You did real good."
Flash, munching on a particularly delectable leaf, simply blinked. Operation Slothzilla: a resounding success. Though, perhaps next time, he'd request a mission with less...claws.
3.29.2024
Friday 9:46AM 59F sunny - Congo Kiva Org Katana Station Batch 2
Biblioklept = a person who steals books.
AI generated image of the day: Sloths love ice cream
3.28.2024
Thursday 3:25AM 53F partly cloudy - Ethiopia Guji Kayon Mountain Shakiso
Connoisseur = a person who is especially competent to pass critical judgments in an art, particularly one of the fine arts, or in matters of taste.
AI generated image of the day: Casino Iguana
3.27.2024
Wednesday 4:02AM 49F clear - Congo Kiva Org Katana Station Batch 2
Jubilation = a feeling of or the expression of joy or exultation.
AI generated image of the day: Crime boss buffalo
3.26.2024
Tuesday 4:41AM 62F rain - Congo Kiva Org Katana Station Batch 1
Bedizen = to dress or adorn in a showy, gaudy, or tasteless manner.
AI generated image of the day: Banana sloth
3.25.2024
Monday 3:03AM 58F cloudy - Ethiopia Guji Kayon Mountain Shakiso
Malamute = one of an Alaskan breed of large dogs having a dense, coarse coat, raised originally by the Inuit for drawing sleds.
AI generated image of the day: White water iguana
3.24.2024
Sunday 2:42AM 48F clear - Mixture of Timor Peaberry and Indonesian
Bumbershoot = an umbrella.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth fighting a lizard
3.23.2024
Saturday 2:36AM 55F rain - Mixture Timor Peaberry and Colombia Sierra Nevada
Jabberwocky = a playful imitation of language consisting of invented, meaningless words; nonsense; gibberish.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth in outer space
AI generated story of the week:
Space Sloth
The sloth council meeting was as lively as, well, sloth meetings tend to be. But a tremor of excitement rippled through the sleepy gathering when a human representative from NASA, a woman named Dr. Hernandez, approached the dais. Her voice, unnaturally energetic in the hushed chamber, broke the silence.
"Esteemed council," she began, "we at NASA are embarking on a daring venture - space travel! But we need your help. Sloths, with your remarkable tolerance for low oxygen and slow metabolisms, could be the perfect astronauts for this early stage."
A collective sigh filled the room. The idea of leaving their beloved cecropia trees for the unknown vastness of space? Unimaginable. Then, a single claw shot up. It belonged to Sid, the youngest council member, notorious for his (by sloth standards) bursts of energy.
"I'll do it!" he declared, shocking everyone. Sid, in space? Preposterous! Yet, a spark of inspiration ignited in others. Here was a chance to truly contribute, to be more than just slow-moving leaf-eaters. Slowly, more claws rose.
Training was, as one might expect, a hilarious ordeal. Sid, strapped to a slow-moving centrifuge, dozed off mid-spin. Learning to navigate in zero gravity involved a lot of gentle nudges and strategically placed vines. But Sid persevered. He learned the intricacies of the capsule, mastered the art of one-handed (claw-handed?) food intake, and even surprised everyone by excelling at zero-gravity yoga.
Finally, the launch day arrived. The rainforest vibrated with the unfamiliar roar of the engines. As the capsule hurtled skyward, Sid, strapped in snugly (slow acceleration was key for sloths), felt a thrill course through him (well, a very slow thrill). Earth shrunk below, transforming into a swirling blue marble.
Days turned into weeks. Sid conducted his experiments, meticulously studying the effects of weightlessness on sloth physiology. One evening, as he was calibrating a leaf-dissolution rate sensor (a vital experiment for future space-faring sloths), a blaring alarm pierced the peaceful routine. On the screen, a fleet of sleek, menacing spaceships were hurtling towards Earth!
Panic? Not for Sid. He sprang into action (again, at sloth speed). Recalling a survival guide for dealing with aggressive toucans, he remembered the power of distraction. He grabbed a can of astronaut ice cream – a rare treat – and with surprising agility (for a sloth), launched it through an airlock.
The alien ships, momentarily mesmerized by the strange, floating object, changed course to investigate. Taking advantage of the diversion, Sid activated a pre-programmed sequence on the capsule. With a slow, steady hum, the capsule's underside opened, revealing a hidden compartment. Out drifted thousands of helium balloons, filled with a special, sloth-invented, foul-smelling gas concocted from fermented cecropia leaves.
The effect was instantaneous. The alien ships, caught in a cloud of the pungent gas, sputtered and coughed, their advanced technology failing under the unexpected biological assault. Disoriented and gagging, they retreated, leaving Earth safe.
Back on Earth, a hero's welcome awaited Sid. News outlets around the world hailed him as the "Space Sloth Savior." But for Sid, the greatest reward was the newfound respect he earned from his fellow sloths. He had proven that even the slowest among them could reach for the stars and, quite literally, save the world. From then on, space exploration became a joint human-sloth endeavor, with specially designed, slow-moving capsules that allowed sloths to excel in their unique way. And somewhere in space, a lone helium balloon, a silent testament to a sloth's bravery, drifted on.
3.22.2024
Friday 3:47AM 57F cloudy - Tanzanian Peaberry
Mellifluous = sweetly or smoothly flowing; sweet-sounding.
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo after society collapses
3.21.2024
Thursday 3:47AM 46F clear - Timor Peaberry
Onomatopoeia = the formation of a word by imitation of a sound made by or associated with its referent.
AI generated image of the day: Tennis Sloths
3.20.2024
Wednesday 3:30AM 38F clear - Tanzania Peaberry
Whippersnapper = an unimportant but offensively presumptuous person, especially a young one.
AI generated image of the day: Sloths after the collapse
3.19.2024
Tuesday 3:18AM 36F clear - Mexico Turquesa HG
Cacaphony = harsh discordance of sound; dissonance.
AI generated image of the day: Sloths rioting
3.18.2024
Monday 3:16AM 49F cloudy - Timor Peaberry
Duende = charm; magnetism.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth under arrest
3.17.2024
Sunday 2:24AM 53F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry
Prink = to deck oneself out.
AI generated image of the day: Walrus lunch.
3.16.2024
Saturday 12:56AM 59F cloudy - Columbia Sierra Nevada
Defenestrate = to throw a thing out of a window.
AI generated image of the day: Key West Buffalo.
AI generated story of the week:
Buffalo Adventures in Florida
Bartholomew "Bart" Bison wasn't built for the dusty plains anymore. He craved turquoise waters, not endless brown. So, with a snort and a dream, he loaded his meager belongings (a well-worn Stetson and a surprising knack for knot-tying) onto a cattle truck headed for Key West. His dream? To become a shrimp fisherman.
Key West was a kaleidoscope compared to Bart's buffalo past. Pastel houses lined the streets, their doorways overflowing with bougainvillea. The salty breeze carried the scent of sunscreen and freshly brewed coffee. Bart, with his impressive wingspan and impressive horn spread, became a minor celebrity. Tourists gaped, artists sketched, and writers stopped mid-sentence to stare.
The writers, especially, intrigued Bart. They sat under palm trees, scribbling furiously in notebooks. One day, he gathered his courage and approached a sunburnt woman with a wild mane of hair. "Whatcha doin' there, ma'am?" he rumbled, careful not to startle.
"Writing a novel," she said, surprised. "You interested?"
Bart blinked. "Is it about - shrimpin'?"
She chuckled, a sound like wind chimes. "No, but it's an adventure story. Ever thought of writing your own?"
A seed was planted. Bart spent his mornings dragging his shrimp nets, the rhythmic creak of the boat a soothing counterpoint to his thoughts. Nights were for borrowed books and stolen moments scribbling in the dim glow of the galley light. He wrote about chasing elusive pink shrimp, the sun-dappled camaraderie of fellow fishermen, and the way the ocean whispered secrets at night.
One moonless night, a different kind of whisper woke him. A guttural conversation, then the telltale thrum of an unfamiliar engine. Pirates? Nope. These fellas were worse - drug smugglers using Key West's secluded coves as a drop-off point. Bart, ever the protector of his new home, faced them down with a bellow that could rival a hurricane, sending them scurrying back to their boat.
The incident became local legend. He was hailed as "The Vigilante Buffalo," his story plastered on every newspaper stand. Inspired, Bart turned his experience into a manuscript. "Shrimp, Secrets, and Smugglers" resonated with readers. It was a heartwarming tale of reinvention, spiced with a dash of danger. It climbed bestseller lists, propelling Bart from fisherman to literary star.
Suddenly, Bart found himself on morning talk shows, his deep voice booming through living rooms across the country. He traded his Stetson for a straw fedora, a touch more Key West. He still fished, but now his nets hauled in words alongside shrimp. Bart Bison, the unlikely author, proved you can find adventure, and a new calling, in the most unexpected places. As he sat on his porch, watching the sunrise paint the ocean in fiery hues, he knew he was exactly where he belonged, pen in hoof (well, technically a prosthetic pen holder), ready to write the next chapter of his extraordinary life.
3.15.2024
Friday 3:19AM 69F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
Tourtiere = a pastry-covered pie containing minced pork or other chopped meat and various chopped vegetables.
AI generated image of the day: Sloths kung fu sparring.
3.14.2024
Thursday 4:05AM 51F clear - Columbia Sierra Nevada
Octothorpe = the official name for the # symbol.
AI generated image of the day: Can I take your order, sir?
3.13.2024
Wednesday 3:45AM 46F clear - Mexico Turquesa HG
Persnickty = overparticular; fussy.
AI generated image of the day: Walrus is introduced into high society
3.12.2024
Tuesday 4:24AM 39F clear - Tanzanian Peaberry
Sumptuous = luxuriously fine or large; lavish; splendid.
AI generated image of the day: Penguins flying south for the winter
3.10.2024
Sunday 4:02AM 45F clear - Columbia Sierra Nevada
Pithy = brief, forceful, and meaningful in expression.
AI generated image of the day: Dogs dressing up
3.9.2024
Saturday 4:17AM 61F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
Kerfuffle = a fuss; commotion.
AI generated image of the day: The Sloth Brothers on a renovation job
AI generated story of the week:
The Slow Home Brothers
The Amazon rainforest hummed with anticipation. Today was a big reveal for Phyllis, a nervous prehensile-tailed porcupine. Brad and Sid Sloth, the "Slow Home Brothers," swung gracefully into view, their expressions uncharacteristically animated.
"Phyllis, darling," drawled Brad, the taller, snappier brother, "we found it! Your forever burrow!"
Phyllis, a ball of quills jittering with excitement, squeaked, "Really? But is it - safe? No leaky vines?"
Sid, the shorter, gentler brother, patted her head with a slow-motion paw. "Don't worry, Phyllis. We Slothified it top to bottom. Reinforced the roof with extra-thick lianas, installed a self-draining moss filter - the whole jungle spa treatment!"
Brad, ever the showman, unfurled a giant, leafy banner. "Welcome to 'Prickly Perfection'!" he declared.
True to his word, the burrow glowed. Sunlight filtered through strategically placed leaves, creating dappled patterns on the moss-carpeted floor. A custom-built scratching post, complete with strategically placed twigs, awaited Phyllis' itchy needs.
"Oh, boys! It's, it's perfect!" Phyllis pricked her quills happily. "I never thought I'd find a place like this after that leaky old hollow -"
Her voice trailed off, a memory of damp nights and anxious shivering. The Slow Home Brothers understood. Many rainforest creatures struggled with unsuitable homes - leaky hollows, inadequate camouflage, or just plain boring digs. That's where Brad and Sid came in.
Their show, "Slow Home Makeover," had taken the Amazon by storm. Using their sloth-like meticulousness and natural understanding of the rainforest, they transformed subpar dwellings into animal havens. They'd add strategically placed branches for sunbathing iguanas, build hidden nurseries for cautious opossums, or even create elaborate mud wallows for the pickier tapirs.
"Now, Phyllis," Brad continued, "we know you like to snack on a little variety. We've planted a selection of your favorite flowering bromeliads right outside the entrance."
Sure enough, a vibrant array of bromeliads, Phyllis' favorite food source, bloomed just beyond the burrow entrance. Happy tears welled up in her eyes.
"This is more than I ever dreamed of," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
"That's what we do, Phyllis," Sid said with his slow, comforting smile. "We find deserving creatures and create homes that truly reflect their personalities."
As Brad and Sid swung away, leaving Phyllis to explore her new haven, they bumped fists (or rather, paws) in a rare display of sloth exuberance. Another happy client, another successful transformation. The Slow Home Brothers might move slow, but their work left a long-lasting, feel-good impact on the rainforest, one perfectly-suited burrow at a time.
3.8.2024
Friday 4:00AM 58F cloudy - Burman's Indonesian Bali Kintamani
Sycophant = a self-seeking, servile flatterer.
AI generated image of the day: Sloth lynch mob.
3.7.2024
Thursday 3:06AM 49F clear - Burman's Indonesian Bali Kintamani
Tricksy = given to tricks; mischievous; playful; prankish.
AI generated image of the day: Celebrating sloths.
3.6.2024
Wednesday 2:59AM 60F cloudy - Burman's Indonesian Bali Kintamani
Pilcrow = a paragraph mark.
AI generated image of the day: Dogs getting a bath
3.5.2024
Tuesday 4:10AM 64F cloudy - Burman's Ethiopian Guji Org. Natural GR. 1 - Kayon Mountain Shakiso
Cachet = a distinguishing mark or feature; stamp.
AI generated image of the day: "Bring a sloth to work" day in the Tokyo business district
3.4.2024
Monday 1:15AM 57F cloudy - Burman's Ethiopian Guji Org. Natural GR. 1 - Kayon Mountain Shakiso
Bellwether = a person or thing that shows the existence or direction of a trend; index.
AI generated image of the day: Bike riding sloth
3.3.2024
Sunday 6:04AM 54F fog - Burman's Indonesian Bali Kintamani
Pareidolia = the illusory perception of meaningful patterns or images of familiar things in random or amorphous data, as a face seen on the moon.
AI generated image of the day: Dog and buffalo playing
3.2.2024
Saturday 3:40AM 47F drizzle - Burman's Ethiopian Guji Org. Natural GR. 1 - Kayon Mountain Shakiso
Esculent = suitable for use as food; edible.
AI generated image of the day: Jessica Fletcher with dog Max on a dock
AI generated story of the week:
Woof, Woof, She Wrote
Jessica Fletcher, the renowned mystery writer and amateur detective, strolled along the boardwalk of Bar Harbor, her loyal Aussie Doodle, Max, trotting beside her. The ocean breeze tousled her hair as she mused about the plot of her latest novel, an enigma set in a charming fishing village suspiciously similar to this very spot.
Max, ever the astute observer, nudged Jessica's hand and gave a subtle, "Woof."
"Hmm? What's that, Max? Did you see something?" Jessica asked, peering back down the boardwalk.
A small crowd had gathered around the dock - a tangle of worried looks and agitated voices. Jessica recognized Mr. Finley, the local fishmonger, a man with a face as weathered as the lobster traps he hauled daily. A knot of fear churned in Jessica's stomach. This was just the sort of interruption that always preceded the unsavory word "murder."
"Something terrible's happened, Mrs. Fletcher!" Finley's voice had lost its usual jovial tone. "It's Miss Beatrice, bless her soul. Found lying on the pier - gone before her time."
As they approached, Jessica surveyed the scene. Miss Beatrice, known for her prickly personality as much as her award-winning crab cakes, lay still on the weathered planks. The town's bumbling Sheriff Wilson was already muttering about accidents and slippery docks.
Max, seemingly unfazed by the commotion, gave a single sniff, then let out a low growl.
"Whoa, boy," Jessica cautioned, placing a calming hand on Max's curly fur. He rarely got agitated unless something wasn't as it seemed.
"Smell something, do you, boy?" Jessica muttered under her breath.
"Smell foul play," Max whispered back, his voice so low only Jessica could hear. "This wasn't no accident. Beatrice was pushed."
Jessica's eyebrows rose in surprise. A talking dog was one thing, a talking dog with murder-solving instincts was quite another.
"Who would do such a thing?" she asked, scanning the faces in the crowd for a flicker of guilt.
"Old Mrs. Peabody, mark my words," Max replied. "Hated Beatrice something fierce. Always squinting her eyes in that mean way."
Jessica thought back to Mrs. Peabody, a reclusive widow who lived in the cottage overlooking the pier. With her reputation for sharp words and a sharper dislike for her neighbor, she did seem a likely candidate.
While Sheriff Wilson bumbled, sending townsfolk to fetch tea and blankets, Jessica pocketed her notepad and knelt to inspect the area with Max by her side.
"See anything?" whispered Jessica.
"Footprints" Max uttered. "Small ones, and heading in the direction of Mrs. Peabody's cottage. And this…"
He nudged a scrap of brightly colored cloth toward Jessica. She picked it up. It was a piece of paisley silk, the kind Mrs. Peabody wore as a scarf.
"Come on, boy," she said with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Let's pay a visit to old Mrs. Peabody."
The truth, as it often was in these matters, was hidden behind a facade of normalcy. Teacups clinked and a canary chirped as Mrs. Peabody greeted them, masking the telltale twitch in her eye when she spotted the damning piece of cloth in Jessica's hand.
Unbeknownst to her, Max sat quietly by the garden door, overhearing the old woman's mumbled confession of guilt to her gossiping cousin.
As always, Jessica, armed with Max's astute observations, laid out the evidence step by step. Mrs. Peabody's shocked protests were drowned out by the arrival of a red-faced Sheriff, ready to make the arrest.
That night over dinner, Jessica stroked Max's head as he snoozed by the fireplace.
"You're a good boy, Max," she whispered. "The best detective a writer could ask for."
Max wagged his tail sleepily, his secret safe - for now.
3.1.2024
Friday 3:50AM 51F cloudy - Burman's Indonesian Bali Kintamani
Adumbrate = to foreshadow; prefigure.
AI generated image of the day: Riding a buffalo
2.29.2024
Thursday 2:54AM 42F cloudy - Burman's Ethiopian Guji Org. Natural GR. 1 - Kayon Mountain Shakiso
AI generated image of the day: Slum sloths
2.28.2024
Wednesday 4:15AM 67F cloudy - Burman's Indonesian Bali Kintamani
AI generated image of the day: Giant buffaloes go to town
2.27.2024
Tuesday 2:39AM 61F partly cloudy - Burman's Ethiopian Guji Org. Natural GR. 1 - Kayon Mountain Shakiso
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo subway commute
2.26.2024
Monday 3:32AM 46F clear - Burman's Ethiopian Guji Org. Natural GR. 1 - Kayon Mountain Shakiso
AI generated image of the day: Ballet and Buffalo
2.25.2024
Sunday 3:20AM 39F clear - Burman's Indonesian Bali Kintamani
AI generated image of the day: Football dogs
2.24.2024
Saturday 3:12AM 44F cloudy - Burman's Ethiopian Guji Org. Natural GR. 1 - Kayon Mountain Shakiso
AI generated image of the day: Dog birthday party
AI generated story of the week:
The Travellers
In the heart of the Amazon rainforest, where the sun dripped gold through emerald leaves, lived a sloth named Sid. Sid wasn't your average sloth. While his brethren indulged in a life of napping and seaweed smoothies, Sid yearned for adventure. He would hang upside down, gazing through the canopy, dreaming of sprinting across savannas or soaring with toucans.
One breezy afternoon, a low rumble echoed through the jungle. Sid, roused from his daydream, peered down to see a sight that made his claws curl with excitement - a buffalo! Her name was Bovina, a majestic creature with eyes as dark as volcanic obsidian and horns that gleamed like polished amber. She'd strayed from her herd, lost and bewildered by the dense foliage.
"Greetings, mighty traveler!" Sid greeted her from his upside-down perch.
Bovina, startled, looked up and blinked. "Uh - hello?"
Sid, charmed by her gentle confusion, decided to help. "You seem lost," he said, his voice raspy from disuse. "Perhaps I can guide you back to your herd."
Bovina, skeptical but desperate, agreed. And so began an unlikely friendship. Sid, slow and methodical, directed Bovina through the labyrinthine jungle paths, pointing out edible leaves and safe watering holes. Bovina, in turn, cleared away dense undergrowth with her horns, protecting Sid from hidden dangers.
Their journey was comical. Bovina, used to galloping across open plains, found the rainforest's slow pace infuriating. Sid, accustomed to hanging and contemplating, would lose his grip halfway through instructions, leaving Bovina waiting patiently below. Yet, as the days wore on, they found a rhythm. Bovina learned to appreciate the symphony of the rainforest, the soft whisper of leaves and the chatter of hidden monkeys. Sid, inspired by Bovina's strength, started taking baby steps, exploring further than he ever thought possible.
One day, they stumbled upon Bovina's herd, grazing peacefully by a sun-dappled meadow. Tears of relief welled in Bovina's eyes as she rejoined her family.
"Thank you, my strange friend," Bovina said, nuzzling Sid gently. "You have saved me, and shown me the wonders of a world I never knew existed."
Sid, touched, realized he'd found an adventure even greater than he imagined - the adventure of friendship. He might be a slow sloth, but with Bovina by his side, he knew he could reach any destination, one leaf-munching step at a time.
Their paths diverged, but they never forgot their journey. Bovina, when facing a storm, remembered the sloth's calm patience. Sid, hanging upside down, dreamt of vast plains and a friend with horns of gold, forever carrying a piece of the savannah in his rainforest heart. For in the grand tapestry of the jungle, a slow sloth and a mighty buffalo had woven a tale of unlikely friendship, proving that even the most different creatures can find adventure and wonder together.
2.23.2024
Friday 3:58AM 54F cloudy - Mixture: East Timor Peaberry and Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo cardsharps: Don't gamble with the buffaloes
2.22.2024
Thursday 4:41AM 49F clear - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro (batch 3)
AI generated image of the day: Sloth going on a bike ride
2.21.2024
Wednesday 3:26AM 36F clear - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro (batch 1)
AI generated image of the day: President Sloth giving a speech
This is the batch we already tested on 2/19/24, one of the "experimental" roasting coffees. This one, batch 1, was at 433 degrees for 16.5 minutes. Still a little burnt tasting, but actually imporved in just a few days. Is the curing process more effective after two weeks? It's better than it was. Another mystery.
2.20.2024
Tuesday 3:45AM 32F clear - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro (batch 2)
AI generated image of the day: Artists dancing around a bonfire
This is the third batch we brewed of the "experimental" roasting coffees. This one, batch 2, was at the 450 degrees - for 12 minutes and 30 seconds. Essentially it's "dark roast" coffee, slightly burnt and harsh. We prefer "light" roast, so this isn't the best coffee for us. D doesn't want to drink it at all, might pitch it and make some more of our regular blend. One thing we learned - roasting at higher temp than the usual 433 degrees gives us coffee we don't like. Once again, I want to wait a week or so to see how it cures.
2.19.2024
Monday 5:42AM 28F clear - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro (batch 1)
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo shopping in Costco
This is the second batch we brewed of the "experimental" roasting coffees. We roasted four batches of the same coffee (Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro) at four different temperatures and times. This one, batch 1, was at the regular temperature - 433 degrees - for 16 minutes and 30 seconds. That's about one - two minutes longer than normal. This is an effort to make sure beans are thoroughly roasted and not too hard for the grinder. To me this tastes like regular coffee we make, but with a burnt quality. That makes sense, as it's roasted longer. D had the same opinion. It is drinkable, not too bad, but not the solution to our "hard bean" problem.
2.18.2024
Sunday 2:45AM 33F clear - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro (batch 4)
AI generated image of the day: Supermarket Sloth
This is the first batch we brewed of the "experimental" roasting coffees. We roasted four batches of the same coffee (Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro) at four different temperatures and times. This one, batch 4, was roasted on higher than ordinary heat - 460 degrees - for 12 minutes and 10 seconds. D doesn't like it at all, says it tastes burnt. It probably is burnt. I'm not partial to it, but it's well, coffee. We learned something: low and slow, not high and fast. Actually, we haven't learned that yet, still haven't tried the coffee we roasted at a lower temperature for long time. Tomorrow.
2.17.2024
Saturday 2:26AM 53F clear - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro
AI generated image of the day: Dog protecting his home
AI generated story of the week:
Dog of Danger
Penelope wasn't your average Aussie Doodle. Sure, she loved belly rubs and fetch, but beneath her fluffy facade beat the heart of a canine guardian. Unknown to her humans, Penelope was on high alert, protecting their suburban home from a sinister threat: the Box Bandits.
These weren't your friendly neighborhood delivery guys. Dressed in brown uniforms, but sporting shifty eyes and hidden pockets, they belonged to a secret organization dedicated to pilfering valuables under the guise of deliveries. Penelope, through a series of strange canine ESP experiences, had uncovered their plot.
One balmy afternoon, the familiar brown truck rolled up. Penelope's ears perked. This one felt different. It idled longer, the driver furtively glancing around. As he approached, Penelope feigned nonchalance, basking in the sun. But her tail thumped a warning rhythm against the porch.
The driver, unaware of the furry nemesis before him, placed a "box" on the porch and retreated. Penelope sprang into action. With a bark that rattled the windows, she launched herself at the box, teeth bared. The "box" hissed. Penelope yelped, momentarily stunned, but the defender's spirit wouldn't be quelled. She circled, barking furiously, alerting the neighbors with her canine alarm.
Confused by the commotion, the driver peeked from behind the truck. Penelope charged, a fluffy fury of teeth and determination. The driver panicked, dropping his disguise and revealing a hidden taser. But before he could activate it, a garden gnome launched by a well-aimed throw from Mrs. Henderson, the elderly neighbor, connected with his head.
Chaos erupted. The Box Bandit stumbled, dropping the hissing box, which revealed itself to be a high-tech gadget. Before the driver could recover, Mr. Johnson, a retired police officer, tackled him, disarming him with surprising agility. The other neighbors, alerted by Penelope's heroic barks, swarmed the scene.
The defeated Box Bandit was apprehended, his accomplices identified thanks to the gadget Penelope had disabled. The news hailed Penelope as "The Doodle Defender," her bravery saving the neighborhood from the Box Bandits.
From that day on, Penelope, the hero dog, enjoyed endless belly rubs and extra treats. But more importantly, she knew, deep down, that beneath the sunshine and squeaky toys, she stood guard, forever vigilant against any threat, brown truck or otherwise. As for the Box Bandits, their reign of terror was over, thanks to a brave Aussie Doodle and a very observant community. And everyone lived happily ever after, except maybe the gnomes, who now sported a rather impressive dent.
2.16.2024
Friday 4:11AM 48F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo and puppy
2.15.2024
Thursday 3:31AM 37F clear - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Sloth riding a dinosaur
2.14.2024
Wednesday 4:00AM 33F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: Valentine's day buffalo
2.13.2024
Tuesday 3:09AM 41F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Racing buffalo
2.12.2024
Monday 5:09AM 58F raining - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro
AI generated image of the day: Superman riding a sloth
2.11.2024
Sunday 3:26AM 64F cloudy - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo gambler
2.10.2024
Saturday 3:27AM 63F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Sloth Kung Fu master, practicing
AI generated story of the week:
The Sleeping Dragon
Master Feng hung upside down, his claws hooked lazily over a sturdy branch. Beneath him, the jungle floor teemed with activity, oblivious to the silent sentinel above. But his apparent lethargy belied a razor-sharp focus. This was no ordinary sloth: Feng was the Sleeping Dragon, the most formidable kung fu master within the Amazon canopy.
A guttural screech pierced the afternoon peace. Feng's eyes, usually hooded and half-closed, snapped open, glinting with emerald fire. A troop of howler monkeys, led by the monstrous Scar, surged through the trees, their roars echoing through the foliage. They were notorious fruit thieves, and Feng, protector of the forest, wouldn't tolerate their brazen raid.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Feng began his descent. It wasn't the speed that was deadly, but the precision. Each branch chosen, each swing calculated. Before the monkeys realized, he was amongst them, a whirlwind of fur and fury. Claws, honed like daggers, parried bites and swipes. His signature move, the "Hanging Hurricane," saw him spin upside down, legs extended, sending monkeys flying with the force of a flailing pendulum.
Scar, his fur bristling with rage, charged. Feng met him head-on. The resulting clash was a flurry of fur and leaves. But Scar, used to brute force, underestimated the sloth's deceptive strength. With a seemingly effortless twist, Feng disarmed him, holding Scar dangling by a single claw.
"The forest provides," Feng rasped, his voice slow and deep. "Take only what you need." Scar whimpered, his bravado deflated. Feng released him with a flick of his wrist. Scar scurried away, his troop following in panicked silence.
The jungle settled back into its green symphony. Feng hung still, his breathing barely audible. He wasn't a flashy hero, no. But beneath his slow exterior, beat the heart of a guardian, a silent protector who ensured the delicate balance of his world. As the sun dipped below the canopy, casting long shadows on the leaves, Feng closed his eyes once more. The Sleeping Dragon slumbered, ever vigilant, ready to wake at the slightest threat to his beloved Amazon.
2.9.2024
Friday 5:20AM 51F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro
AI generated image of the day: Bison ballet
2.8.2024
Thursday 3:27AM 42F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: Sloth artist audition
Sloth Factoid 5: Sloths communicate with high pictched squeals. Sloth experts estimate that they have a vocabulary of approximately one hundred and fifty different "words". They are able to warn each other about predators, signal the location of plentiful ripe fruit and the approach of pesky monkeys. Sloths are unable to use the internet due to lack of telecommunications in their remote habitat. However, when taken into captivity where wifi connections are available, they quickly become active online. They are partial to social media sites, particularly Twitter and Facebook. (From the Big Book of Sloths)
2.7.2024
Wednesday 4:40AM 36F clear - Mexican Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Sloth celebrating and partying
2.6.2024
Tuesday 3:16AM 42F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: Bar dogs
Serioius rain all day Sunday revealed a possible roof leak. Our tranquillity is disturbed. But we have other home repair/remodel projects, so we called the handimen, and well try to get all this accomplished ASAP.
Coffeee grinder worked without choking on some beans roasted 1/20/24. D changed the ration of coffee to water, it's richer now, not flat. Progress in small steps
2.5.2024
Monday 3:29AM 43F cloudy - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Sloth art
2.4.2024
Sunday 3:07AM 53F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Pub penguins
2.3.2024
Saturday 3:50AM 41F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley Yirgacheffe
AI generated image of the day: Sloth in the pool
AI generated story of the week:
Kingpin Sloth
In the heart of the Amazon rainforest, where dappled sunlight filtered through a million emerald leaves, resided Senor Sid Slothmore, aka El Pere perezoso, the laziest, slowest, and most cunning kingpin the banana business had ever known. Unlike his human counterparts, speed wasn't Sid's game. Patience, however, was his superpower.
Sid's operation was legendary. His underlings, a motley crew of spider monkeys with nimble fingers and even nimbler alibis, pilfered the ripest bananas from rival plantations with the stealth of ninjas on a sugar rush. Toucans with beaks honed by gossip carried messages faster than any jungle telegraph. And at the center of it all, perched atop a throne of woven banana leaves, lounged Sid, the mastermind draped in a golden banana peel robe.
One day, a tremor shook the jungle. A ruthless new cartel, led by the audacious jaguar, Dona Catalina Claws, was muscling in, offering higher prices and swifter deals. Sid's loyal monkeys began to defect, lured by the glitter of ill-gotten gains. His toucan informants brought troubling news: Dona Claws was planning a daring heist - the Mona Lisa of bananas, a legendary fruit rumored to grant immortality.
But Sid, unfazed, merely yawned, revealing a single, sharp canine tooth. He had a plan, as slow and methodical as the molasses he loved. He gathered his remaining allies - a grumpy caiman with a taste for justice, a wise old howler monkey with the memory of an elephant, and a family of dart-shooting frogs with impeccable aim.
Operation Siesta commenced. Sid, using his supreme knowledge of the jungle, laid an elaborate trap. Dona Claws and her jaguars fell victim to cleverly placed nets woven from spider silk, tripping vines strategically positioned on game trails, and a strategically placed mud pit that left them coated and comical. The frogs' well-aimed darts sent the remaining jaguar henchmen scrambling into the trees.
Dona Claws, cornered and furious, lunged at Sid. But the old sloth, surprisingly spry for his age, sidestepped her attack. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a durian fruit, the smelliest fruit in the Amazon, rolling towards her. Dona Claws, overcome by the putrid odor, fainted dead away.
News of Sid's victory spread like wildfire. His cartel, bolstered by newfound respect, thrived. Dona Claws was exiled, and the legend of El Pere perezoso, the sloth who outsmarted them all, became etched in jungle lore. Sid, back on his banana-leaf throne, munched on a particularly sweet fruit, a slow smile spreading across his furry face. He may have been slow, but in the jungle, patience was king, and Sid Slothmore, the laziest kingpin, reigned supreme.
2.2.2024
Friday 3:46AM 38F clear - Unknown
AI generated image of the day: Sloth in the big city
Bella back to daycare today.
Looking for a solution to the coffee grinder problems. This morning we roasted four batches of the same green coffee using different profiles. In a couple of weeks, when they've cured, we'll try them out and compare.
2.1.2024
Thursday 3:10AM 33F clear - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Bathing sloth
Bella had a good time at daycare, got 'enhancement' session with Anthony. Friday we'll have them take her for a walk.
More coffee grinder problems, the beans on some coffees are too hard, or there is a pebble or something like it. Might be under-roasted. Might be uneven quality coffee (some beans bigger than others in same batch.) It's a mystery.
1.31.2024
Wednesday 4:31AM 44F clear - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro
AI generated image of the day: Goth sloths
1.30.2024
Tuesday 4:37AM 32F clear - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo Gal
The weather isn't too bad, no rain and no hard freeze. We were able to scout for ASMS property, but didn't find anything suitable. However, traveling around the back roads is enjoyable, and we spent some time discussing the design of the Sloth Stadium (we've started calling it that). It's not really going to be an open stadium. It has to be enclosed to keep the temperature at least semi-tropical year around. But we call it Sloth Stadium anyway.
Bella goes back to daycare Wednesday, now that everything is more or less back to normal. I know she'll enjoy it. She got a lizard yesterday. She really is a killer.
1.29.2024
Monday 3:58AM 42F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry Kilamanjaro
AI generated image of the day: Buffalo stepping out on a date
1.28.2024
Sunday 5:57AM 45F cloudy - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Sunday church sloth family
Sloth Factoid 4: Sloths snooze for about 15 hours per day. That leaves only nine hours to lumber through the trees. They maintain a low body temperature of about 86F-93F and move in and out of shade to regulate their body temperature. (From World Wildlife Federation website)
1.27.2024
Saturday 5:20AM 57F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Columbo sloth
AI generated story of the week:
Detective Sid Sloth Solves Another One
The jungle floor crunched under Detective Sid Sloth's stubby, fur-covered feet. A crime scene like no other stretched before him - a banana tree, stripped bare except for a single withered leaf clinging to the top. The monkeys, usually a cacophony of chatter, were huddled in stunned silence.
Sid, with his perpetually surprised air and perpetually askew straw hat, adjusted his tiny magnifying glass. "Now, now, what have we here?" he mumbled, his voice a slow molasses drawl. He scratched his furry chest, sending a shower of leaves cascading down.
The alpha monkey, a wiry figure named Chuck, approached, clutching a half-eaten banana. "Mr. Sloth," he squeaked, voice tight, "it's a disaster! Someone's pilfered our entire stash!"
Sid, unfazed, examined the banana tree. "Hmm, strange, Chuck. Not a single peel left behind. A meticulous thief, wouldn't you say?"
The monkeys exchanged nervous glances. Chuck pointed a bony finger at a gruff-looking orangutan named Bobo. "That one over there! Always eyeing our bananas."
Bobo scoffed, peeling a mango with exaggerated nonchalance. "Me? I wouldn't touch your bruised rejects with a ten-foot vine, you mangy bunch!"
Sid ambled over to Bobo, his slow gait masking his keen observation. "Let's have a look at those hands, shall we?" he said, holding out his magnifying glass. "No sticky residue, no banana mush... hmm, interesting."
Sid then turned to the other monkeys, meticulously inspecting their fur for telltale yellow smudges. He even peeked inside their cheek pouches, eliciting shrieks of indignation. But nothing turned up.
Just when the investigation seemed to hit a dead end, a flash of yellow caught Sid's eye. High above, nestled in a tree hollow, were dozens of plump, perfect bananas. His eyes widened. "Just one more thing, Chuck," he drawled, pointing up.
The monkeys followed his gaze, gasps erupting. Chuck's face reddened. "It's... it's not what it looks like! I was just... saving them for a rainy day!"
But with the evidence stacked against him, Chuck confessed. He'd used a vine ladder to pilfer the bananas, planning to stash them away for his own private feast. The other monkeys, however, weren't having it. With a flurry of chattering and hair-pulling, they banished Chuck to the far side of the jungle, leaving him with only his bruised mangoes for company.
Sid, basking in the monkeys' gratitude (and a generous offering of fresh bananas), tipped his hat. "Just remember, folks," he mumbled, "honesty is always the sweetest policy." Then, with a slow, contented smile, he shuffled back into the jungle, ready for his next case, whatever it might be. After all, in a jungle full of mischief, a detective like Sid Sloth would never be out of work.
1.26.2024
Friday 12:41AM 61F cloudy - Columbia Sierra Nevada FTO
In spite of the rain we were planning to take Killer Bella to daycare today. She's ready for some dog fun with her buddies. However, we had some unexpected activities, and so cancelled. When we take her back (hopefully next week) we'll see that she gets extra play and walks, to make up for the misses.
Due to the weather we were unable to scout location for the ASMS (Alabama Sloth Museum and Sactuary) yesterday. We're looking for several hundred acres of mostly undeveloped land. A hundred acres of pasture would be good, so we would not have to clear land for the structure (stadium). We have more than adequate funding for the project, but we still want to keep expenses down when possible.
AI generated image of the day: Cubist buffalo
1.25.2024
Thursday 5:41AM 62F heavy rain - East Timor Peaberry
Nice and warmer these last few days, but rainy. Fine with me. No small animal fatalities to report today. So far.
The search continues for a location for the Alabama Sloth Museum and Sanctuary. It is becoming apparent that there are no longer safe and suitable natural areas for the beasts in Alabama. Urban development and hunting have reduced the population to subsistance levels. We have decided that a small reservation of protected land, and a large enclosed structure (like a collesium or sports stadium) will be needed.
AI generated image of the day: Dogs hunting - pick-up bar version
Sloth Factoid 3: The North American Four-toed sloth, an endangered variety of the species, resides in the southeastern region of the United States. Although most are found in the swampy parts of the Everglades in Florida, there are still small enclaves of the four-toed sloth in Alabama. Also called the Southern sloth, the Alabama Four-toed and "practice deer", the population of this beast has remained stable for several decades. However, as urban development spreads, the Alabama sloth environment shrinks. A philanthropic trust was recently established to build a sloth museum and sanctuary in central Alabama. As of this date, various sites are being considered in Shelby County. (from Encyclopedia Britanica)
1.24.2024
Wednesday 2:44AM 58F light rain - Tazmania Peaberry Kilamanjaro
Bella the dog is no sissy dog. Early yesterday morning she caught and killed a big rabbit, then raced around the yard with it in her jaws for a couple of hours. She's a savage animal, in spite of her elegant appearance. First a squirrel, now a rabbit. What's next?
AI generated image of the day: Rest in peace, anonymous rabbit
1.23.2024
Tuesday 4:23AM 50F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
Bella did not go to daycare yesterday. It was just too cold. We'll take her in this Friday. We still want a possible luxury lunch, and a trip to Home Depot to look at that deck railing and flooring. And, of course we'll look at sites for the new sloth museum and sanctuary. Sloths have been hunted almost to extinction here in Alabama. They are not protected by any state or federal law, and are such slow and easy targets that hunters use them to train their youngster to hunt - they call them "practice deer". Today sloths are rarely sighted in the wild. The sloths in the Birmingham Zoo are so old and inactive there is some speculation that they are actually stuffed sloths, the products of the taxidermists art. Whether true or not, they are certainly pathetic, moth-eaten specimens, poor representatives of that noble species.
AI generated image of the day: Coffee Sloth
Your Tuesday Sloth Poem (generated by AI)
Coffee Sloth In emerald embrace, the sloth entwines, Sipping sunlight, coffee-leaf divines. A drowsy smile, a caffeinated sigh, Contentment hangs in moss-draped canopy. Beans like emeralds, brewed in drowsy dew, Fuel for daydreams, slow and hazy blue. Each gentle chomp, a leaf's caffeined song, The sloth's love story, whispered all day long.
1.22.2024
Monday 5:07AM 25F partly cloudy - Columbia Sierra Nevada FTO
Bella goes to daycare today, finally, after a week of miserably cold temperatures. It's still cold but not as bad. She really needs the activity, and doesn't seem to like the cold at all. Possible luxury lunch today, and a trip to Home Depot to look at deck railing and flooring. Then we'll look at sites for the new sloth museum and sanctuary we're thinking about funding. It's hard to find actual tropical terrain around here.
AI generated image of the day: Society Sloths
Sloth Factoid 2: Sloths have large multichambered stomachs and an ability to tolerate strong chemicals from the foliage they eat. The leafy food is digested slowly; a fermenting meal may take up to a week to process. The stomach is constantly filled, its contents making up about 30 percent of the sloth’s weight. Sloths descend to the ground at approximately six-day intervals to urinate and defecate. (from Encyclopedia Britanica)
1.21.2024
Sunday 3:52AM 14F clear - Tazmania Peaberry Kilamanjaro
AI generated image of the day: Penguins celebrating National Penguin Day
1.20.2024
Saturday 3:27AM 20F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley Mixture
AI generated image of the day: Sloth artist auditioning for the Fuseday Colony
AI generated story of the week:
The Art Sloth
Barnaby the sloth dangled upside down, contemplating his masterpiece. A vibrant sunrise splashed across a canvas, a symphony of oranges, pinks, and purples born from the slow, deliberate strokes of his paintbrush. He yearned to share his art, not just with the chattering monkeys who occasionally swung past, but with real, discerning eyes.
His gaze drifted towards the Fuseday Colony, a charming cottage nestled amongst the banyan trees. He knew what resided there: a vibrant community of senior citizen sloths, their days filled with laughter, tea parties, and, most importantly, art. Barnaby longed to join them.
He mustered the courage to descend, a feat that took a slothly eternity, and made his way to the colony. The scent of lavender and freshly baked banana bread hung in the air. He found the ladies gathered in the sunlit courtyard, their canvases brimming with life, portraits of grandchildren, landscapes of their youth, abstract explorations of the rainforest's soul.
Barnaby, with a nervous twitch of his nose, presented his sunrise. He expected awe, perhaps a smattering of applause. Instead, he was met with silence, then a flurry of whispers.
"A sunrise? How...original."
"He must be new. Doesn't he know we paint the soul, not the sky?"
Barnaby's heart sank like a stone in a puddle. He felt like a twig snapping under a toucan's foot. He turned to leave, but a gentle voice stopped him.
"Young one," said Agatha, the oldest sloth in the colony, her eyes crinkled with wisdom, "your colors are beautiful, alive. But a sunrise is just the beginning. What story does it tell?"
Barnaby hesitated. He looked at his painting, not as a mere sunrise, but as a symbol of hope, of new beginnings. He saw the dew-kissed leaves shimmering with promise, the distant mountains dreaming of adventures, the sky whispering secrets to the wind.
"It's about -" he began, his voice barely a whisper, "about starting over, about believing that even the smallest creature can paint a masterpiece."
The courtyard fell silent. Then, Agatha chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that echoed through the trees.
"Welcome, Barnaby," she said. "Show us your soul, young artist. Let us learn from your slowness, your patience, your way of seeing the world unfold one brushstroke at a time."
Barnaby, tears glistening in his eyes, took his place amongst the ladies. He painted with newfound confidence, his brushstrokes imbued with the wisdom of his elders and the vibrant spirit of his own youth. He painted the rainforest's secrets, the whispers of the wind, the laughter of children playing in the sunbeams.
And the Fuseday Colony, once a haven for senior sloths, blossomed into a kaleidoscope of ages and perspectives. The vibrant oranges of Barnaby's sunrise became a beacon, a reminder that art knows no boundaries, and beauty can bloom even in the slowest of hearts.
From then on, the colony became a tapestry of generations, each stroke adding a unique thread to the grand canvas of their shared lives. And Barnaby, the once hesitant young artist, became a beloved member, his slow, deliberate brush painting not just sunrises, but the promise of a future where every sloth, young or old, could find their place in the sun.
1.19.2024
Friday 3:08AM 44F clear - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Because it's still freezing outside, another polar sloth
1.18.2024
Thursday 4:20AM 20F clear - Ethiopia Ademe Gorbata
AI generated image of the day: Because it's freezing outside, a polar sloth
1.17.2024
Wednesday 3:30AM 13F clear - Mexico Turquesa HG Chiapas
Sloth Factoid 1: Sloths - the sluggish tree-dwellers of Central and South America - spend their lives in the tropical rain forests. They move through the canopy at a rate of about 40 yards per day, munching on leaves, twigs and buds. Sloths have an exceptionally low metabolic rate and spend 15 to 20 hours per day sleeping. And surprisingly enough, the long-armed animals are excellent swimmers. They occasionally drop from their treetop perches into water for a paddle. (from Encyclopedia Britanica)
AI generated image of the day: Dog having a drink
1.16.2024
Tuesday 4:30AM 24F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
Ice and some snow this morning, this is turning out to be a bad, cold winter. Adding insult to injury, we can expect a high electricity bill next month. Could be worse, of course. We could live up north somewhere.
AI generated image of the day: Olympic racing sloth
Your Tuesday Sloth Poem (generated by AI)
Sloth Dreams of Glory
Beneath the sun, where shadows sprawl,
A sloth named Sid, with dreams quite tall,
Aspired to sprint, a feat unheard,
Olympic gold, his every word.
His brethren chuckled, slow and wise,
"Sid, dear sloth, with slumberous eyes?
The hundred yard? A snail's own pace,
Leave racing dreams to cheetah's grace."
But Sid, undeterred, with leafy crown,
Began his quest, on branches down.
He stretched and yawned, then lumbered slow,
Each inch a triumph, don't you know?
He'd inch towards finish, day by day,
While rivals blurred in lightning's spray.
The crowd, at first in jestful jeer,
Now cheered him on, year after year.
For Sid, though last, with smile so wide,
Showed grit and heart, in leafy stride.
He crossed the line, a hero true,
No gold in hand, but dreams come true.
He taught the world, though pace be slow,
With steady will, your spirit glows.
So raise a leaf, for Sid the sloth,
Who dared to dream, and conquered sloth.
And though he never reached the prize,
His legend runs, beneath the skies,
A tale of heart, that dared to fly,
The slowest sprint, to victory.
1.15.2024
Monday 5:28AM 36F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: Sloth ice skating
1.14.2024
Sunday 2:46AM 28F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: New Years sloth
1.13.2024
Saturday 3:33AM 31F clear - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Sloths riding the rollercoaster
AI generated story of the week:
Hero Sloths
In the heart of a rainforest teeming with vibrant flora and fauna, nestled amongst the ancient kapok trees, lay Slothville. It was a sleepy little town inhabited by slow-moving, green-furred sloths who took life at a leisurely pace. Among them were Sid and Sylvia, two best friends who enjoyed their days napping in the sun, munching on leaves, and gossiping about the latest sloth telenovela.
One sunny afternoon, as Sid was hanging upside down, contemplating the meaning of moss, Sylvia swung by, her eyes sparkling with an uncharacteristic glint. "Sid," she exclaimed, "I heard there's a new rollercoaster built just outside the rainforest! It's called the 'Screaming Squirrel' and they say it's the fastest, wildest ride in the world!"
Sid, who preferred a gentle breeze over a g-force, was hesitant. "But Sylvia," he drawled, "rollercoasters are for hyperactive monkeys and thrill-seeking toucans. Sloths like us appreciate the finer things in life, like, say, the slow unfurling of a fern frond."
Sylvia, however, was determined. "Nonsense! We'll just take it slow, enjoy the scenery, and maybe even scream a little. Come on, it'll be an adventure!"
And so, with Sylvia's infectious enthusiasm pulling him along, Sid found himself strapped into the front cart of the Screaming Squirrel. The rollercoaster snaked its way through the rainforest canopy, offering breathtaking views of the emerald expanse. But as they reached the peak, just before the plummet, disaster struck!
A branch, weakened by recent storms, snapped under the weight of the rollercoaster. The tracks screeched and buckled, sending the carts teetering precariously on the edge of a dizzying drop.
Screams, not of excitement but of pure terror, ripped through the air. The children in the back cart, on a school trip, clung to each other, tears streaming down their faces.
In that moment of adrenaline-fueled panic, Sid, the sloth who savored stillness, found a newfound agility. He unbuckled his harness with surprising speed and, with a Tarzan-like swing, launched himself towards the children's cart. Sylvia, quick to follow, used her long claws to anchor herself to the edge of the track, creating a makeshift hammock.
One by one, with gentle care and surprising strength, Sid and Sylvia pulled the terrified children to safety. As the last child was hauled up, the rollercoaster lurched forward, miraculously re-aligning itself onto the tracks.
News of the "Sloth-erheroes" spread like wildfire. Sid and Sylvia became instant celebrities, lauded for their bravery and quick thinking. But for them, the greatest reward was the grateful smiles of the children they saved. They learned that day that even the slowest creatures can rise to the occasion, that courage can come in the most unexpected packages, and that sometimes, the wildest adventures are the ones you least expect.
From that day on, Sid and Sylvia continued their leisurely lives, but with a newfound zest for excitement. They even took the occasional spin on the Screaming Squirrel, though always at their own comfortable pace, of course. And whenever they saw a child in distress, they were always ready to swing into action, proving that even the most laid-back sloths can be the greatest heroes.
1.12.2024
Friday 3:58AM 54F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Sloth in a sombrero
1.11.2024
Thursday 5:27AM 32F clear - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Cowboy sloth on the range
1.10.2024
Wednesday 5:02AM 33F clear - Tanzania Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Traveling sloth at the train station
1.9.2024
Tuesday 2:05AM 52F rainy and windy - Ethiopia Ademe Gorbata
AI generated image of the day: Sloths in the big city
1.8.2024
Monday 5:58AM 32F cloudy - Ethiopia Ademe Gorbata
AI generated image of the day: Crow dog in armor
1.7.2024
Sunday 4:06AM 41F cloudy - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Sloth ice skating
1.6.2024
Saturday 4:27AM 48F light rain - Mexico Turquesa HG
AI generated image of the day: Sloth on the operating table
AI generated story of the week:
Barnaby Makes a Decision
Barnaby Bigglesworth, the most languid sloth in the Amazon, had always lived life at a glacial pace. Days bled into weeks, leaves into seasons, and Barnaby, nestled upside down in his favorite cecropia moth cocoon, simply luxuriated in the slowness. Until, one humid morning, a new sensation jolted him from his usual zen. A dull ache bloomed in his lower regions, a persistent niggle that refused to be ignored.
Days turned into weeks, the ache into a throbbing throb. Climbing became a chore, his usual upside-down grin morphing into a grimace. The jungle whispered rumors: whispers of "prostate enlargement," of "surgery," of a terrifying word - "urgent." Barnaby, despite his stoic nature, felt a prickle of panic claw at his furry chest. Surgery? But that meant moving fast, something his very being abhorred.
One steamy afternoon, Barnaby, propelled by a mix of fear and a surprisingly resilient sloth determination, found himself hanging upside down outside the clinic on the riverbank. Dr. Hernandez, a stout toucan with a beak perpetually sharpened by worry, peered at him through thick spectacles. "Barnaby," he chirped, "you're late. The jungle grapevine was slow this time."
Barnaby grunted, a feat that took nearly a minute. The surgery was a whirlwind of unfamiliar sights and smells. Barnaby, strapped to a bed that moved faster than a startled capybara, felt more like a leaf caught in a hurricane than the king of slow living. But Dr. Hernandez's nimble beak worked wonders, and soon, Barnaby was whisked back to his cocoon, a groggy, but lighter, sloth.
Recovery was an ordeal of its own. Leaves tasted bland, naps felt short-lived, and even hanging still required effort. But slowly, like a moss creeping over a forgotten statue, Barnaby healed. The ache faded, replaced by a cautious optimism. He even started venturing further, his upside-down grin returning, tinged with a newfound appreciation for the simple joy of movement.
One balmy evening, he found himself hanging beside Dr. Hernandez. "Thank you," Barnaby mumbled, the effort almost exhausting him. Dr. Hernandez ruffled his feathers. "No need, my lazy friend. You just needed a little nudge, that's all." Barnaby chuckled, a soft, slow rumble that echoed through the trees. "Nudge," he repeated, savoring the word. It wasn't about speed, he realized, but about choice. He could still be Barnaby, the king of slow, but now, he was a king with options, a king who knew the sweet sting of second chances. And as he hung there, upside down and forever a little faster, Barnaby Bigglesworth, the sloth, smiled.
1.5.2024
Friday 4:39AM 29F clear - Ethiopia Adame Gorbata
AI generated image of the day: Mob of shoppers returning Christmas gifts
1.4.2024
Thursday 4:55AM 29F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day: Wolf-clown family
1.3.2024
Wednesday 3:56AM 28F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: In celebration of his new public domain status, here's Mickey Mouse riding a sloth.
1.2.2024
Tuesday 3:39AM 29F clear - Tanzania Peaberry
AI generated image of the day: Clown riding a wolf
1.1.2024
Monday 4:17AM 40F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry using "Moccamaster"
Happy New Years Sloth
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: new years party sloth
12.31.2023
Sunday 4:30AM 27F clear - Tanzania Peaberry using "Clever Dripper"
Birthday Sloth
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: birthday sloth
12.30.2023
Saturday 1:56AM 39F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry using "Clever Dripper"
Egyptian god Anubus at a cocktail party
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: egyptian anubus cocktail party
12.29.2023
Friday 2:18AM 39F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry using "Clever Dripper"
Debonaire Sloth About Town
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloth top hat
12.28.2023
Thursday 3:48AM 41F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley/Mexico Turquesa 90/10 mixture in Chemex
Scary Wolf-Clown.
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: wolf eating clown.
12.27.2023
Wednesday 4:48AM 34F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry
Sloths on vacation, sunning themselves.
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloths sunning beach.
12.26.2023
Tuesday 6:12AM 52F cloudy - Ethiopia Misty Valley
Sloth on Boxing Day.
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloths boxing.
Happy Boxing Day!
12.25.2023
Monday 3:36AM 59F rainy - Tanzania Peaberry
Sloth Family Christmas.
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloth family chirstmas art deco color.
Merry Christmas!
12.24.2023
Sunday 8:11AM 51F partly cloudy - Ethiopia Misty Valley
Evil Santa.
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: evil santa art deco color.
12.21.2023
Thursday 6:19AM 27F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
Sloth Crossing the Delaware River.
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloth with washington crossing delaware art deco color.
Today is the Winter Solstice here in the Northern hemisphere. It's the shortest day of the year and marks the beginning of Winter.
12.20.2023
Wednesday 3:40AM 28F clear - Tanzania Peaberry
Cats Plotting Attack on Humans.
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: cats plotting attack on humans at desk art deco color.
12.19.2023
Tuesday 5:08AM 31F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: dogs in tuxedos in night club art deco color.
12.18.2023
Monday 5:09AM 38F clear - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: karl marx with horns art deco color.
12.17.2023
Sunday 8:37AM 52F cloudy - Tanzania Peaberry
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloth in wafflehouse.
12.16.2023
Saturday 3:24AM 48F partly cloudy - Ethiopia Misty Valley
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: cat riding a dog.
The Society of Classical Poets is a website devoted to poetry using classic (traditional) forms, such as the sonnet. There's a lot going on there, with poems frequently published and commented on.
12.15.2023
Friday 4:04AM 41F clear - East Timor Peaberry/Colombia Sierra Nevada mixture
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloth on a motorcycle.
12.14.2023
Thursday 4:55AM 41F partly cloudy - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: arab desert camels art deco color.
The first image was from perchance.org. This one, using the same prompts, is from craiyon.com.
This one was from deepai.org, using the same prompts. Much more surreal.
This one from freepik.com, using the same prompts.
This one from fotor.com, using the same prompts.
Finally, here's a short story generated by the Bard AI, after asking it to write a story about a camel in the desert:
Khamsin, named for the scorching desert wind, carried the sun on his back like a burning ember. His hump, a reservoir of resilience, strained to hold the precious water that sustained him on his endless journey. The vast dunes, rippling under the midday heat, offered no respite, only an unforgiving horizon.
Khamsin was no ordinary camel. He possessed a spirit that danced with the mirages, a wisdom etched in the lines of his weathered face. He remembered the lush oasis of his birth, a place of tinkling streams and emerald palms, now a distant dream in the sands of time.
He was separated from his herd during a vicious sandstorm, thrown into a world of solitude. But Khamsin found solace in the silence. He spoke with the wind, its whispers carrying the secrets of the desert, and the stars, their twinkling eyes guiding his way. He learned to navigate by the sun's shadow, to sniff out hidden water veins beneath the parched earth.
One day, while scavenging for scraps of desert life, Khamsin stumbled upon a sight that made his heart clench. A young gazelle, barely a fawn, lay trapped in a dried-up well, its eyes wide with terror. The merciless sun beat down, turning the well into a furnace.
Khamsin knew he couldn't abandon the creature. He knelt beside the well, his long neck reaching into the darkness. He offered the gazelle the precious water stored within his hump, a silent gift of compassion in the unforgiving desert.
The fawn, its fear replaced by gratitude, drank deeply. Khamsin watched patiently, his spirit swelling with a warmth that rivaled the midday sun. When the fawn finally climbed out, weak but alive, Khamsin felt a purpose beyond his own survival.
He became the guardian of the weak in the desert. He led lost caravans to hidden oases, rescued stranded travelers from scorching sandstorms, and shared his water with those in need. His legend grew with every act of kindness, whispered on the wind, carried by the stars.
Khamsin, the camel of the desert, learned that life wasn't just about surviving the harshness of the world, but about finding beauty and purpose in unexpected places. His hump, once a burden, became a symbol of hope, a testament to the strength of resilience and the power of compassion in the face of endless sand
And so, Khamsin continued his journey, not just a camel in the desert, but a beacon of light, a reminder that even in the harshest of landscapes, a single act of kindness can bloom into a legend.
12.13.2023
Wednesday 3:15AM 31F clear - Columbia Sierra Nevada FTO Chiapas
AI generated image of the day. The prompt: sloth in a wallow.
12.12.2023
Tuesday 3:30AM 30F clear - East Timor Peaberry
AI generated image from the prompt: "woman dog library deco color". This AI stuff is amazing. I wonder if it really is dangerous. These days, we're encouraged to be afraid, or upset, or outraged about almost everything.
12.11.2023
Monday 4:51AM 30F clear - Colombia Sierra Nevada FTO
Dogs memes are good. That's not news to most people, but it never hurts to be reminded.
Painting by Fernando Botero. It is not a dog meme. I can't find the name of the painting, but I think it's called "The Picnic". Maybe not, though. More about Botero here at the Britannica site: Fernando Botero.
12.10.2023
Sunday 4:49AM 57F light rain - Mexico Turquesa HG Chiapas
Good idea, or bad idea: Restrict reading material and entertainment (movies, TV) to that produced before 1960. Seeking the stress-free life, or head buried in the sand?
I've always wondered what it would be like to have gills, like a fish.
12.9.2023
Saturday 3:12PM 72F cloudy
This is experimental batch 3, roasted low temp (425) for a longer time (15 min 45 sec). D didn't care for it while hot, but liked it a little better as it cooled. I liked it okay, it was much like our reguar roast. Nothing special. The experiment is over. We won't be roasting any coffee at high temps, but might experiment with the low and slow method.