I actually fell asleep at around 4am, too, so I got about eight hours. I saw that a different cat comes around the backyard during the day, a white one with brown spots and a grey and black stripy raccoon's tail.
It's interesting the parade of animals that pass before the window just above the kitchen sink while I wash out the coffee pot. Yesterday it was a pair of alligator lizards doing push-ups. They were both facing me and it almost seemed worshipful, like the Kali cultists in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, until one of them pounced on the other, apparently misidentifying the other lizard as a member of the opposite sex. Or not.
Last night I watched the eighth episode of Battlestar Galactica, in which we learned that the Galactica has no-one more qualified to interrogate a dangerous prisoner than a recently injured fighter pilot, that Starbuck's plan to get information out of the guy was to ask him sternly, that Starbuck's ridiculously easy to manipulate, and that Cylons don't crack under torture. I already had misgivings about the episode when it began with Roslin walking through the woods in a luminous white gown. I was afraid we were heading for soppy romance territory.
But, despite my problems with the episode, I did actually enjoy it. It's nice when a show reminds us of the ineffectiveness of torture nowadays, and I liked the stuff between Gaius and Boomer. Of course, if Gaius doesn't immediately report his finding that Boomer's a Cylon to Adama, the whole thing's going to seem pretty silly. But I'm sure it won't happen that way.
The episode was written by Toni Graphia, one of a couple individuals involved in both this series and Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, also including composer Bear McCreary. Small world.
McCreary's website identifies him as "composer/lyricist/accordionist". The picture of him on the site shows a serious young man with one of those van dyke's only terminal geeks think looks cool. I would so love to see him cameo on Terminator on a street corner with his accordion and maybe some lederhosen, telling Cameron that he wishes to "serenade her with the dark passion of polka."
But the guy does do a good job on both series. I enjoy allowing my mind to accidentally suss English lyrics from the alien language vocals of the Battlestar Galactica theme. Last night I was getting, "Oba awesome. Now we call the radio. On a garden rack's out your mind. Now young candelabra's a . . . way ya . . . HOP!"
Well, I'd better go make use of the day now. Ha!