Goodnight

Right now, I'm trying to decide if this is going to be a four blanket night or a five blanket night. At the moment, it is very cold out. (As always, when I say "very cold" you must adjust for my location in California. Canadians would say "balmy.") One problem with going to sleep at dawn is that it warms up during the day, and I often need to shed blankets. Sort of like molting in my sleep. The diurnal range of temperatures here this time of year can be considerable. Decisions, decisions. I haven't been outdoors much tonight, because I haven't yet made my seasonal adjustment to the declining temperatures. I've just been sitting here, warming my toes on a cat. A few claw marks and ankle bites are a small price to pay. I like to be warm. I think I'll make it five blankets.

Drown

Another of those rambling, nostalgic posts began spewing itself forth this evening. I haven't time to finish it now, so I've saved it for later completion. Again, I'm reminded how writing is rather like digging a well. Most of the time, you can reach some minimal flow of water if you dig deep enough. Sometimes you come up dry. And other times, it goes all artesian on you, and you drown.

Glug, glug.