Quiescent

Quiet restored by the rain's departure, night grows limpid, distance opened for both eye and ear. Venus revealed for the first time in days seems brighter than ever, and the soft croaking of frogs fills the air. Dogs bark, and the raccoons are abroad. Even the softest breeze can be heard to stir the pines. It is all such a surprise following the relentless beating of rain which closed off all other sounds for so long. All I have wanted to do all night is listen to the spaciousness of it all, and watch the stars wheel.

Late

Sluggo had a severe conniption this evening. After the browser froze, he forgot what control-alt-delete meant and I had to punch his button. Then he wouldn't load Windows. (Who could blame him? It's Windows!) He finally got past DOS after I let him cool for an hour. Poor Sluggo. I'm sure he wouldn't make it through another warm season. I must get around to replacing him as soon as possible.

The day was unable to decide whether to be cloudy or sunny. At the moment, I see very few stars, so the clouds must be winning. Tomorrow it will rain again. It was a nice break, though. I don't mind a rainy winter as long as I get a few dry days here and there. Have I mentioned that I'm easily bored by monotony? That's one of the reasons that summer is usually my least favorite season here; day after day of heat and empty sky is exhausting. The best summers are those which provide a few spectacular thunderstorms, but those are rare in California. But I don't have to think about that yet. Changeable spring is still ahead, and a third of winter, too. There could yet be snow. It's certainly growing colder as I sit here by the open window, trying to keep Sluggo as cool as possible.

Since he is working again (though I don't know for how long) I need to get to some e-mail. Ah, the fun never ends, does it?