Rushed

There was a lot of reading to catch up on, and I used so much of the limited time Sluggo was available for that, that once again there is little time for an entry.

I almost fell down a couple of times tonight because my pant cuffs so frequently untie my shoe laces. It's sartorial harassment, I say! I could solve the problem by discarding either the shoes or the pants. Given the warm weather, I could probably do without the pants. Going without shoes does not appeal to me, given the fact that I frequently go outdoors in the dark and step on night crawlers I am unable to see -- not to mention the ubiquitous earwigs. I don't like hearing them crunch underfoot, and would dislike feeling them squashed on the soles of my bare feet even more. I have some old pants I was going to get rid of. Maybe I'll make cutoffs of them instead. It will expose yet more of my flesh to attack by mosquitoes, but sometimes one must compromise. I can die of West Nile Virus, or of falling and cracking my head open. Life is not perfect, alas.

Evening

The lingering dusks of May are a compensation for the heat which stuffs the house. Lawn sprinklers come on and cool the soft breeze, and the birds sing their evening songs before settling down to sleep. Venus appears dimly, then gathers cobalt robes and shines ever more brightly amid a gathering throng of lesser stars. A dog bark or two punctuates the rising chorus of crickets, ice tinkles in my glass, and the first scent of jasmine drifts by. I watch the vapor trail of a southbound airliner vanish as the sky turns fully dark and serenity envelops the woodlands. This is why I like May.