Shortly

I let the room get cold so Sluggo would not crash. Then LiveJournal would not let me log in. Now the night has all but passed. I must be brief.

Wind has covered the ground with oak leaves and dry pine needles. They crunch loudly as I go out to fetch the paper. There will be much cleaning to do this afternoon, if the virus goes away. If it doesn't, then let them lie.

Short Sunday Verse

Bitter Cold

Anonymous (Six Dynasties)


Bitter cold. No one is abroad.
I have been looking everywhere for you.
If you don't believe me,
Look at my footprints in the snow.

-translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Thor Drives a Hummer; Film at Eleven

This afternoon, there were strips of cloud with chevron patterns, like gigantic white tire tracks across the sky. They turned a lovely pink for sunset. Autumn normally brings some of the year's best sunsets here, but there have been fewer than usual this November. I think it must be due to the unusual clarity of the skies, which is in turn probably related in some way to the uncommon cold.

And, speaking of uncommon colds, I'm not sure if I've got one or not. Wednesday, I woke with clogged head, but no other symptoms. I though it was the result of having left the heater vent open while I slept, so I didn't take anything for it. Thursday, I was sneezing and having chills and queasiness, so I began taking aconite. Today, its just a scratchy throat and a bit of coughing, and the feeling that I'm just about to sneeze, but I don't. I've continued dosing myself with aconite, so that might have worked (though it usually gets rid of all the symptoms right away.) Or maybe it wasn't a cold at all. Maybe it is just a reaction to the seasonal mold which grows in the damp earth and the fallen leaves. The whole place smells of it, especially now that the front lawn has been raked.

Anyway, it's still uncomfortable sitting in a cold room, so no more Sluggo for now. I will go watch the television, which doesn't mind working in a warm environment.