The Great Unwashed

When the rising moon reached the clear spot between trees tonight its lower rim appeared to be floating on a broad stream of glowing clouds. It has gone into the trees now and glints between clumps of leaves and pine needles, which cast shadows across the ground and onto the back wall of my house. I like sitting in the cool night air and watching the shadows move, but there are things to be done in the house.

Tomorrow I go to the chiropractor to get my head yanked about, and I just discovered that I don't have anything clean to wear, so it's a sudden laundry night. I don't know how I let it get away from me, but there's a huge pile of stuff to be done. I'll be at it past midnight, I'm sure, assuming I remember to transfer loads to the dryer on time. If I forget than I might not get it all done until tomorrow. Successful head yanking demands a decent amount sleep the night before, so I'd better get started. I might get a few chances to go out and watch the moon. The coolness will help keep me awake. I hate falling asleep with a load of undried laundry souring in the washing machine.