We're moving from the feline conductive cooling season
(sleep on the coolest patch of lineoleum on the bathroom
floor) to feline solar heating season (oooh, sunbeam!).
I'm in no hurry for proper cold to arrive, given that a
grape vine has invaded through the window in the server
room and the oil tank in the basement is empty, but one
or two nights of freezing temperatures won't cool the
house too quickly as long as another warm spell follows.
And that's what I'm hoping for, because the ragweed pollen
is doing extremely uncomfortable things to my sinuses and
the roof my my mouth. Alas last night didn't get quite
cold enough. Ideally the freeze should happen mid-week
and then we should have comfortable (slightly cool to
accomodate the amount of exercise a leaping guitarist
does) weather for the weekends when I've got performances.
Woke around noon, was informed that feeding the cat was
extremely urgent, fetched the mail while Perrine ate, and
found a snailmail letter from one of my college roommates
(Roger, my third and fuzziest roommate). He's in a PhD
program now. In the letter he complained about not having
enough room to store his books. "My apartment is a mess,
but it's a LITERATE mess." Okay, all my friends who can
identify with that statement raise your hands ... It
seems appropriate, somehow, to get this reminder of my
past, a reconnection to an old friend I've drifted farther
from than I'd like, as the weather is turning autumnal.
I know that spring is tradtionally the "season of awakenings
and new beginnings", but for me there's always been more
of that magic in autumn, as changes in temperature and
humidity and the flavour of the sunlight combine with
memories of soccer season and school starting to make me
feel more alive, more awake somehow. If only I weren't
so bloody tired physically.
Yesterday a surprise visit from
jbsegal,
today a letter from Rogest (our circle of friends decided,
when we were in school, that he was not merely "Rog" or
"Roger", but the "Rogest" person we could imagine, so
only the superlative form would do). I wonder whether
there'll be another surprise tomorrow.
Oh wow. Autumn. October. I have to start thinking
of a Samhain costume.
Yay for stupid flying insects. I didn't get a close
enough look to identify the species, but it was the wrong
size and shape for a housefly and moved wrong for a
mosquito -- the important detail is that it wasn't
clever enough to fly above cat-leaping range when Perrine
was in the room. She likes chasing thrown toys, and
lately has taken to trying to snag them out of the air
as they go over her head. It only took her one swat and
one leap to down the bug. One cat entertained, one fewer
bug in the house, win-win.
Okay, must force myself to deal with changing guitar
strings ...