rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Graying

I'm still not used to night falling so early. I didn't even get the wheelie bins back in before darkness came. Maybe by the time the winter solstice arrives I'll have grown accustomed to the short days, just as they start to get longer again. That's only about five weeks away, too. To me it feels as though the year is rushing to its end. One thing not rushing is the clouds. They've been slowly gathering all day, and tonight they are thick enough to obscure all but a few stars. The clouds themselves are lit from below by the light leaking from the towns. Only over the mountains are they invisible. Because of the clouds tonight should be a bit milder than last night, which got quite nippy.

Rain is almost certain tomorrow, and even more so on Thursday and Saturday. The days will now be almost as cold as the nights have been lately. Our next chance at sunlight isn't until, appropriately, Sunday. I think I might grow to miss it with four days of overcast, even if rain is adding some interest to those days. Oh, and the guy who is supposed to fix my roof didn't get here today, so the odds of the soggy wallboard on the head event are still high.

One thing that is not rushing is this computer. For some reason it has been agonizingly slow today. I hit the keys, and some time later words appear on the page. Maybe it needs a good defragging. Of a good flogging. I get those confused.
Subscribe

  • 51/50: At Last

    I timed things quite badly Thursday, with the consequence that there will be disruptive spillover today. For example, I just finished Thursday dinner…

  • 51/49: Can't Dance

    Any memory of going to sleep Wednesday night has been obliterated, but I recall a couple of wakings, the last of which happened sometime after three…

  • 51/48: Uncool/Cool

    It's funny how during that interval between waking up and finally dragging my aged ass out of bed all the problems sometimes seem utterly intractable…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments