I'm sure I'll survive tonight, as it just now dipped below 60 degrees, and the air is perfectly still—if you don't count any vibrations set up by all the croaking frogs. It's warmer here right now than all but one of the other places the weather web site lists across the top of its page: New York, Boston, London, Chicago, San Francisco. The one place that's warmer is Houston, which is at 74.6 degrees. I'm so glad I'm not in Houston. I'll bet it's muggy there, too.
Both of my lilac bushes have started to bloom, just in time to get soaked and blown about, not to mention severely chilled on that night that's supposed to get down into the mid-30s. I believe the same thing happened last year, which is why most of the flowers died then, and their withered, brittle, brown corpses have stuck around ever since. The bees will be disappointed, if there are any bees.
It's likely that I just ruined my dinner by snacking on peanuts. I got started and just couldn't stop. I shouldn't keep a jar of peanuts in my room, and then I wouldn't be tempted. But I have poor judgment. And I have candy bars, too, so maybe I should feel good about grabbing the peanuts instead of one of those. Anyway, the approaching storm will wash away all my sins so I'm not going to worry about it. Not until a tree falls on my house and traps me. Then I'll wish I'd saved those peanuts.