July 27th, 2004

sutter_buttes_scene

Recoveries

Twelve hours later, I can still taste that vile mint flavored polishing compound the hygienist used on my teeth. Mint is bad enough alone, but there is also the unpleasant aftertaste of the saccharine with which it was sweetened. Ech. It's terribly distracting. I'm thinking about licking my cat's fur to get rid of the taste.

Almost five o'clock already, and the sky has barely begun to pale. I'm pleased that the days are arriving later. The lengthening night gives me more time for watching the stars, for resting my eyes in the enveloping darkness, and for letting the soft whisper of breeze in the pines soothe my ears. Venus is now rising above the eastern woods while the sky is still dark, and I watch its slow progress through the branches and leaves until it breaks free. The faint glow of coming dawn follows it. I see no hint of clouds in this morning's sky. The day will be hot once again, but milder than yesterday, and the next day milder still. This welcome tempering of summer's withering breath will, I hope, help clear my mind and restore my energy. I begin to sense the northward tilt, and picture cool autumn as a faint line of steely blue marking that horizon. I eagerly await its approach.
laszlo moholy-nagy_chx

Still July

Whatever little burrowing beast dug the hole in my yard a few days ago is either still at large, or has invited some friends to join the colony. There are three new holes today. They are on the opposite side of a concrete walk from the original hole, so I'm imagining a warren of tunnels undermining the concrete. I really can't blame them, digging underground to get out of this heat. But I must speak to my cat about this. My other cats kept the yard rodent-free for the better part of two decades, but all Sugar does is chase birds. My house could collapse into a maze of holes dug by gophers and she wouldn't care.

A truck parked in the driveway of the vacant house next door for a while this afternoon, and I expected them to bring out some equipment with which to mow the two-foot tall dried grass in the yard, but they went away without doing anything. Maybe they were just checking to see what needed to be done, and will come back tomorrow while I'm sleeping and make noise to disturb me. That's really a small price to pay for the quiet which has reigned most of the time since the place went vacant. I think it's been more than four years now. I'm not sure. It's difficult to keep track of time in a place where so little changes. Years all blend together.

Also: An interesting article dug up by wild_magnolia: The Faggot Family.

See this page for a bit of clarification. The link to Mr. Brain's Faggots on that page wouldn't work for me. Network problem. I'm thinking the site is overloaded by people seeking information about tasty British faggots. I wonder if they could make a vegan alternative?