August 8th, 2005



These unintentional naps I've been taking in front of the television are not good. I wake up with a sore neck and an inexplicable urge to buy feminine hygiene products and light beer. I waste half the night, and then I can't get to sleep when I actually go to bed.

Black widow spiders are turning up around the place again. I terminated one on the back porch, where it had strung its web from the chair in which my cat likes to nap. I was quite displeased by that spider. Black widows are not the sort of spider that I welcome, especially when they ensconce themselves in places where my cat is apt to run into them.

The unintentional nap (or the crick in my neck in which it resulted) has given me a bit of headache, too. I'll stick it on a pillow right away.

Puffy white clouds this morning.


It's along about the second week of August that the decline of the season becomes noticeable, and I become aware that full darkness has fallen by nine o'clock. I always have mixed feelings about it. There is delight in the indication of Autumn's relentless approach, and the anticipation of cooler days as well as longer nights for watching the starry sky. But there is also a sadness at the loss of those long summer twilights which, at least in milder years than this has proven to be, I find a great delight. Though I invariably grouse about summer's heat and winter's cold, each season does offer compensations, and though I'm never sad to see the extreme seasons themselves slip away, the loss of their pleasant aspects always evokes some degree of melancholy. A month ago at this time, I'd have had my drapes open to watch the slow fading of the light, but tonight the light is already gone. I can't help but miss it.