I'd opened a bottle of lager, rather than the dark porter I usually drink, and realizing that the dark bugs would probably have been invisible in the darker brew I wondered if I've ben downing these little critters for the last few days. They are like tiny flies, but don't buzz. It could be that they are the ones pollenating the white flowers. While thinking these thoughts I noticed that a third insect had joined the two of its kind already drowning themselves, and a fourth was flying about the rim of the glass. Maybe there's more protein in my diet than I'd thought. I didn't drink the last three insects, though, but poured out the last inch of beer. I think I'll use a cap of some sort over my beer glass for the duration of the bug season.
The only other excitement Thursday was a U-Haul truck in the driveway, from which about four people, including two kids, were unloading stuff and moving it in to the front apartment. Somebody has been living in it at least part time for a couple of weeks at least, as they have put out a wheelie bin on trash night. The thing is there has been no new car parked in the driveway, and isn't one tonight either. Has a fellow pedestrian moved in? Or has a family partly moved in, with more to come later, bringing a car or two with them? A mystery! But I hope no dead bodies are going to turn up— even if they are English. I've missed watching English people murder one another on television, of course, but not so much that I want any actual cadavers so close to home. American police would investigate, and they have nowhere near the charm of British television detectives.
I see by the clock on my computer that I am awake too late yet again. I sort of expected that I'd end up taking a nap tonight, but I'm still feeling hyper. Psychoactive pollen, perhaps. Or maybe those little flies I've probably been downing with my porter contain a stimulant of some sort. I probably need tranquilizer bugs, but I probably won't get them. I'll just have to make do with chocolate.