Insects. Yes. It's almost the time of year for the click bugs to start showing up. I like to poke at them and make them jump. Click, click, click. I don't think of this as cruelty to animals. I'm merely making sure that they get lots of exercise. It's like I'm their coach, training them for the bug Olympics. My bugs will win the gold!
Today brought some nice clouds, but they failed to array themselves in the best position to make the sunset anything other than commonplace. They have withdrawn to the higher ridges, leaving the local sky sufficiently clear that the day's heat might actually dissipate for a change. A cooler night would be most welcome.
My recent heat-induced muddle-headedness has been disadvantageous for the sourgrass. I have forgotten to water it, and it is rapidly drying, it's stalks turning brown and its blossoms withering. The hymenoptera that feed on its nectar will be aggrieved. I hope they don't realize who is at fault.
Two flaws have inexplicably appeared. One is a small hole in the plasterboard in the living room, about an inch above the floor. It looks as though it might have been made by a kick with a vary pointy shoe. Is an angry leprechaun at large in the house? The other flaw is a small cut in my right index finger, very near the knuckle. I have no idea how it got there, but it stings every time I bend the finger. Good thing there's nobody around I want to flip off.
Shower, watermelon, and the new issue of The National Geographic while Sluggo naps.