from writing to felines

Enough of those odd little musings. Tonight's storms have done their damage and moved on, and we had nothing this time except a lot of wind and more rain. Even skittish Edmund slept through it, so it definitely was one of the weaker storms we've had this week.

I've been toying with the idea of giving myself a bit of a mini-vacation from posting here for a few days. I know that won't happen, though; the best way to guarantee that something entry-worthy will happen tomorrow is for me to definitively announce tonight that I want to take a few days off. So consider this an officially wishy-washy statement of saying something like this:"I really want to take a day or two off from this, really I do, I swear, but I know that by saying anything to you that I've totally jinxed things."

Tuesday showers

Nothing like a good spot of thunderstorms to turn a perfectly good day into a sodden one, no?

Kat and I went out to run errands this afternoon—and managed, once again, to get caught in a sudden rainstorm. This one was worse than usual; after making our purchases at Kroger, we stopped in amazement as the winds howled harder and harder. The rain wasn't falling, it was being blown across the parking lot in sheets.

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For the next few days my entries will need to be made during the day. For some reason, the light in the computer room is not working, and neither is the fan it is attached to. Thus the room gets light and dark according to the passage of day. Add to the mix my none-too-strong eyes, and problems result. At this point in time, the easiest resolution is not to use the computer room when it is dark outside.

Until the lights are fixed, so much for the luxury of late-night journal writing; the thoughts must be bared in the light of day.

It is storming outside again, patchy, intermittent storms. Mother Nature can't seem to make up her mind whether she wants to rain or not, but she is being indecisive enough that I will not be able to work in the flowerbeds today like I'd wanted to.

Yesterday's purchases from a local nursery: two tiny pots each of French tarragon, standard chives, and Kentucky Colonel spearmint.

Unbidden, unstoppable: southwest to northeast

It is raining.

There is comfort to be had here. The softness of the light, the sound of falling drops splashing onto shingle, the sensation of dry skin relaxing in the presence of atmospheric moisture. Prismatic globes of water trapped between the strands of a finely-meshed storm screen. The rain howling down, slanted by wind until it rained at a sharp angle.

The complicity of the human heart

I have a few minutes left before the end of my workday, so I'm going to sit here, look occupied, and type out today's random thoughts. I promise that I'm over my depravity from yesterday; it would take a while to explain why in the world I posted what I did, but suffice it to say, it was just one of those things that, once you heard about it, is hard to get off your mind.