COLD AND HOT

There’s a great Richard Thompson song (only one) that starts “Night comes in/Like some cold river/How can there be another day … there’s an inexorable movement to the song. Well, in this part of the world, “Fall comes in/like some cold river.” The heat of the day can still get to brutal, but the mornings are quite cool. As in, time-to-look-for-slippers-cool. 

Days later.

Brutally humid and hot again. The carpets are squishy just from absorbing the ambient humidity. Cats are flat. I am kind of flat, too.

Now it is almost 6:00 a.m. I woke up about an hour ago, not really able to sleep much more. This seemed like a good moment to have some honey and hot water while I listen to the crickets and watch a gigantic moth bounce around. Cooder came in for an early morning snack. Maybe I will get some cat cuddles out of the deal, but it is pretty hot still, in the low 70s, so she might want to go get under a bed or something.

It is coming, that Fall thing. Here's some proof, plus it is September 1st. 

I went down to Brooklyn for the second time this week. My friends Eric and Kate Merola opened their new documentary, Second Opinion: Laetrile at Sloan-Kettering. Mel and I attended. We ran into some other friends, hung out with the subject of the film (Ralph Moss) and several of the interviewees. Much red wine was consumed. 

Now back upstate, up too early with cats, Greenies, and you, wondering which direction to take ... towards more sleep or ... perhaps some reading will move me back toward rest. I think I could use a bit more of the stuff.