...sailors' delight.
Today was just as lovely as the weatherpeople promised; tonight is the first truly gorgeous night we've had, temperature-wise, in a long, long time.
I've been sitting here for awhile, thinking about the fact that I don't have anything to write for you this evening. I could rehearse another litany of my day: here are the things I did; here are the things I ate; here are the people I saw. I could tell you that I finally saw Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic and thought that yes, it was funny, but the line between funny and offensive is fine and fraught and ultimately I didn't love the movie enough to care about arguing out which side of it she's on. The final image of the film proper--wherein she seduces her own reflection--is brilliantly done, though.
I could tell you about how it was a good thing to crawl back into Oliver Twist today, after too many months off.
I could tell you about how happy the dog has been today, and how nice it was to shut down my friends' air conditioning and open up the house.
I could tell you about how I'm excited that my Chicago-bound friend will be arriving in Gambier tomorrow.
I could tell you--and had planned to tell you--about the funny things that happened at a birthday party I attended tonight. For one, someone juggled first three bocce balls and then five croquet balls, performing some fantastic, unexpected feats there in the dusk light. But earlier, the youngest member of our party (who is, I believe, three) looked over at the setting sun and said to her father, "Let's run to the sun!" and so off they went into the sunset. Later, her mother held her, grown sleepy, while candlelight gilded them roseately in the center of our circle.
But instead, sitting here on the couch in the cool night air, I will tell you briefly my favorite thing about this time of year: the return of cool sleeping temperatures. I do not like to be cold when I sleep, but I love to be cozy in the middle of a mild degree of cold. When the temperature dips into the 50s at night, I am happy to sleep with my windows wide open and my blankets piled on. (When it dropped into the 40s at the outset of my summer course in June, I finally broke down and closed the windows, simply so that I'd be able to shower in the morning.) Tonight, I fully anticipate burrowing before I sleep. I suspect that most of the time I sleep with my head almost fully covered, though I'm not really sure. I know that in the winter I often wake up with barely the top of my head poking out above the quilts' and blankets' top edges.
In any case: something about the first cool nights of approaching fall makes me a happy sleeper. And because fully sound sleep is only now returning to me, after its strange hiatus this summer, I am simply pleased by the thought of keeping the window near the bed open for tonight's slumbering.
I've been sitting here for awhile, thinking about the fact that I don't have anything to write for you this evening. I could rehearse another litany of my day: here are the things I did; here are the things I ate; here are the people I saw. I could tell you that I finally saw Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic and thought that yes, it was funny, but the line between funny and offensive is fine and fraught and ultimately I didn't love the movie enough to care about arguing out which side of it she's on. The final image of the film proper--wherein she seduces her own reflection--is brilliantly done, though.
I could tell you about how it was a good thing to crawl back into Oliver Twist today, after too many months off.
I could tell you about how happy the dog has been today, and how nice it was to shut down my friends' air conditioning and open up the house.
I could tell you about how I'm excited that my Chicago-bound friend will be arriving in Gambier tomorrow.
I could tell you--and had planned to tell you--about the funny things that happened at a birthday party I attended tonight. For one, someone juggled first three bocce balls and then five croquet balls, performing some fantastic, unexpected feats there in the dusk light. But earlier, the youngest member of our party (who is, I believe, three) looked over at the setting sun and said to her father, "Let's run to the sun!" and so off they went into the sunset. Later, her mother held her, grown sleepy, while candlelight gilded them roseately in the center of our circle.
But instead, sitting here on the couch in the cool night air, I will tell you briefly my favorite thing about this time of year: the return of cool sleeping temperatures. I do not like to be cold when I sleep, but I love to be cozy in the middle of a mild degree of cold. When the temperature dips into the 50s at night, I am happy to sleep with my windows wide open and my blankets piled on. (When it dropped into the 40s at the outset of my summer course in June, I finally broke down and closed the windows, simply so that I'd be able to shower in the morning.) Tonight, I fully anticipate burrowing before I sleep. I suspect that most of the time I sleep with my head almost fully covered, though I'm not really sure. I know that in the winter I often wake up with barely the top of my head poking out above the quilts' and blankets' top edges.
In any case: something about the first cool nights of approaching fall makes me a happy sleeper. And because fully sound sleep is only now returning to me, after its strange hiatus this summer, I am simply pleased by the thought of keeping the window near the bed open for tonight's slumbering.
posted by Dr. S at 10:08 PM
1 Comments:
I, too, saw 'Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic' yesterday. I laughed a little bit, but ultimately ended up feeling kind of ambivalent about the whole thing and wishing that I'd spent the time watching reruns of the Dave Chapelle show instead. I echo your comments. Enjoy the nice day.
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