Can you believe it? Race weekend has come and gone, and I’ve got nothing funny to talk about. As a matter of fact, the hotel was so quiet, if you hadn’t seen groups of pregnant-looking men walking through the lobby on their way to the race, you’d never of even known they were there. Maybe the economy has had an effect on the consumption of beer at tailgating parties. Whatever it was, it sure messed up the content on my blog.
About the only annoying thing to happen, didn’t even happen because of the race. It happened because the bar below us ejected a couple of drunken blondes, intent on crying in their beer over a broken relationship. We need to lock the doors after 1 a.m. like most hotels. If you’re a guest, you can use your room key to get in. If you’re just arriving, use the intercom. Or, go home and sleep it off.
Already the daylight is waning, and I’m not happy about it. I’m a firm advocate of long days. I should say, days with a lot of daylight, but you know what I mean. This means in a few short weeks, the temperature will be dropping and so will the leaves. I love the colors of fall, but when every tree has finally shed its coat, all you’ve got left are a bunch of naked limbs. And, unless you’re in bed enjoying naked limbs of a different sort, the ones you look at on the street are nothing more than a sad reminder that we’ve got six or
seven more months to wait before the days become longer and nature greens up again.
When the time changes, I turn into a pumpkin. Not orange, round, or fat, I just don’t like to go back outside in the dark to have to go anywhere, unless I have to. When darkness hits at 5 p.m. my pineal gland says, shut it down, the day’s over. I’m lucky if I can last ‘til 9 p.m. before I’m in bed reading. During the summer, I’m just shutting down the computer at dusk. I know I’m not the only person to feel this way. I don’t understand why we need to turn the clock back since we’re no longer an agrarian-based culture. Well, I guess they’re going to do it whether I like it or not, so I’d better get used to it like I usually do: that is go into hibernation mode. I still have a little daylight left today, so I’m heading for the patio while I can. I’m going to wring out every last bit of summer from the day while possible. And, the stars, they’re waiting.
About the only annoying thing to happen, didn’t even happen because of the race. It happened because the bar below us ejected a couple of drunken blondes, intent on crying in their beer over a broken relationship. We need to lock the doors after 1 a.m. like most hotels. If you’re a guest, you can use your room key to get in. If you’re just arriving, use the intercom. Or, go home and sleep it off.
Already the daylight is waning, and I’m not happy about it. I’m a firm advocate of long days. I should say, days with a lot of daylight, but you know what I mean. This means in a few short weeks, the temperature will be dropping and so will the leaves. I love the colors of fall, but when every tree has finally shed its coat, all you’ve got left are a bunch of naked limbs. And, unless you’re in bed enjoying naked limbs of a different sort, the ones you look at on the street are nothing more than a sad reminder that we’ve got six or
seven more months to wait before the days become longer and nature greens up again.
When the time changes, I turn into a pumpkin. Not orange, round, or fat, I just don’t like to go back outside in the dark to have to go anywhere, unless I have to. When darkness hits at 5 p.m. my pineal gland says, shut it down, the day’s over. I’m lucky if I can last ‘til 9 p.m. before I’m in bed reading. During the summer, I’m just shutting down the computer at dusk. I know I’m not the only person to feel this way. I don’t understand why we need to turn the clock back since we’re no longer an agrarian-based culture. Well, I guess they’re going to do it whether I like it or not, so I’d better get used to it like I usually do: that is go into hibernation mode. I still have a little daylight left today, so I’m heading for the patio while I can. I’m going to wring out every last bit of summer from the day while possible. And, the stars, they’re waiting.