August Sweeps - Day 571

I mentioned Solomon Grundy yesterday, and felt like honoring him.

I was up somewhat late last night, arriving at about 2:40am, and not having done my push-ups (I did get some sit-ups done at my cousin's house--he kindly put out a rubber mat behind the couch where his kids could play, and it's great for exercising on), did some of those (which are harder to do late at night than they are early in the day--another entry in the Life Lessons That Are Obvious book I've been writing in my middle age, along with, "Always pack an extra pair of socks and underwear" and "If you drink a great deal before you go to sleep, you will wake up early having to go to the bathroom"), and got to sleep a little after three.

So, is it any wonder that, during that long stretch of drive after the first canyon but before the second, I started to fall asleep again?  I think I've done this four weeks in a row, and nearly fallen asleep on that stretch every single time.  In fact, the first thing I did when I got here, after carting in all my stuff, was get my book out and read half a page before falling asleep on the couch (another tradition, maybe three out of the last five times).  But this time I was smart enough to tell my phone to wake me in half an hour.

I'm sitting here, in my usual seat, watching a baby deer--this one smaller than the ones I usually see--in the grass behind the neighbor's cabin, and while I tried to take a picture, it's really just too tiny and too far away to adequately capture.  I did go outside to look, and it did a quick hop back to the side of its mother, who didn't look at me with any suspicion.  I wish I could go over there--next door--and walk among the deer, but I fear that they'd catch a whiff of me and decide to be anywhere but here.  Just like with humans.

The sun seems to be going down already--it's semi-dark outside once again--but it's just dark clouds over the sun.  And it did rain for about ten minutes while I typed this.  Now it's stopped, and everything is quiet outside.  The roof has stopped clicking and popping, the birds are no longer calling, and the truck engines in the distance have abated for now.  Everything is still and beautiful, and except for the ticking of the John Wayne clock, it sounds like it sometimes does at six in the morning, before the world has awoken (awakened?).

And . . . it didn't last.  There was a big crash of thunder just now, and now it's started sprinkling.  Ho hum.

Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In August: 2676

Push-ups Today: 213
Push-ups In August: 3223

Words Today: 865
Words In August: 17,795