"He don’t know where he’s going, but he ain’t never going home."
Partly cloudy, partly sunny, whichever. Currently, it's 81˚F. I have been outside every day now since August 15th, the past seven days. That's almost unheard of for me. I went out briefly yesterday, before the eclipse began to help Spooky get the chest of drawers we found on Sunday out of the van and upstairs.
Hazel Hill, we need to arrange for you to pick up the vanity.
As for the eclipse, it came and it went. The Horror Clown stared at it with his unaided eyes. And here in Providence we got only 65% coverage, which was just enough at 2:47 p.m. to make everything seem very eerie out there. The sky subtly dimmed. Shadows grew indistinct. And then it was over, and I was grateful we'd not gotten more darkness. Spooky used a colander to make a pinhole camera, and it actually worked amazingly well. She went outside and took photos of weird crescent left shadows on the sidewalk. I did not go outside.
From Facebook, something I wrote yesterday afternoon: I miss instinctively being private. I miss not casually divulging deeply personal facts about myself - such as my fear of the daytime sky - to complete strangers. I miss knowing better. I miss the common-sense discretion that is distrusted today by idiots who whine about the "importance of transparency." I miss secrets, and I miss both the individual and cultural understanding that secrets are precious and necessary for the world to function. I betray myself every day, seduced by the illusion of intimacy.
TTFN,
Aunt Beast
2:48 p.m.
2:49 p.m.
Hazel Hill, we need to arrange for you to pick up the vanity.
As for the eclipse, it came and it went. The Horror Clown stared at it with his unaided eyes. And here in Providence we got only 65% coverage, which was just enough at 2:47 p.m. to make everything seem very eerie out there. The sky subtly dimmed. Shadows grew indistinct. And then it was over, and I was grateful we'd not gotten more darkness. Spooky used a colander to make a pinhole camera, and it actually worked amazingly well. She went outside and took photos of weird crescent left shadows on the sidewalk. I did not go outside.
From Facebook, something I wrote yesterday afternoon: I miss instinctively being private. I miss not casually divulging deeply personal facts about myself - such as my fear of the daytime sky - to complete strangers. I miss knowing better. I miss the common-sense discretion that is distrusted today by idiots who whine about the "importance of transparency." I miss secrets, and I miss both the individual and cultural understanding that secrets are precious and necessary for the world to function. I betray myself every day, seduced by the illusion of intimacy.
TTFN,
Aunt Beast
2:48 p.m.
2:49 p.m.