The batter swings, and the summer flies...
After years of constantly losing them, finding them, losing them, and finding them again, I seem to have finally lost my glasses. As in, for good. I still can't really believe it, because after being lost, dropped, sat on, stepped on, etc. for so long, I thought those glasses could survive anything. I've been wearing my contacts almost exclusively, so it's not a huge deal. The only time I really miss them is when I walk Sable before bed, because I don't want to bother putting them in just for that, but I'm a wuss and don't like going outside at night without being able to see well.
Eva's birthday was yesterday; she turned 13. I did some calculating and figured out that by the time she turns 20, my aunt and uncle will have had at least one teenage daughter for almost twenty. Solid. Years.
I finally finished reading Shutter Island and watched the movie, but I still haven't started Mockingjay (the final book of the Hunger Games trilogy, just released last week) yet. I think Sara and I are each waiting for the other one to buy a copy. And Athena is waiting for either of us to buy it. But for some reason, I'm not as anxious to read this one as I was with the second book, Catching Fire. Maybe because it's the last book and I don't want it to be over. Or maybe because the bad-fanfiction ending of Harry Potter scarred me for life. *shudder*
I'm so glad fall is (almost) here. Fall is the best season for bike riding, and I hope to enjoy as much of it as I can before winter sets in, because winter is the fucking worst season for it. To quote my calendar of Emily Dickinson poetry (I used to absolutely hate her stuff, but for some reason, she's grown on me in recent years):
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful
Best of all, fall means the Season 8 premiere of NCIS is closer! than! ever!