it's a hot night. or maybe it's just a hot night to me. i'm burning up. i've asked everyone else (yes: have taken poll): are you hot? is it hot? does it feel muggy?

the resounding answer's been no, and i don't understand it. though it could be my wool sweater. it's not a heavy wool sweater. it's so old it's barely even a sweater anymore. it's practically see through. heh. anyway. maybe it's the sweater. maybe it's this damned high-maintenance mocha [1] i'm drinking. maybe it's the brisk walk home from downtown.

i wish i had a digital camera so i could capture little glimpses of all the little things that make me happy or catch my eye through out the day

this is what it was today... written to a friend a few minutes ago:

our wisteria... tonight i was laying on the big bench that runs the length of our wooden deck. i was looking up at the overhead trellis and the twining wisteria vines and the lazy lines of fairy lights. and in between the backlight of the wisteria leaves and the festival colors of the string of lights was the blackest most beautiful and comforting sky. and i thought, hmmmm... life is beautiful.

or is it just summer nights?

a coupla nights ago -- it was farmers -- we'd mosied down as a group. we don't even look for produce anymore. mostly it's just flowers and a baked potato (in my case) (it's shredded chicken sandwiches from mo's for the rest of the crew). anyway, we cruised down to farmers and then to a former housemates cute little apartment which is in the heart of it all.

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