He's quit napping. The trash cans are still at the bottom of the driveway. The dog tripped several times on her walk this morning. I'm jumpy, sleepy. He's banging things around up there. I beg him to be quiet, lie still, get some rest. He needs it. He loses his shit right around dinnertime on the days he doesn't nap. It's been cloudy for two days. All the rain in the world, judging by the runoff patterns in the bare spots in the lawn, over the weekend we were gone. Again I've been gone. We were 100 degrees, and then we were not. It was July, and now it isn't. Now we're trying for that strange spot between here and fall, the spot where a hurricane comes in and blows all the wind the wrong way for a day or two. It's spider season, JLT used to say, back in the days when I lived uphill from here.