Out on the back deck, oil lanterns burning, in desperate need for a gaming night.
I have hardened cider. I'm in a tee shirt and shorts. I spent the last two days clearing away the fallen tree from the Nor'easter and my testosterone is up. Splitting wood will do that.
I'm in a technology funk, mad at it while making an LJ post on my phone. MY PHONE. I'm making an LJ POST ON MY PHONE AND CRITICIZING TECHNOLOGY.
Well, it's a funk and funks are not rational.
I'm unhappy with the government, unhappy with the news, (the news agencies, not the actual information) unhappy with the stupid that permeates everything.
Night approaches. The sky is a roiling boil of grey and blue, the armies of the Civil war going at it with fists.
The lanterns cast chipper coins of gold and silken bolts of shadow.
The bats are out, working it.
The things that make me happy, SCA, scouting, AD&D, are the things I'm not doing.
I better get in that.