in-between days

I'd turn my back on him, too.

Wednesday, into September, no Peanut yet, writer's festival not for two weeks, Survivor doesn't start until the 17th. C is bored beyond belief, phoning me at work to make a case for new blinds in the kitchen. Out of everything you could be thinking about right now, *that* is what bubbles up to the top? I ask.

Yef, she says. It is. Can you at least think about it?

Just for kicks I went after a wasp nest this morning but that bomb/foam stuff just kind of gooped and fell off. Round Two tomorrow. The real deal are these
glass traps, if you're lucky enough to find them in stock. C and I watched one in action on the weekend and they are high-efficiency killers.

One thing they haven't invented yet is a control device for Queen's students, who have descended in their usual over-cologned, over-rich, over-protected swarms on Kingston. They are truly the beautifully stupid. People always shake their heads at the next generation but I have no fear for these kids because their parents have so insulated them from failure. They can just go to school forever, and always have a place to land, and a car to drive, and calling to search for. Maybe another trip overseas might help? Why not.


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