Sitting out here

I'm sitting out here on an eightysix degree night after a ninetysix degree day listening, listening to, what, tree frogs? cicadas? some kind of night noises enhanced by the heat. I'm waiting too for the bugs 'cause I haven't lit the mosquito candles and i'm not going to.

I should go back in the house and go to bed because it is eleven after eleven and I have to work in the morning but since when do I go to bed this early. Then you show up on skype well sort of, you're not really talking to me but you did accept an invitation from my new name that I opened but oh i am really rambling aren't I.

It is kind of a rambling night. You probably shouldn't get involved with talking to me anyhow -- i am likely not going to be any fun to talk to. But then again you can usually cheer me up. Which you know.

And now even though the bugs are not yet killing themselves all over my computer screen, they do seem to be landing on me and i can't tell which are mosquitos and which are other crawly things, so I guess I will go inside.

I'm also waiting for my daughters to get home from the beach, yes, it is this late and they're not home yet but they are with somebody from church and the mom is driving so I am not really very worried. they should be home in fifteen minutes or so.

And here they are, now saying hi, and one is asking, mom, did you see my pictures from our trip? Can you show me tomorrow I say. Why, she asks, 'cause you don't have time for me?

AIM flashes: I am being productive, you say.

Oh, how very admirable is my snarky answer.

My uncle was an admirable in the navy is your attempt to humor me.

I tell my daughter: Of course I have time for you. And together we go through the three inch stack of photos, mostly her and various boys she met on the trip.

AIM beckons again: Nothing? you ask. Not even a smirk?

I have no response. I am looking at pictures.

My daughter is happy and beautiful in the photos, and I tell her so, although the beautiful part she never believes. Oh, mom, she says with purest disdain, you have to say that, you are my mother.

I was the same way with my mother.

My other daughter is not like that. She is the one who wanted a hug from me when they returned yesterday after a week away. And now she has lost her big stack of photos, hopefully in the car she just left. Her friends will search the car more thoroughly tomorrow and call her.

Now they've gone to bed and I'm sitting here half chatting to you on skype, half not. Then it is midnight and you say

I'm going to bed, g'nite.

Good nite i say. And i log off.