(no subject)

I am winding myself up this morning.

For no reason I can think of, I can feel my hackles raise; little things others have done or not done are suddenly bugging me. I am remembering tiny irritations, and have this readiness to be horrifyingly truthful/warlike today.

Maybe this is because of the stream of good works required of me this morning, none of which I feel inclined to fulfil, followed by packing later. Maybe it's the heat, or that time when my mood is never at its best.

Weirdly, I feel a good mood waiting beneath the surface of all this growl. An excellent chum is turning up later, and that will be very cool. For now, I am just disguntled at all the stuff that needs to be done.

Last night this was the house of the four winds, so wonderful after a day of still air and blistering heat; the garden was cool with dew this morning, but even now the temperature rises, and the broiling begins.

A walk then, before the heat of the day and work, to clear my head.