Equinox

Monday: Last week, a coworker and friend was suffering some eye discomfort, and I suggested that she look at her eye makeup and eye cream ingredients. She did, and found that a simple product change made all the difference. Maybe I should do the same thing, because it's almost 9 PM and my eyes are burned out like an old string of Christmas lights. So maybe it's just eye cream. It probably has nothing to do with age-related macular degeneration or cataracts or glaucoma or any other of the many blindness-causing ailments that I imagine that I have every time my eyes are tired.

I mean, I don't see any reason why it would.

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Tuesday: The Washington Capitals' Stanley Cup win is fast becoming the greatest financial catastrophe ever to befall my family. Do you know how many Capitals Stanley Cup shirts we own? No, I don't either. I lost count. And here's what arrived in the mail today:

Yes, that's a bottle of wine that I can't drink. 

That's exactly what it looks like: A custom-engraved, limited edition, Washington Capitals 2018 Stanley Cup Champions wine bottle; filled with wine of some sort, I presume. It showed up in a box the size of a dumpster, and I'm sure that shipping alone cost $50. We kept the box. We might end up living in it.

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Friday: Every summer, there's a turning point. Darkness falls a tiny bit earlier, and the air, even though it's warm, starts to develop a barely perceptible but real edge of coolness. The haze lifts and the sky becomes azure-clear blue in mid-afternoon, warmed with a red-pink glow at sunset, which comes just a tiny bit earlier each day. Of course, the hazy warmth will return and linger throughout August, but by the third week of July, it's impossible to ignore the signs of the coming end of summer and the beginning of fall. The pool was noticeably cooler tonight, and even though I know that summer isn't over, I can feel it slipping away. It's always later than you think. I should make that a tag.