oh, journals

I found this in my notes today. It's something I wrote back towards the end of June, a brief descriptive journal of the summer thus far. I made myself laugh a little.

--

The wind outside is blowing enough to toss the tree branches from side to side, and it looks like they're playing with each other. The sun is brilliantly gold on every bit of green and not too hot today. All the same, I shall probably soon be called to water the flowers outside that my mother has been planting in recent weeks. There are daisies, lilies, and many others of various shapes and colors whose names I do not know. They are beautiful as long as the sun does not shrivel them and the deer and beetles do not eat them up. Both situations are in constant danger of happening, which makes my mother upset.
If it happens that all the flowers should die, we shall at least have the tomato plants still living, as long as the rabbits and groundhogs do not dig under the fence and eat them, and as long as the ants do not go around building anthills nearby and getting ideas. The ants really have quite the audacity. A few months ago we found an anthill actually inside the house, which was appropriately horrifying to everyone. Thankfully, there are also lots of spiders in the house, so the ants are mostly dead now. I like spiders as long as they are not crawling on me, biting me, or sitting in forbidden places like my clothes drawers.
That is basically the sum of my current summer existence--sunlight, flowers, and insects.
No, I am probably lying. There are other things happening as well, but they don't matter so much to me right now.

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I particularly like the line about spiders. It's true.