Tonight, and the weather, and my heart

I visited Vivian tonight, and she was dear and tender and delightful and disappointed that I won't be allowed to see her for another two weeks despite her requests, repeated tonight.
I'm always heartened and dashed in equal measure after the visits.
So.
A bath tonight.
And walking tomorrow morning at dawn.

And there is beautiful music in my life as I settle in to work on the third and final critique for delivery tomorrow (draft will be set aside to percolate before a final form for delivery tomorrow to the writing group). The library discussion forum posts are in for the week as well, and my questions about the local law library have been sent. It's all nearly squared away for the week.

The weather continues to leave me limp.
There is the promise of storms and a return to autumnal clime.
My phone has decided that I shouldn't be bothered and ceased connecting calls, which is as delightful as it is irritating, and perhaps moreso. The replacement phone shipped today.

The cover of The New Yorker this week features a lovely summer landscape with a gorgeous couple on a lawn while others lounge about in the distance, basking in the sun, she stretching under a floppy straw-brimmed hat, he relaxing in the shade in a suit with a lime popsicle (or possibly pear; it's hard to discern flavor from color).  The veritable image of late summer cool in the face of withering humidity and lingering lazy heat that refuses to acknowledge the turn of the calendar, the ringing of the school bell, the shift in the nightlife. "Leave the chairs on the patio," it seems to demand, "and buy another dozen Italian ice. We aren't going anywhere yet."

I want to frame this one.