On the subject of the eclipse: As I have said here before and as idiotic as it sounds, I suffer from what can best be described as a morbid fear of the daytime sky. It's a phobia, only there's no convenient -phobia term for it.* This was the inspiration for my phrase, "the wide, carnivorous sky." It's sort of like agoraphobia, only more baffling. And the only thing worse than a clear blue sky is a clear blue sky that does things the sky isn't supposed to do. I'll be staying in today.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,472 words on "The Dinosaur Tourist," a new story for Sirenia Digest No. 139. I'd be getting back to it today, only I know that the extreme weirdness of the day and the anxiety the sky will heap upon me is going to hinder and prevent me from getting any work done.
After work, Spooky and I drove over to Swan Point, and I left an ammonite-shaped bead on Lovecraft's headstone, an offering on his birthday. On the way home, we found a rather nice chest of drawers at the side of the road, and it just fit into the van. It appears to have been made in the 1940s, maybe the 1950s. It will replace my old and ailing vanity. We had spaghetti for dinner. We watched Twin Peaks and Game of Thrones. I read "Bonapartesaurus rionegrensis, a new hadrosaurine dinosaur from South America: implications for phylogenetic and biogeographic relations with North America."
* I have used "ouranophobia" in the past, but technically ouranophobia is a fear of Heaven.