My pronouncement of the end of the ant infestation, I now see, was premature. I worked from home today because of the delivery of Doolies’s gift to the Castle: a beautiful painting that is now hanging the bedroom. While working, I vacuumed up many proto-queens. They are more active during the hot daylight hours. This is why I haven’t seen them earlier: the days have been colder, and thanks to too much traveling, I haven’t been home much during the daylight hours. I forgot how warm Castle becomes when the sun blazes in the afternoon. The three floors act as a chimney, directing the warmth to the third floor, which becomes unbearably warm quickly.

My sickness is almost gone. I’ve been saying that for the last four days with little truth. My congestion has lessened, and only a dry throat and popped ears remain. Any day now I’ll pronounce my sickness gone, only to renege a day (or two days, thanks to a writing-free day yesterday) later.

I’ve returned to the bucks of stars, having given up on the Motts. It’s cool in here, with normal music and a neutral smell. The coffee was bitter and buttery; the characters are less artsy and more exciting. My words are almost gone. I barely managed more than 500 words.

I have tickets to a Sonics basketball game, which I will attend (I bought a fifth of season tickets, and I haven’t been to one game all season). Doolies arrives late tonight for the weekend before she flies to Taiwan and then China. She’ll be back next weekend. Isn’t she a dedicated Doolies?

My words are forced and distant today. I’m seeing two styles of my writing: the conversational and the distant. I don’t always mind the distant. My best imagery comes on days like this.