Day of the Dealt Hand, 11th of the Dog Days, 526 M.E. (Betelgeuse): U.S. Senator Lindsay Graham has died, age 71. Impermanence is swift.

I did not care for the politician and even though I did not know him personally, I imagine I would have liked the man even less. Still, a life ends and that in itself is sad - a tragedy, although an inevitable one. All life ends. Impermanence is swift. I'll leave the obituaries and the political analysis to the pundits, and if you want snarky remarks or performative tributes, open social media. Your mind is already made up about his legacy and there's nothing for me to say.

I cut my walk short today after a 1.9-mile Washington when I saw an approaching thunderstorm. I got in the house not five minutes before the wind started whipping and the thunder and lightning started crashing. But I wasn't sorry to cut things short - it was so humid today that it was unpleasant just being outside, mush less exercising. But still, a Washington - barely worth lacing up my hiking shoes.    

The storm has passed but I just took out the recyclables and it's still yuck outside.

Meanwhile, these languid days and nights continue to pass as if in a dream. I missed the anniversary, but as of June 30, I've been retired for seven years, and have pretty much managed not to do even a single productive thing.