Change of season

Here in the Boston suburbs, I can still take the dog for a walk at night wearing shorts or short sleeves - but no longer both. Despite the remnants of summer haze veiling everything in the sky but Cygnus, it's time to change from the bittersweet relief of gin and tonic to the sweet smoke of whiskey.

Shame we can't change our leaders so easily. Of course, I'd never drink the rotgut moonshine laced with strychnine that the Bushists represent in the first place.