I've had the best day today because Summer is finally officially over. To celebrate the first day of Fall, Sister See and I bought matching pink corduroy jackets. We are always doing things like that. The only thing that kind of tainted it was eating a peppermint lozenge (proffered by Sister See). I knew that the similarity of the peppermint lozenge's texture and taste to the pill-version of Peptol-Bismol (which I actually like in pill form if I am really sick--but I don't like it as a "treat" in the check-out line) had the potential to be extremely nauseating. Nevertheless, I took it from Sister See in good faith, which was a mistake. That little lozenge almost brought the house down--my gastric house. I wasn't so close to vomiting that my mouth was watering and those glands in the back hadn't started to have that swollen feeling yet but I would say I was at about 4 alarms which required me to close my eyes and put my fist to my mouth and take several deep, slow breaths to stave off the vomit. Say what you will about those lozenges--they are potent.
No one noticed me because Sister See and the check-out lady were busy counting the 70 pieces of gold Sister See had brought to the store to pay for her goods. And by that I mean 70 gold dollars she had received for her 70th birthday which we had carried to Walmart in a rather large prescription pill bottle with the peppermint lozenges. After the money was counted she looked up at me with her big watery generous eyes and offered me another lozenge. I was still reeling from the first one and--though I was, on the one hand, appreciative that she would offer me her last lozenge I was, on the other hand, disgusted by the prospect of choking down another chalky minty sickening piece of "candy." One hand went to my heart at the thought of it while I braced myself against the counter with the other. I could feel a deep grimace on my face even as I fought to stifle it. I think I managed a very polite "No thanks," considering the circumstances.
Something like that might have really set me back yesterday, when it was Summer. But today it was just so much water under the bridge. Why, you may ask, do I hate Summer and love Fall? Because Summer is awful and Fall is much more to my liking. And that my friends, is a good example of what "begging the question" really means. There's no need to say "that really begs the question. . ." when what you mean is, "at this point it makes sense to ask. . . " because that annoys some people--not me. . . especially in the Fall when I'm in such a great mood.
At this point it really makes sense to point out that petitio principii (begging the question) would be an awesome name for a spell in the next Harry Potter book. Preferably one that brings Dumbledore back to life. Why do I believe Dumbledore is alive? Because I know in my heart he is not dead.
Even in the event that Dumbledore really is dead, Happy Fall. You just can't beat it. Please don't say anything about how Utah is a desert. I know what I'm talking about (as evidenced by my use of Latin above).