A Good Long Drink
Rain rain go away. Am I really saying that? No. But it’s not enough rain to do any good, and plenty enough to make a mess of the garden and leak through the ceiling into the guest room. It’s not like back east, where rain is followed by sun and all the dampness burns off and the plants are happy. This rain is followed by fog/clouds/overcast; tomatoes rot, flowers sag, roses never open. Dreary me what a mess from a little spitting.
As for the ceiling—I thought we’d fixed that a couple years ago, but something’s amiss, drip, drip. Scurry scurry.
The bright spot in the day was family dinner—tomatoes, cucumbers, and squash fresh from the (wet) garden, Mr S’s world famous grilled chicken, apple pie and good company. Life is good.