Mom says we should be grateful it rains around here, because so many places aren't getting any and they are at risk for fires. I know she means well but I'm beginning to feel a bit waterlogged.
Every day this week we have had sudden downpours, and then fifteen minutes later it stops and the sun comes out. The weather liars say it should be sunnier the next few days. I don't even mind it the hots come back if the sun is out.
Every night after she gets home from day-hunting Mom has had to tip over her garden pots and let the water run out. She says her some of her basil is suffering, that it's yellowish and spindly. Still, she made a batch of pesto last weekend, so that's good.
Mom says she's been wrestling with words for her talk in Saint Loo-is later this year, but really, all she's been doing is tippy tapping on her little lapbox. I've been napping in all my cool spots, avoiding the flashy box.