the drought is finally over . . . not so the water tables are back up to speed but enough so the afternoons rains have finally begun again bringing sweet relief to the burnt out grasses, thirsty flowers and sagging brush. Time to drag out the ladder and clean the gutters once again of their winter stash. In the end, I was covered a film of black sludge composed of disintegrated leaves damp from the rain the day before, mixed with roof grit, and moss. Disgusting. But I was proud of my efforts until that days rain proved that although I had cleaned the gutters, the downspouts were still packed and not flowing. Tomorrow will have to be good enough.
So this morning after doing the weekly shopping and being dismayed that it cost $184.00 and change to feed the two of us for seven days . . . when did the price of fruits, veggies, cheese and chicken get so high? . . . I still remember my mother feeding a family of four for $25 a week . . . Sigh. Anyway, I unpacked and deposited myself on a deck chair to finish my newest summer TMBC (you'll have to ask) read and attack the Sunday crossword puzzle.
Warm and fuzzy, I crawled back into bed to catch up on some missing sleep. The phone had other ideas. My brother and sister-in-law are coming to help us devour our Sunday dinner of roast chicken, stuffing, gravy, garlic mashed potatoes, fried rappini, hot rolls and butter and cranberry sauce. She is bringing something ooey gooey for dessert. Yumm-O.
I just seem to be in a rut . . . like the heat . . . simmering, shimmering low over the ground wilting, waning, washing out the sparks of life. Letharic like the cats in late afternoon, I can't seem to rouse. Summer has settled in with its aroma of hot asphalt, musty pond edges leading to disappearing waters, garbage rotting in the trash cans waiting for pick up. Desultory days following one after another. It is time, I think, to pack a bag and hit the road.
