Wednesday, July 8, 2015


I'm thinking it may rain forever. At least it seems that way sometimes. Our recent spring was one of the rainiest ever. Summer has so far been unseasonably rainy. It rained yesterday, is supposed to rain today—in fact, the sky is dark and I hear the not very distant rumbles of thunder—and local weather oracles predict rain every day but one through next week. 

I probably should have planted water lilies instead of gladiolus.

Ah, well, the truth is most of the flowers which have managed to not drown are doing rather nicely, what with the cool temps and ample moisture—though they've certainly had to make efficient use of whatever irregular flashes of sunlight came their way.

Naturally, any brief intermission from our extended monsoon season has invariably occurred on days when I had to spend most hours sitting at my desk, pecking away at the keyboard, in an attempt to remain gainfully employed. 

Still, from time to time the pull of that rare sunlit world beyond the windowpane proves irresistible. So I leap from my chair, grab a camera from a nearby counter, and bolt through the door to scurry about the yard for the next twenty minutes, snapping images like a madman. Therapy to calm my soul. 

The three shots of various summer lilies were made day-before-yesterday during one such fleeting, sanity-keeping breakout.       

Friday, July 3, 2015


My daughter, son-in-law, and most-delightful granddaughter, Anya, along with their longtime best friends and their twin daughters, all headed off this morning to spend the holiday and following week being Buckeye beach bums at Hilton Head, South Carolina.

A pretty cushy getaway place if you don't mind sand, surf, sun, seafood—and judging by recent news reports, possibly the occasional sneaky shark. I hope they have a fun vacation, and pray nobody gets fish-bit.  

Meanwhile, Myladylove and I will be holding down the fort here. Our plans include much relaxing, grilling and consuming various good eats, working a bit in the yard, and in my case, continuing with my healing—which may to the untrained eye superficially resemble seriously lazing about, but is actually a medically-proven therapy technique. 

In addition, while my immediate kin are galavanting off to enjoy themselves on the Atlantic coast, Myladylove and I volunteered to dog-sit Gwynn (short for Guinevere), their perky cream-champagne maltipoo. We picked her up last night and to our great relief, she proved everyone's fears groundless by making the 40-minute journey from there to here without getting car sick—which may be a personal first.

But I don't want to give the wrong impression, she's actually a nice little foo-foo pooch—eager to please, well behaved, and always an all-around good houseguest. And, of course, she's been here before—though never as the only dog in the house. 

But I'll still miss having my world-class grandbaby to tease, smooch and dandle. 

Therefore, by way of compensation, while the deserters, er, vacationers are gone, I intend to do my very best to turn the dainty Miss Gwynny-poo into a full-fledged redneck river rat. And I must say, so far the plan is working. She's not only proving to be easily corrupted, she's embraced this laid-back lifestyle makeover as an enthusiastic accomplice!

What can I say…revenge is sweet!