Drizzle, Drizzle, Rain, Repeat

That's been our day today.  It was glorious when I got up at 6 o'clock (too early) and still 65 degrees so I yoga-ed on the patio for what is probably the last time in 2017.  Look at that sky.  You can see the gray clouds sliding in from the southwest.  Just after I finished my practice I felt tiny drops on my skin and by the time I rolled up my mat and got myself and my electronics inside it was starting to drizzle.  And some form of precipitation has been falling since.  Sometimes it's just misty but mostly it's an annoying drizzle with intermittent drops.  

The rain made the carpet of leaves that the city tree trimmers left on Friday look really pretty though.  And when I spoke to one of the trimmers he said he's an arborist so I asked him to look at my maple tree.  He said it's fine, that sugar maples live a long time.  Whew.  I hope he's right.  I'm not sure he is but I have my fingers crossed.  (no, I'm not typing with fingers crossed although I'm making enough typos that I could be)


Continuing in the "rainy day" vein, I looked out the kitchen window and saw these droplets on the crook holding the birdhouse.  The first shot I took was distorted by the screen so I went outside, in the rain, and picked my way through the dead bleeding heart and around the fading fern fronds to take a halfway decent shot.  (hey, when you don't have anything worthwhile to write about you take what you find)


I bought a $3 hardbound notebook at Office Depot the other day and didn't know why.  Now I do.  I printed a story in it today and had an illustrator do the pictures on the facing page.  We plan to continue since the first story is such a hit and we enjoyed the collaboration immensely.



October 22--Anonymous, Camels in Front of the Sphinx and Great Pyramid, Giza, Egypt.  The sand went on forever, rippling like the sea but hot and dry.  Both the desert and the ocean are unforgiving but Beth thought that the ocean seemed friendlier.  The desert sands were indifferent, abrading the skin and stinging the eyes, not soft and smooth like water which also wears things away but not with the stinging grit of blown sand.  She thought of how a child loves away the satin binding of a favorite blanket by running their soft baby fingers across it day after day.

And then I fell asleep.  I looked up just now and, even though the sky is solid clouds, for just a moment the sunset turned whole world pink, even the air looked pink.  That's quite a trick.  Time to reheat some pizza leftovers.  We're eating low on the hog tonight.  Curried shrimp is on the menu for tomorrow though.  Yum.
--Barbara