Summer Is Icumen In

And I'm done with the wigs, except for fun. If you see my pink scalp shining through what's left of the hair, just think of the old saying "less is more." In my case, the less hair, the more coolth.

Thunderation. Even though I cringe, squint and grow faint in the sunshine (not to mention sweat), I think it has rained just about enough this month, thanks a lot. The basement is still dry, and I'd like for it to stay that way.

The lilies of the valley are growing like weeds, that is six of the ten that I planted. I think the others are dead, but time will tell. Breck's still hasn't shipped my astilbe.

There's an ant heap in the slight bank in front of my mailbox, and this afternoon the inside of the mailbox, including all the mail in it, was covered with ants and their eggs. They must have been working all weekend to transport all that stuff up the post. Fortunately, only one piece of mail was a keeper, a book I had ordered from Bookins. I left the mailbox open, hoping the next shower will wash the ants away. Weird things have been happening with all this rain, such as soap suds coming out of the tap in the kitchen.

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(Added about 5:30 p.m.): When I went to the post office today, out of the corner of my eye I saw a gentleman at the big counter in the lobby. I said, "Hi!" and he laughed and said hi back. Then I saw that it wasn't Vann, but looked a bit like him. He said, "I bet you thought I was my brother."

I said, "For a second, I thought you were Vann Cleveland. Are you his brother?" He said no, and told me his and his brother's names, but of course I forgot the names immediately. He said he surely was sorry about Vann's illness, and I said me, too and told him Vann's my brother-in-law and who I am. He said his brother is married to Jane Wright, so we're all related in some fashion.