Last fall, I placed this pile of beautiful colored leaves on the cabinet, and it has been there ever since, undisturbed. I have dusted around it occasionally. It's there to remind me that fall will come again. No matter how hot the summer burns, relief will come, will come.We have had some light rain yesterday and today, much appreciated by all, including my poor plants. I've stretched the garden hose its full length, and toted gallon pitchers of water here and there, throughout the dry spell. But there's nothing like rain. Nothing in this world.
Willis came this morning to collect his ladders and a few misplaced tools, and his final check for work done. His brother, whom he calls Bubba (I haven't heard his real name), is Willis's opposite. W. is medium-tall and stout, with blue-black hair shot with white, and a deep suntan. B. is very tall, so thin you want to hold your breath around him so he won't blow away, pale of complexion and gingery-gray of beard and hair. I resisted the impulse to hug their necks; they'd probably be horrified.
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