Sunday

The storms begin at 6 in the morning.

Ed, I can't go out to feed the kitties.
Why not?
Listen to it! Another clap of thunder.
Then don't go.
You think it's safe, don't you?
Of course I think it's safe.
Oh fine, I'll go.

The kittens get none of my friendly voice and sweet rubs on the cheek (well, only Dark Pink and Dance let me do that). I am in and out in a flash.

By late morning, all the nastiness has moved to the east. I snip some spent buds, Ed rototills the pathways.


(garden views)











Breakfast: quiet, lovely.





Afterwards, Ed does a quick inspect of my car.
Nina, do you ever check your oil?
Well, I mean to do it...
It's below even the "minimum" line! How did you get it to run down that much?
Um, well, ah, so.... maybe we should bike to pick up corn!

 (Did you know that our corn farmers also raise and sell Scottish Highland beef? Here, look this sweet cow in the eye and apologize for your love of hamburgers!)






The afternoon is full of chores and errands, including picking up three quarts of oil for my car. Three quarts! I vow to do better going forward.

(Along the road to Walmart)






And in the evening, the young family is once again here for dinner.

(Talking to her sister...)











(An evening romp, as she and Ed go out to feed the animals...)






Late, when all the dishes have been cleared and cleaned and darkness has fully set in, Ed and I bring out the popcorn and turn on a movie. As I get up to fetch a cool drink, I see it again: the frog visitor. He came in from the porch a couple of days ago and we naively thought we could catch him and let him out. He was quicker than either of us.

Tonight, we're more careful. Ed comes in from the porch, I'm ready to throw a bowl over him in the kitchen.





And still he gets away! But he leads us to the secret little hole in the corner of the porch used by him and possibly the occasional mouse that looks for shelter in our basement.


So, maybe frogs rather than crickets  after all?