Rain, wind, the creek is riz, like that around here. Poured last night, been raining or drizzling all day. We have some friends coming over for dinner, up this way from down the corridor on spring break, and I was planning to grill some burgers. Probably still will, unless the sky opens up. I can stand under the roof overhang and cook 'em. Want to use the grill around here, you have to get used to a little rain. Not like Michigan or the Dakotas where they grill in hip-deep snow, but it's not L.A. where if two raindrops fall, the Los Angeles River overflows and the city sloshes to a halt, either.
The house is clean. I walked the dogs, dried them off. Got the beans in the oven to bake. While avoiding work earlier, I put some music to "Details,"
a poem Tiel wrote, just happened to fit well with the old blues progression for "St. James Infirmary." Did a few pages in the space opera. The usual ...
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