I know I have been droning on about rainy days being so plentiful. It has not been my imagination. Driving Cameron to school this morning, I was struck by the visual evidence of our situation. Things looked different – but what? Then it hit me, all the lawns were smooth and even, stretching one into another like an endless fairway.

Of course, people were able to mow on Saturday and trim bushes. Before, the route had seemed lined by a strip of chickenpox grass. You know . . . bump, bump, bump, bump.

However, as far as getting the deck repainted – and we are considering incorporating a design – it’s about seven days of predicted storms and showers. So we will have time to plan out just what colors we are going to use and the sequence in which we need to apply out painter’s tape.

On the other hand, maybe we should have a Jackson Pollock deck. I suppose paint guns from the porch roof is an option. Oh, well, maybe not anymore since the new porch roof has an incline to it

I did not seek this part of weather.com out, but having stumbled on it, I watched the first video and then looked at the rest. I think my favorite is the “weather taxi”.

This LINK should take you to the index of Worst Weatherman videos. Oh, by the way, it’s sponsored by Suburu.

70 big DEGREES and it is sunny today. Tomorrow is also supposed to be sunny. Be still my celebrating heart . . . and my mind, such as it it. I feel like going out and pulling all the sun’s rays into my brain and letting them do their chemical chores. This has been a year of clouds and, for the first time in my life, I truly appreciate how important it is to see the sun at least now and then.  I think I was on the verge of developing “brain scurvy” and I believe I could feel my brain cells loosening and getting ready to fall out.

Here is Northern Indiana we learn to take advantage of sunny days. Heck, when I moved to Sacramento decades ago, I about killed myself taking advantage of them. There were so many . . . every day – on and on – until it started to rain. Back then I was celebrating the clouds and rain the way I am celebrating the sun now.

But what to do about this messy house that is now beyond cluttered because the dreary days have been so spirit-sapping? A magic wand would be very welcome . . . and then there is that granddaughter who wants to make money. How about a Merry Maid uniform for her? Or should I give her a rag to wrap around her head, an apron, a bucket and sturdy shoes.

Then again, maybe a pagan dance to honor the Neatness Goddess would do the trick. I wonder if we would have to get naked? Well, the backyard is fenced in  . . .

Update: Oh, what was my first clue I had forgotten to take my medicine this morning. I’ll go ahead and swallow some pills and see how the naked pagan dance sounds then.

I forgot that the smartest thing to do when one has a slight tingling in the nose is to stay away from certain irritants. I fogot and I went into Rural King and walked down the fertilizer and weed killer aisles.

What I should have done then  -in true 911 fashion – would have been a to drive to Taco Bell. I thought about it but I couldn’t trust myself to stand in line; I was afraid I would run over to the sauce bin and start ripping the fire and hot ones open – snorting them. I would have no doubt screamed, “Give me a volcano burrito NOW!”

Also, I had Summer with me and a taco to her is like a cross to a vampire.

I have ingested Alka-Seltzer Cold & Sinus and have been sitting with my head tilted in the “drip” position. The latter is not working but I believe the former has kicked in some. For awhile there, I felt like clawing my forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks and upper teeth out of my face.

I actually sat here and thought, “Be the nasal passage ducts and feel yourself relaxing and opening up.” That’s a desperate try with alternative medicine, dontcha know. I put a space heater in front of me and leaned into the air flow. My head feels well enough now that I have progressed to the possibility of a liberating sneeze phase. And I have moved my head from the heater air stream and stuck my feet down by it.

Ah, relief.

I did it just a little while ago. I ate what in our house is dog food. I caught myself doing it.

Actually, it is not technically the dogs’ food; it is the dog’s food. Shane is four and Sydney is 14 and you can’t make Shane eat something different. Well, you could, but that might lead to interesting protests.

You see, here’s the scoop: Sydney has chronic pancreatitis and eats pot roast (Manager’s Special) cooked in a crock pot and rice with a wee bit of high end actual dog food added for vitamins.

Yes, Shane and Sydney eat better than we do. But today when I was cutting up the roast into little chewy pieces, I stuck a couple of bites in my mouth. Oh, it was sooooo good.

I thought, “AmeliaJake, you are eating dog food!” Then I looked around quickly to see if one of the dogs had seen me. I imagined Shane herding me over to the Purina Dog Food in the special package and telling me to have at it. Insisting that I chomp down some lamb and rice pellets as well. Not leaving until I had.

Fortunately, the incident passed without consequence.

Of course, you realize I don’t just put in a layer of dry dog food, a layer of rice and a layer of roast. No, I gently mix it with my hands so it is a nice blend and then I put it in the microwave for 20 seconds until it is just right.

I come by this naturally; my dad would buy Socrates and Miss Alice their own Dairy Queen cones.

That reminds me – I need to purchase a single small geranium to put on the place where Miss Alice’s ashes rest. That would be right above my dad’s casket. There will also be a big urn-like pot with with a big geranium, fern and a spike. Shoot, that tugs at my heartstrings.

And now I’ve got myself thinking about him putting out flags on graves on Memorial and Veteran’s Day for the American Legion.  Auggghhh, now my throat is tight.

Okay, I’m adding a quick post because I want to move Summer’s Weeble Dance down where it will not overlap the right sidebar. How about  a couple more pictures from the original and will be again PBC&R.
Now, to truly experience the atmosphere, imagine woodsmoke-infused 8 by 8
150-year-old beams.

Summer and I have some projects planned – painted the winter-worn deck and fixing the grass where Shane has been digging. We went out and looked and decided we would have a little fun first.

I give you:

Summer’s Weeble Dance

Uh, on the other side of the room you can find the cell phone.