Tuesday 30 August 2005
PM

The portulaca are only now, in this yard anyway, beginning to come into their own. Planted too late, not as much sun as they like, so on, so forth.

Here in my swing, it's so peaceful. A vehicle just roared by, but sounded like a distant jet. The wind is coming through the trees in waves, shaking the leaves on the east side first and then gradually rustling the ones in front of me, and finally rattling the ones on my left.

Nights have been balmy. Gorgeous coupla days, may they last long.

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Wednesday 31 August 2005
PM

Not to be. I woke up at midnight and went around the house, shutting windows against the rain. It looks positively drenching out there, and I haven't peeked beyond the door since this morning, when the boys left and Sara the Hound poked her head in for a quick pat.

Now, though, it seems safe to go without an umbrella, which is a good thing, because I don't have one. Saskatchewan people don't always have umbrellas; it's rare you see one in use around here. They'd probably blow away if you walked down the street with one. The umbrellas would blow away, I mean. Though with the wind in these parts, it wouldn't be such a far stretch to imagine taking flight oneself.