mysterious ways

I seriously hate it when I finish a book and don't have another one.  I've read all of the works of one Southern author and will be moving on or backwards, as it were to Clyde Edgerton.  He and Joshilyn and Rick Bragg have shaped me as a redneck writer.  I'm not sure how all your other folks have managed to escape the reality of southern poverty but "good for you!"  Our states are the most conservative and backwards and have been for eons.  'Lest you doubt me, check out Trae Crowder.

Oscar is moving from couch to rug and doesn't know he's about to meet Pearlis on Friday.  It's a test run to see if they can live together for two weeks without a bunch of drama.  I will still have to come and feed and water Al daily but thankfully there's no litter box.  We will survive.  In paradise.

I am aching to see my kids right now.  Everybody is all about buying smoked pork and having family reunions and I just want to hug 'em.  I might buy some ribs, who knows.  This is officially the beginning of the end of summer.  Only it just started on June 20th.  The cicadas and lightning bugs came in on cue and made me want to call my mama and tell her I saw fall.  It rained a lot in spotty places today and thankfully it stopped when me and Joy left Headlines. It was a good day.

I don't like summer at all.  The heat and humidity wear me out.  So does watering flowers and  whatnot.  I'm figuring that next year what perennials I have will survive and come back strong and I will avoid annuals at all cost.  It's nature's way.

^j^