I never expected to be well into July and hoping for a dry day. But I am. I walked out to feed the cats this morning, and there it was, drizzle. Of course, having experienced more than one drought in my lifetime, I am still good with a drizzle or any other manifestation of rain. It’s just that a short break would be nice. All I need do, however, is look west and realize the alternative is pretty nasty. So, you can see, it’s a back-and-forth sort of thing.

The rain held off long enough yesterday that the grandkids got a final dip in the pool. I came home from my haircut and there they were, with their mother, bobbing like apples in a barrel, smiling and laughing. As grandparent accessories go, a swimming pool appears to be a good deal. I wish I’d had one when the first two grandkids appeared. All we had, however, were piles of leaves and access to good parks.

This morning the house is once again a silent, solo place. No pallets on the floor, no cot in the corner, no daughter in the office upstairs. The cat has come back inside, having run when the little feet appeared. In a minute or two, I’ll take my coffee and go stand on the porch until the mosquitos drive me away. Then I’ll come back inside, fix breakfast, and just like that another day will be underway. Tic-tock.