There’s a heavy wind this morning. No idea what that means. Just disturbed air going from here to there in a hurry. Meanwhile, we bounce from the 70s at night to near 100 in the day.

My affection for barn swallows is diminishing in direct proportion to the number of active nests on our porches and in the garage. The number is currently seven. Sometimes I feel as though I’m living beneath a highway overpass.

Well, I’m back at it. More music yesterday plus a doctor visit for an unexplained pain, which got explained and at least it’s nothing serious. The music was in a hot hall, and when I say hot, I mean hot as in oven hot.

God bless the afternoon thunderstorm. I have no idea where they’re getting the energy to fire up, given how dry it’s been, but they’re firing up. Yesterday, I got a tenth of an inch on the homestead.

Woke up. Got out of bed. Went outside to see the sky. It was cloudy with flashing lights. A storm has brewed and is heading my way.

This feels a bit like spring. A nice cool morning over wet ground. Of course, June is right around the corner, and we’ve had plenty of hot days. So, I’m guessing this is probably a false positive.

No rain. No growing grass. No weeds. No mowing. Normally, this time of the year, I’m busy pulling stuff from gardens and mowing, but we seemed to have reached a sort of stasis.

Spent most of the day yesterday piddling around the yard. Put up some stray yard tools, picked up miscellaneous bits of trash. Put out the re-cycling.

It’s a cool morning in the Hill Country with still air full of birdsong. It should heat up later today. Fixed a toilet yesterday.

Our juvenile trees are enjoying the wet spring. They’ve done a good job of growing up, but now branches are pushing away from the main trunk.

There was a second big storm yesterday. This one brought hail and rain. My son and I pulled our vehicles under the carport and watched the ice fall.

A terrific storm banged and rattled the house last night. There was thunder, there was lightning, there was wind. There was very little rain.

I mowed yesterday. Mostly from force of habit. No rain means no grass to speak of, only the little weedy plants and they’re not that tall.

Walked outside this morning to clouds and a little drizzle. But it’s only a hint of rain, nature’s way of flirting. We’ll see what comes of it.

You might say I had a dream last night. Or you might say I had a thought in a dreamlike state. At any rate, an idea came to me as I lay in bed.

Another holiday weekend is in the books. Of course, this was a big one, a major Christian holiday, and I suppose it remains to be seen how everyone lives the message.

There is a little know law of Texas geophysics which states that in any sequence of post holes at least one hole must encounter a rock of significant size, particularly if the holes are being dug in what appears to be good, soft soil.

We had no rain to speak of this past winter at our house. No winter grass sprouted in the yard. For the longest time I despaired of seeing spring. But like love, it found a way.