Alleluia. The mulch is moved. The new bed is complete. Took long enough. Although, I really can’t remember when I started it. Back before last Christmas, I believe.

There’s a lovely chill in the air this morning. Feels like fall. It’s Monday. I had a good weekend. Music every day.

I love the moon. That little after thought in space that shines with the reflected light of the sun. It comes out when the buzz of the day is done, and Apollo is off being a star on the other side of the world.

A torrential deluge gifted us with a half inch of rain yesterday afternoon. It fell so hard and fast, however, that most of it probably ran off.

I labored on Labor Day. Mowed the back lots, mowed the front, and had a good ole time. I pulled weeds. Got my hands dirty. Got down on my knees. Raised a sweat.

It is cool outside this morning. There is a heavy dew. Days of rain are starting to pay dividends. The coral sage is standing tall with tons of red blooms. The pink Turks caps are full of flowers. The little persimmon tree is putting on leaves. Even the tiff grass yard has returned from dormancy with sprigs of green. There is life in the fields.

I have three little crape myrtles, black diamonds. They once lived in the southeast corner of the yard. They failed to thrive. I moved them to more fertile soil on the back lots by the pool. They failed to thrive.

The sage is in bloom. I’ve waited all summer. But the sage likes rain to bloom. None came. Now it has. Rain has fallen. Two of my three plants are resplendent in their glory of purple and gray.

My geology books have started to arrive. Got a small one on volcanoes and another on how our continent was formed. I really want to know the story of the terrain from Fort Davis to Study Butte.

A journey into the Davis Mountians to look at rocks and wonder how they got there and where they’re going.

Took a nice walk in an old volcano yesterday. The weather was fair, there was a quick breeze blowing, and the slope was gentle. The scenery was majestic, towering rock faces, blue skies, white clouds, a million years of life all around us.

I was attacked at the gas station yesterday. Totally unprovoked in my opinion. The attacker obviously had different ideas.

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.