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.

There is probably of law of physics that speaks to the acceleration of a six year old boy as it relates to his physical proximity to the adult male charged with looking out for him.

This is nice. Children are in the house. Pallets are on the floor. Sleepers are all around.

Yesterday evening, as my day was winding down, I thought briefly about calling a friend. But I realized the hour was late and the call could wait.

I am suffering the torture of Sisyphus. My boulder is a love of technology combined with just enough brain power to get it to work.

No fireworks to speak of yesterday. Mostly I did the one thing I love to do. Read a book. Almost all day. A sort of fitting book for the Fourth, Freedom’s Forge by Arthur Herman. It’s the story of how American business mobilized to help win World War II. Great story.

Yesterday we got rain in the morning, rain in the afternoon, and a sauna in between. For a brief moment it felt like the Gulf Coast.

It’s raining on the Fourth of July and I saw a frog on my porch this morning. The latter jumped into the lavender. The former is simply falling all around.

Went with friends to visit my wife’s grave yesterday. We hung a little decorative pendant by the headstone. It was made by her Ya-Ya’s at their last gathering.

I spent most of the morning yesterday, in the battle with Khaki weed, on my knees, digging. I think we’re at the end game.

It’s an odd ritual, but before the lady comes to help clean my house, I clean my house.