When a good wind blows, the air around the house is full of crape myrtle blossoms, little bits, blown from the big trees.

Last year, today marked the 50th anniversary of my wedding. This year it’s just another day.

It’s a wonder what two inches of rain will do for a landscape. Everything softens. New leaves pop out of the trees. The grasses spring forth.

Had a dream about my wife and slept right through a thunderstorm last night. In fact, I thought the thunderstorm was part of the dream. Nothing but snippets left this morning.

The mesquite is in bloom. I wonder what sort of news that is in the insect kingdom?

I had a gloomy spell yesterday afternoon. I was driving through the countryside on the way to hear music, and it swept over me.

There is nothing like having a friend tell you about music that makes their heart beat faster, then discovering after you listen to it, that it makes your heart beat faster, too. It’s a little Velcro hook of a moment that helps hold a relationship fast.

I meant to go sit in the pool last night. Never did. Don’t know why. It’s funny how you can get an idea early in the day to do something, and when the time comes it just seems like too much trouble.

Went to listen to music last night, with friends. Had a couple of beers. Had a random thought.

Somehow, I’ve lost my morning slippers, which seems a hard thing to do considering the size of my house (small) and the size of the slippers (large, they’re Crocs). But let’s pause right there.

Pro tip. When your big riding mower has trouble starting, check all the electrical connections.

I’ve had a series of spirit lifting days, mostly filled with music, satisfying work, and good company.

Out in the garden, out in the yard, out in the everywhere things are growing.

There’s a flowerbed in the middle of the tif yard just off the southern porch. We used to grow tomatoes there. Now it’s home to a batch of schoolhouse flowers, wild onions, a lantana, two turks caps, a Mexican plum, a palmleaf mistflower, and johnson grass.

The temperature is rising. A man can work up a nice sweat working in the yard. That’s what I did yesterday, worked up a sweat.

I’m going to naturalize another weed to a role in the garden. Although, I doubt the plant will have any idea what’s going on. It will put down roots and grow.

I had something to say, yesterday. Now I can’t remember what it was. Dang.

I suppose I should be happy I’m still alive and have things to learn, because there’s only one way to graduate from the school of life.

Muggy morning. Boo. I prefer cool and crisp. It’s good though. The general consensus is that a month of rain saturating the ground might make for a cool July.

There’s a persistent little weed in my garden. It looks like a grass but has stems that are so weak they fall over. It’s one shining attribute is a tiny, two-lobed blue flower that appears every morning before disappearing around noon.