Arid II

The cold, dry air crinkles the dead leaves that now crunch underfoot when I walk through the yard. Nobody will sneak up on the house. I'd hear their footsteps long before they reached it. No need for any fancy electric alarm system. Not that we've ever had a burglar here, but in case we get the first one ever, he's doomed.

If only I could have rigged an alarm to go off when the spaghetti sauce I was making tonight burned. Now I have a pan to scour. Dumb.

Wet!

So last night, a couple of hours after I posted another entry about how dry it has been here, rain began falling. Had I known how easy it was to get rain to fall, I'd have done it weeks ago. Now here are other important things I'd like to mention: I have never won the lottery; my hairline is higher than it used to be; Portia sticks her claws in my leg every time she gets on my lap; the handle is broken on my enameled sauce pan; the Republican Presidential candidates have never all dropped their pants in unison during a televised debate.

The rain lasted about six hours, and today there was sunlight, though it had little warmth in it. The pillow in the chair the feral cats sleep on was damp, so I gave it a few minutes in the dryer. When I put it back all warm and toasty, the kitties were to busy playing to try it out. Maybe that's a good thing. If they knew I could heat their pillow they'd probably be demanding it all the time.

Less than a week until the winter solstice. It will get colder, but at least the days will get longer. I'm tired of seeing it get dark at five o'clock.