Finally . . .  the rain came.  It has been a while since the watery music of a rainfall .

  Now, everywhere seems to be having some kind of weather.  The rabbitpatch on Bonnet street has been  through a hot and dry spell.  The gardenias will testify to that.  If I had a dollar  for every bucket of water I have carried, thus far . . .

In August, summer flowers fade, anyway.  I have a few pinks still blooming.  One gardenia, still has the gumption to bloom and rewards my efforts with its’ lovely fragrance  , still.  The young butterfly bushes are the only ones not complaining, nor   . . the stalwart phlox, by the backdoor.

Now, the roses lack any boast.  They are alive , and after a hot drought, that is something. There are about a dozen of them growing along a fence.  They are a “motley crew”, gathered from clearance shelves, and folks who were landscaping and tossed them in a rubbish pile.  I did  buy two, that produce three colors of roses.  Usually, roses rally at the first sign of cooler weather.  Time will tell, as it always does.

On Monday, sister Delores and niece Dana came.  We gathered at Mamas’ for the noonday meal.   They are moving to the coast, where Dana will be attending college.  Life has become very busy for them, with the move and college looming ahead.  On account of this, we decided a leisure visit, was in order.

The next day one of my dear friends of several decades stopped by.   We enjoyed  a small lunch while we talked about our grandchildren, figs, flowers and pottery.  Sara and I have a lot in common. The day was so hot-over a 100 degrees- that we did not linger on the traditional stroll around the yard.   Being born and raised in the south, does not make one a fan of hot weather.

I can tolerate heat, I work outside some everyday .   I always have   and when I was a child, children came in to eat-otherwise we were outside, but this is not heat of the yesteryears.  I remember that in 1979, the summer was awful.  I was restoring another old house, that year.  2015 was hot, that is the year that Lyla was born.

 I am in the mood to bake but this season is just  not conducive to sweet breads nor hearty soups. We eat salads and quick meals that do not make the kitchen any hotter.  I still cook in the early mornings, what can “rest” until evening.   Hence I am making pies. . .lemon, chocolate and custards.  When Sara came, she brought me a generous amount of figs, so that helped satisfy my yearning for “kitchen work”.  They are in the freezer now, waiting for Christmas. For me, it is never too early, to think about Christmas.

By mid week, I was back to carrying buckets of water and hanging clothes on the line.  I have to work on “unemployment” in some sort of way, several times a week.  Everything is on line and I am convinced   that many people are not able to navigate this system . I have had to ask for help several times.  . . . and what if one doesn’t have a computer?  If losing your job didn’t shake your confidence , , ,filing for unemployment, will.  I haven’t even looked for a job in 23 years !

None- the-less,  there is a sense of peace that abides in my heart and a sense of certainty that all is well.

Lyla starts school next week.  She will be in the second grade.  In light of that, I hope to get in a visit, this week.  We are going to make an old fashion “magic cake” and I will tell our story, for the doll community is thriving (by now, this could be a book).  I will watch the girls play with “Biscuit” that darling beagle and if it is cool enough, walk by the laughing river.

Just before I leave for Elizabeth City, I will water the flowers.  I have been working on the fence for almost two years now.  It was a bramble of thorns and poison ivy.  Those things can survive a drought. There was also some english ivy and honeysuckcle  . . . I let those grow- and there was another tender vine, that I wasn’t sure about.  The thing bloomed in late summer, last  year!   Little white and   very fragrant blossoms were a pleasant surprise.  I think it is a kind of jasmine. One little patch is blooming, right now.  . . I just might come home to  a delightful  garland of summer snow