Friday, July 06, 2012
The soul-scorching heat this week has sapped whatever sanity I once possessed. I'm either cowering in the AC, bemoaning the fact it's 102 in the shade, or wandering my desert-like yard, sweating through every inch of clothing, as I try to save what few plants haven't croaked. The day lilies are gone, with a few exceptions, the rose bushes look peaked, (a Southern expression meaning they're not in good humor), the flower boxes droop pathetically, and the grass has given up the ghost. We have West Texas hard pan out there now. Even the weeds have given up the ghost. Can't wait for the rains to come. And they will. Just as the next sentence will come when a story seems stuck. I believe in the power of words and rain.