Another day on the farm . . .

Light drizzle . . . in other words, we're soggy here yet again. Oh, this is depressing, so later I'll dig through my fabric and embellishments for crazy quilting. That will bring a smile to my face. :-) Must remember to find that Nova Scotia Tartan I have stashed away. I really have to get busy on the CQheart promised to Ulla in Sweden many moons ago. Then it's time to concentrate on those UFOs, right? Right! Digging in storage bins and doing some handwork should keep the body moving enough that rust developing from the soggy weather won't gather too quickly and cause a 'total work stoppage.' My Dream is safely under an afghan here on the loveseat beside me. She most likely is considering how she might do a reversal of that Basenji stowaway of long ago and make her own way back to Africa and the heat that Basenjis love to bask in. In the meantime, as her devoted slave, I will keep her warm and dry with a supply of blankies always handy. I've heard a few birds singing this morning . . . the dear, brave souls . . . but none have appeared. Not a crow or even a seagull has flown overhead. The hummingbird feeder sits alone there suction-cupped to the dining area window. Perhaps there will be some activity later in the day. Earlier this spring we had a groundhog staying in the corner of our stonewall near the garage but he left either before or during the big rains of May and we haven't seen him since. He was doing too much of a demolition job to our stonewall and he never once offered to replace any of the stones he shoved out into the driveway, so Good Riddance I say! Besides, we didn't need any extra vet bills brought to us via fights between him and the dogs here.

Cyalater . . .