This was Friday evening as the dramatic storm clouds rolled through.
The orioles are doing their best to eat me out of house and home.
I put eight pounds of oranges out on the trees yesterday morning, keeping a second eight-pound bag in reserve.
Husband observed, "I see you bought oriole food.""You can have some too . . . if you want to eat bird food."
On my last round about the yard tonight, I saw that the birds have worked their way almost down to the rinds.
Husband is whittling away at the supply.
Imagine the poor wild birds having to go find their own food...
Olga says she's saving her old sheets to protect the garden. This afternoon I folded up a whole lot of old sheets that have found new lives as dropcloths in Husband's workshop. He was on his way to snooze for a bit, said, "If it starts to rain, tell me. I have to bring in the dropcloths that I put outside."
"What? You want me to wake you up if it starts raining?"
"Well, why don't I just go bring them in now? I know it's going to rain."
So I did (Good Wife!), and he was a happy man.
The sun came out again and he never did fall asleep. But the dropcloths are picked up and folded tidily and stacked on top of a saw.
I think it's a saw: there's a lot of stuff out there that looks to me like Industrial Age sculpture.