40 Days and 40 Nights
That's how long it seems like it has been raining here. I thought it was April showers bring May flowers. More like April, May and June showers bring Jenny's mental demise.
Not that I don't like rain. I love a rainy day where you stay inside and make tea. Just not everyday. And I'm not asking it be broiling hot like where textism is written. (A favorite haunt for the Oliver and Hugo pictures, I once had a weimaraner named Max) But forthelovapete, it's June. I'd like to venture outside without an umbrella!
Note: I will be eating my words mid summer as I watch my grass wither and die.
No comments:
Post a Comment