It's two weeks now, and the main computer is still in the incompetant clutches of Best Buys. Never again! Boycott the Geek Squad!

I have Immigration Monday cobbled together. I have a new writing for you. When the computer returns, and we can access our picture files again, I have the final entry in "Wastelander UK" for you. So check here for sporadic outbursts.

The garden is rich and wild out there. One sunflower survived the depredations of the rabbits, and it's taller than my daughter. The shasta daisies and columbines have come and gone. But it's a riot of butterfly bushes and snapdragons and geraniumns and alyssum and nasturtiums and weird obscure fancy plants and a tomato vine that is roughly the size of our Honda. They like the hot humid weatehr. I don't. I hide from it, and don't even go out to observe my mad meadow in bloom.

Chayo, however, does. She is rewarded with repeated hummingbird visits. They love the blue morning glories. She is intimately involved with all the breeds of butterflies that now crowd the yard. And just today a small mystical dragonfly followed her around. The spirits are whispering to my wild-girl.

We'll be putting up some pictures when I don't have the time or energy to write.

I had to miss the funeral of a dear friend this weekend, but Immigration Monday will talk about her.

Check it out late tonight.


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