Summer has deserted us and La Nina, that wet, cyclic weather phenomenon has us in her thrall. The garden is sullen and prematurely aged, leaves have fallen in anticipation of an autumn which should not happen for a couple of months yet. Closets are musty, shoes sprout gardens of fungus, fruits and vegetables refuse to ripen, all in all a rather dreary season. There may yet be a burst of Indian summer which will give the coup de grace to the plants and cause a stampede to the beaches to refresh pallid people before the winter chill.
At Casa chaos, house guests have departed leaving mountains of laundry to be got dry in between downpours, clothes dryers having been shocked into silence by the receipt of our last electricity account. Even the solar cells on our roof are not enjoying the weather, production is down by at least 25%.
Thus a suitably gloomy etegami, the words are a ditty chanted by children, petulant at not being able to go out to play, I know how they feel.
At Casa chaos, house guests have departed leaving mountains of laundry to be got dry in between downpours, clothes dryers having been shocked into silence by the receipt of our last electricity account. Even the solar cells on our roof are not enjoying the weather, production is down by at least 25%.
Thus a suitably gloomy etegami, the words are a ditty chanted by children, petulant at not being able to go out to play, I know how they feel.
