and that after a night of heavy rain! I practically leapt from my bed this morning hoping to see it all gone. Guess the joke is on me.
The rain did not work nearly as well as this did a couple of weeks ago...
~and away those bankings go~
Last night as I was
putting slathering my lotion on, I noticed a cricket on the windowsill. He was on his back, poor fellow, and flailing. Oh my. He seemed to have been half-eaten.
Know anything about that, Fioré? Hmmm...
Anyway, I grabbed a bit of tissue, dispatched said cricket, and tossed him into the waste basket. I climbed into bed and very soon the air seemed to be filled with the pungent aroma of cricket juice. Let's just say that I spent my night dreaming strange dreams; the story lines of which would rival any of those created for The Twilight Zone.
Recently, I found a little book of James Whitcomb Riley rhymes. One perfectly reminded me of a little snowball eater I love.
Jakob has never met a chunk of snow that he didn't like. (Just look at his expression!) And, oh yes, he is often reminded of choosing wisely. ☺