The Burrow

It rained all night and half the day.  That hasn't happened in a long, long time.  I turned off the irrigation system, which made me smile, and drove to the Pilates Diva with my windshield wipers on slow, intermittent, wiping six or seven droplets at a time, doing their very best with what the world provided.  

At Bookmans, my favorite used book emporium, I found 4 pristine copies of Horton Hatches the Egg, lost then found my car keys, and dodged the raindrops with my face upturned to catch them.

My woven sneakers got sloppy wet as I tromped through the Costco parking lot.  Yes, I tromped.  There was no avoiding the puddles, so I decided to enjoy myself. 

It was even more fun walking back to my car.  The puddles were deeper and there were more of them.  

Lifting the flats of sparkling water and the I'm So Glad You're Back in Town bourbon for Not-Kathy was surprisingly easy.  I attribute my strength and fortitude to the fact that I sweat wasn't dripping into my eyes as I bent and lifted.  Raindrops are much more pleasant.

I got home and took G'ma's silver ice bucket and the new container of silver polish outside and began removing a decade's worth of tarnish.  The instructions insisted that the polish be used in a well ventilated area; this is the first time in months that it's been cool and breezy enough for me to get to work.

Lady Jane suggested that I use Hagerty's polishing gloves.  We agreed they would make for a much more sensuous experience than wielding a thin sponge.  It's supposed to rain tomorrow morning.  I may run to Bed Bath and Beyond first thing.

It's raining, and Tucson is smiling.