and gloriously dramatic thunderstorms, we're now back to the intense heat we've been having for the past month or so. Apparently, the hottest summer here sunce 2003....which makes up for the dreary and miserable non-summer we had last year (the worst since 1911). As the thunder grumbled and cracked and roared overhead, we threw open all of the windows as wide as they'd go, to allow the cool air to flush through the house and get rid of the increasingly sticky atmosphere that has built up as the temperature has built and built and built in the course of July....
|The lane, from the door to the Cantina, after the rain|
The mosquito population was decimated (temporarily, at least) and the dust was firmly settled (ditto).The Cats watched, with sanguine nonchalence, from the Barn, and the four-footed watched us watching the rising level of the water in the courtyard (it came up, it went down, it came up again, and went down again...but on this occasion, at least, it didn't come close to coming in). Then, once the rain had stopped, he ran around in the long grass, getting gloriously wet, and giving himself the equivalent of a much-needed blanket bath.
|Four-footed, posing, while Grey Cat attempts ineffectually to flirt with him|
And for a few hours, while the temperature was lower, and the air fresh and clear, there were sounds from around the place of people actually engaging in activity...voices, and far-off hammering, and the sorts of noises that suggest movement and things in-train. All of which has now stopped, and the more normal sense of exhausted silence has descended once more.
Which reminds me, that it's about time to retrieve a book and a glass and find an appropriately placed deck chair.
|The agrumi garden, looking lush, as the sun comes out again|
Pork chops, with wine & sage sauce; sautéed potatoes