Julember

Such a chilly July. It has felt more like September than summer--low humidity, breezy, temperatures not even in the 70s. Today it might not get to 60. It's October, three months early! My tomatoes may never ripen. But the raspberries will. Oh, they are sweet and big this year.

The bushes actually belong to our neighbors, but some of the berries hang over on our side of the fence. For years, Merry and Randy have urged, "Pick all you can reach!" and we do pick some, but we don't want to presume.

The other night, Merry was out in her back yard, working--they have an amazing garden, and she spends hours out there every day--and an hour or so later she came through our back gate and up to the back door. In her hands: a quart container of fresh-picked berries. Oh joy.

Meanwhile, Abby Jo is settling in quite nicely. She has staked out a few areas as her own: the kitchen floor by the back door, and the back of any couch.


She loves perches.

During the day I am inundated with dogs watching my every move, following me from room to room. I block off the stairs and flee up them to get a little alone time. At night, Riley bounds up the stairs to sleep with Doug. Abby Jo settles down on Riley's fleece bed in the kitchen.


And the injured Boscoe hunkers down with me in our little love nest in the front hallway. Call me weird; I don't care. I am. But Boscoe is happy, and that makes me happy.