San Geraldo hates the rain. San Geraldo hates the clouds. He hates the damp chill. His usually varied and interesting vocabulary has been reduced to the use of one adjective. "Frickin'" he mutters.
"I'm sick of this frickin' rain. I'm sick of these frickin' clouds. This frickin' weather sucks!!!"
Beginning Monday, it's supposed to be partly cloudy (or maybe it's partly sunny) for at least a few days before the "frickin'" rain returns.
I'm very happy about that. I'm frickin' sick of listening to San Geraldo complain. (And, OK, I'm getting frickin' sick of this weather, too).
(Click the images and find some frickin' hope on the horizon.)
|SATURDAY AFTERNOON. MUDDY WATERS.|
|SUNDAY MORNING ON THE TERRACE.|
SAN GERALDO FILLED A POT WITH A VARIETY OF AMARYLLIS.
THIS IS THE FIRST TO BLOOM.
|THIS MORNING ON THE WAY TO COFFEE. A BRIEF BREAK IN THE RAIN.|
(AND A MESS TO BE CLEANED UP ALONG THE SHORE.)
|AND THEN THINGS SUDDENLY CHANGED.|
|THE REMAINS OF A DOUBLE RAINBOW THAT WELCOMED US HOME|
AFTER A LATE LUNCH (IN THE POURING RAIN) WITH FRIENDS KRISTINA AND MATTI
(WHO PAINTED RAINBOWS ALL OVER OUR BLUES).
"I've been waitin' my time just to talk to you..."