We are under the shield of overcast from Fay. It's dark like it wants to rain but so far only a spit or two. The trees toss with strange smelling breezes - winds from somewhere else. Nothing left for this one but as much hand stitching as it take to hold front to back respectably. I rushed the building of it this morning and the side borders are a bit wonky. Just thinking about hurrying is a signal to me that this is the last of the Flings for this year.
I have prayer flags promised and not being much a a prayer, I'm at a loss for the moment. It will come.