Every day is Sunday

 

When the fireworks go off every night for a week.

Four in the afternoon yesterday. This was the third thunderstorm of the day. It got so dark that the solar Christmas lights wrapped around the mailbox garden came on. Within the hour, the sun was back out and everything was steaming.

The girls love hanging out on the high deck in the sun. They know I'm not likely to come out there after them. In case I forget, they have a big pan of rain water.

 See my sunflowers on the dye deck? 

The fireflies and bats come out at night.

Inside, I've cleaned and replenished my stash. Now I have to wait for my right arm to rest and recover.

I'm adding new sets of threads to the store.