Write four lines of prose about: the patch.
We have about 200 pounds of cherries, 50(!!) pints of strawberries, and other, less numerous things, to sell at the farmers market tomorrow morning. The forecast is currently calling for a 40% chance of rain, with not too much of it expected to fall.
I would very much like for that to become 0%, with a nice dose of sunshine to bring the crowds out. Please. And thank you.
Currently there is an impressive thunder and lightning storm going on outside, so hopefully the weather is just getting it all out of its system now. Also, the power has gone off and on three times in the last hour, so if this is late getting published, that'll be why.
I have spent far, far too much time in our strawberry patch this week. Four hours on Monday, two more on Tuesday, another four on Wednesday, and at least six today (I refuse to make an accurate tally, for fear of losing my mind).
The only reason that I can stand up straight right now, rather than being confined to a wheelchair or permanently attached to a massage table, is that Kat is a trained yoga teacher who knows plenty of tricks to keep my back in shape.