Under the weather

Yesterday Danny and I headed to the Fergus Highland Games. It would have been my first time. Halfway there the sky opened up—not just a little rain, but a downpour to turn any field into a lake. We turned around, stopped to buy local corn and other summer delicacies, and returned to our cocoon.

I've been reading voraciously. Last post I forgot to count that book of short stories by LeGuin, which makes six books in ten weeks. I started a Guy Gavriel Kay novel day before yesterday and already I'm halfway through. It's like I'm making up for lost years, setting things right with a cherished lover.

Today we were supposed to attend Les's summer barbecue, but I didn't have the heart to go out. I'm tired, and this has been my first quiet weekend at home in ages. As it turned out, more thundershowers came through, so we would have been cooped up indoors with unspecified numbers of people. Instead we stayed here.

Such a wet summer is unprecedented. Have we broken any rainfall records in Ontario? The river has never been so high, except in spring.