Weight, up. Hmm. Back–okay. Sore. Tender. But functional. Some blue sky this morning, wet, just rained.
Walked in and to the right of the count there are three middle aged guys, each sitting at his own table, each with a copy of the paper, talking to each other–first, about the hail last night, and then about the Minneapolis schools superintendent.
Last night I drove to the Y about 5:30, east-bound down Selby. As I approached the cathedral, clouds were stretching up. Puffs, what had perhaps been cumulus cloud, now tall inverted cones, mimicking the spires that ring the dome of te church. Like slow motion nuclear explosions.
Even from my limited field of view, I could see these sort of clouds rising all around, as numerous as alien space ships in War of the Worlds. Clouds–true opportunists, rising on the updrafts, taking advantage of the moisture in the air.
When I came out of the Y, it was raining, one of those recently frequent nuiscance rains. At this point after all this rain, why bother with the umbrella?
At home, Stella in the back yard, and I realize that there is hail on the ground, yer pea size. At first it looked like fungus or mold until I realized what it was. Stella had a good time eating it, which was interesting.
Dorothea and Liam were at baseball. I called the cellphone. I heard it ring in the other room.
Today is the last day of school. Madeline’s sixth grade graduation was yesterday. Mary and Rose her aunties were there.