I had thought to write this morning about writers but I slipped at the bottom of the stairs and took a little tumble. I wasn't hurt. A bit disoriented is all, but enough to lose my train of thought altogether. When I began this blog the appeal of daily writing wasn't especially strong but has become more so as the weeks go by so write about the fall it is.

The rain continues, accompanied by the small grumbling most people will do after two or three days of it. I must be part fish as it is the other way around for me. Too many days without rain and I start searching the skies. Too many days with too much blue makes me nervous. The perfectly cloudless big blue sky was Alfred Hitchcock's favorite so maybe he knew something about that too. Being as making people nervous was his stock-in-trade.

But today is an important day for gardening with the moon in Scorpio, second only to Cancer for optimum results, so off we go in search of tomato plants. I'm wondering if my passion for rainy days will hold after I've mucked around out there for a couple of hours. Doubtful.