After nine straight days of temps above 90 (and mostly in the triple digits lately), there was finally some respite last night as the mercury dropped back into the 60s. We comfortably slept beneath a quilt for the first time in weeks but were awakened by the sound of - not a baby, but good guess - the heaviest rainfall we've *ever* heard. (Okay, so everything sounds worse when you're just waking up...) It was supposedly a 100-year-storm, but as I learned from spending way too much time googling around on the Web, our measly three inches of rain in six hours doesn't qualify. It's supposed to be something like six inches of rain in twenty-four hours. Whatever. It was a lot of rain!
And the gardens loved it. The morning glories were true to their name when Jackson and I went out to check on things this morning - glorious. The skies were still overcast, but everything was crisp and cool with drops of rain still clinging to the leaves. If my garden could sing, this would have been the King's College Choir concert.
The Boy is out with his dad now on a walk and I'm about to head out to collect all that basil to make some pesto. I've been meaning to clip it all day, starting from when we went out to take these photos, but it's not exactly easy to harvest herbs with a baby clinging to you. He tends to grab for the scissors. So, we're content to stroll through the gardens and enjoy - occasionally grabbing a low-hanging tree leaf (Jackson) and squealing with delight (both of us) when we see big, bright flowers.
Pesto! Pesto. I must go get the basil. I have limited time in the kitchen these days (limited time doing anything alone!) so I must be efficient. Pesto from the basil, fresh tomato sauce from the CSA toms, and something else...what else was I going to make? Ah well. It will come to me. Maybe... Soon enough the Boy will return and we'll have bathtime redux in our bathroom. All's well.