Life Saver.

From your pal and mine, friends and fans of moments of grace:

A cloud, the exact color of the boy's hat and shaped like a turnip, had descended over the sun, and another, worse looking, crouched behind the car. Mr. Shiftlet felt that the rottenness of the world was about to engulf him. He raised his arm and let it fall again to his breast. "Oh Lord!" he prayed. "Break forth and wash the slime from this earth!"

The turnip continued slowly to descend. After a few minutes there was a guffawing peal of thunder from behind and fantastic raindrops, like tin-can tops, crashed over the rear of Mr. Shiftlet's car. Very quickly he stepped on the gas and with his stump sticking out the window he raced the galloping shower into Mobile.

Been a little hot of late. Dry. We are, as always in August, trying to bake ourselves into cinders. Looks more and more promising this afternoon, though, each time I look out the north- and west-facing windows. Just past our ninety-five degree front porch heat we do seem to be developing something of a darkening sky. The NOAA folks are even saying maybe go and get your lawn chairs and tie them off to something. Let's hope, let's hope. A good storm's been hard to find.