The sun is back again.

Yes, finally a cool front has moved through and pushed the rain further east. I am so happy about that.

You know, not having a dryer would be ok if:
1. I had a clothesline.
2. It stops raining long enough to actually use it.

I think what I'm going to do is watch a bunch of necessities here at home, then take all the wet clothes to the laundromat to dry. Hubby did find the problem with the dryer, but we have to determine if he can just splice some wiring, or do we need to buy a new part. One of the connections had corroded, and it probably would have started burning even without the flooding. The corroded area is actually above the high water mark, so it's probably just a coincidence. He hasn't had a chance to look at the fridge yet. One good thing about having it emptied out is that I can give it a thorough cleaning. I just hate to waste time cleaning it if it's beyond repair.

Last night was the first night in about 10 days that I picked up my knitting. I finished the third sample sock for Gale. Ok, it's not totally finished as I have to kitchener the toe and sew in the 2 ends, but I'll be finished with it sometime today.

I finally had my bout of melancholy/pity party yesterday as I took clothing to the drycleaners. Yesterday was just so dim and gray, and I felt tired. I'd just had enough. I decided to do what depressed people do - curl up in bed under a cat or two and see if I could sleep through the melancholy. That was when it started to rain again. Deluge. Monsoon. I checked the water coming back into the basement, and it was just a little more that it took to make the floor damp. Anyway, I got into bed with Chubby and Grey, and as I was dozing off, I heard a loud thump. My first thought was that it had rained so much that the trashcan had started to float and turned onto its side. I thought I'd better look outside and check. Whoa! A dead tree had fallen from the neighbor's yard and into the street near my van.

I nearly panicked. And herein lies an odd tale for your consideration. Imagine, if you will, a woman who has had every brand new car she's ever owned or leased squished by trees. The first, back in 1984, the new Toyota Corolla SR5, trunk, roof and back window smashed by a fallen oak while parked in front of the dorm at Agnes Scott College.

The second, the hubby's 1989 Mitsubishi Galant, hit by a large branch from a pine tree at the house we were renting in Decatur.

The third, my beloved 1999 Dodge Dakota, smashed lengthways from end to end by a tree while I was at work in Alpharetta, just 7 weeks short of the lease expiration and turn in time in 2003.

The fourth, the Galant gets finished off by a tree that fell in our yard in Stone Mountain. I don't remember the year.

The odd thing about it is that the trees have fallen on the new cars, not the ones we've purchased used. However, I know better than to tempt the fates, and so when I saw that tree in the road near my van, my heart leapt into my throat. Damn the rain! I grabbed an umbrella and went to check.

Amazingly, the tree fell in such a way that the only damage was pulling the cable wires down. It missed mailboxes, cars and people. No one was hurt. No property damage. No squished vehicles. I was and am amazed and grateful.

Happily the sun is shining today. The air feels drier. It's about darn time fall got here and moved some of summer's heat and humidity out to sea where it belongs.