Annual report

By the time the solstice arrived Wednesday morning, the rain had ended, with no sign of returning. Probably sooner. We could see the sliver of moon to the west walking home from the game last night.

After Rachel came home she went to the neighbors for cat duty, but she was stymied by a large spider, and I tried to talk her past it, but ended up going over to help.

It was a late night and therefore a somewhat difficult morning. Fortunately, we had decided not to require Rachel to attend 7 a.m. basketball practice. But I still had to bike Eric to school just in time to join his line going into the building.

Wednesday evening, Nicole was working on her application for a 0.2 math teacher position at Lydia's middle school next year. She got that submitted, but ran out of time for WNBA all-star voting.

Colin and I are back to reading Eragon, having finished and returned House of Many Ways. I've also completed Inherent Vice, learned the meaning of the title in the context of nautical insurance, and moved on to A Canticle for Leibowitz. It's not too late to achieve my 2023 reading goal, but like the Storm in the third quarter I have fallen perilously far behind.

Here is a Collomia, or mountain-trumpet. We have not planted many native annuals. In fact, this was the first one, when we acquired a few last year. They were supposed to reseed easily, but I didn't see any growing this year until I found this the other day in the fig pot. There may be another nearby, but it's not as far along. It promises spectacular flowers, but I don't know if its line will continue without companions.