Sunday, July 11. Grilling. The grass needs cutting, but it won't stop raining. Standing water all over the field in front of our house, enough to make the crawfish start digging chimneys again. But the grass has never been lusher. If you tripped and fell on it you couldn't possibly hurt yourself. The two big live oaks are looking healthier than ever, too.
Good news on the oil-spill front. BP is lowering a new cap that they say will fit much better than the current one. It could not possible fit worse. They say that the old one is catching some of the oil, but there's still a ghastly billow emanating from it.
Mary Leigh was across the lake, moving in her society. Mary Ann and I went to a movie, Grownups. It's the first Adam Sandler movie I've seen that wasn't completely dumb. In it, he actually portrays the rational guy. But he's getting older. Nobody gets away with being a goofball his whole life.
I ate no food today worth talking about.
