by 
Friday evening the neighbors had a weenie roast. The guests were Abigail’s volleyball teammates and their parents, at least some of them. The occasion was, well, there wasn’t one. Kari said each family is supposed to host a “dinner”, which means there will be a lot of dinners since there are 12 players. Kari drew the short straw, I guess, and had to go first. It was really a nice evening. There were some clouds in the west that kept the sun off early on and the evening was comfortable, just about right for an outdoor get-together. Another mother organized the whole thing and people chipped in with drinks and dishes, so Kari didn’t have the whole thing on her shoulders. Joyce and I showed up for hotdogs and left when it was smores time.
Abigail’s team played in a tournament over Thursday-Saturday. Joyce and I went to the first game Thursday evening, which the Lady Rebels won. Then Saturday we went to their first game in the morning. They played Plainview, handled them in the first game, lost a close second game, then blew them out to take the set. From there it was on to the tournament championship against Caprock. The Rebels took care of the Longhorns in two games and went home with the trophy. It was a fun way to start off a long weekend.
Joyce cut the first of our front yard watermelons early in the week and if it wasn’t the best watermelon I’ve ever tasted it was so close it would be hard to tell the difference. We collected the remaining five and took them down to the mancave. Part of one was served to guests Friday night. After picking the melons, we disposed of the vines, which had already started dying. The whole process was so easy and it looked like there had never been a watermelon there when we finished. We do have another vine, a late bloomer, but one that has several melons on it and at the rate they are growing I’m confident these will be ripe before first frost. It was planted with a salvia and although the melon sprouted, neither it nor the salvia prospered, so sometime in July I moved the salvia to another spot and both responded to their new situation. I guess they just didn’t get along.
This time last year the next to the last guinea was consumed by something, leaving just one. We wondered how it fare on its own. A year later it is going strong. Though it still roosts at night by itself in guinea tower, it hangs out with the chickens mostly during the day and seems content. Also last year at this time, we returned home from a visit with the Shewberts in Red River to rain. It’s been three weeks since we’ve had any and we could use some. Two years ago it was bone dry and we were praying not just for rain but a wet spell. Well, we’ve certainly had that this year. April through August must be the wettest on record, or very close to it.