The second of the third

We had a wonderful thunderstorm come through about five this morning.  Not any wind and only enough thunder to get my village idiot barking and running around the house briefly chasing the noise.  I don't know whether that's a real sentence and don't care. 

An hour's more sleep with the rain pounding on the pergola roof and the promise of a good steaming cup of Pikes Place Roast running through my head.

Finally, both idiots needed to go outside and I had to get out of a decent dream which I could not remember if I even wanted to.  Another bad sentence.  Live with it. 

I opened the door and it sound like an aviary outside.  Evidently another flock of robins were working their way north and were very happy that the rain had ended.  And so another day begins here in Shangra La, south.