All I needed was the right word from the weatherman.  And yesterday morning, he gave it to me.  There is going to be a record setting high temperature this week.

I got my daddy's okra seed, a shuffle hoe, and made trenches in my raised garden.  You don't need a measuring stick or a special method.  Dig a one inch trench, over-seed with too many seeds, and cover it back up with dirt.  You can thin it later.  Done in ten minutes.  The rest is up to God.

Now I have to wait.  That's the hard part.  Scott said he bought my Jet-Star tomatoes.  Now all I have to do is get them from him--a hundred and fifty miles away.  He said he would drive here and plant them for me.  That isn't reasonable.  But I'll figure something out even if it means I have to plant another tomato cultivar.

Which would mean leaving the house to go to Lowe's.  I'll have to think about that for awhile.  Do I want Corona-virus, or tomato plants.  Probably the only thing that could tempt me to venture outside to a store.  

I've been in the house for thirteen days.  Except for the day on the street playing my marimba.  But none of us got within six feet of each other that day.  It's okay.  I really don't mind.  All I need is an occasional phone call with a human voice on the other end.  Texts are nice, but human voices are music.

I just finished the book of Jeremiah.  Over fifty chapters.  I underlined all the verses that I want to read again--maybe fifteen.  It's a depressing book.  I think I'll chalk it up as done, and next time I'll read the good parts.  God was angry at his people and telling him what was coming next.  They didn't listen.