Edmond is drowning.  I understand Miami and Vinita have gotten twelve inches.  It’s better than the hot weather of 100+ last week.  I’m not complaining about the rain.  It’s been cool most of the months. 

My publisher never showed up.  No bound copy.  Why I expect her to, I don’t know.  I guess I am the eternal optimist.

The only problem with this much rain is the weeds are loving it.  Every time it lets up I pull a few, but the weeds are winning.  The grass loves it too, but Ruiz keeps that cut.  I make sure I have cold Dr. Pepper when he gets here for his crew.

I’ll say this for the Mexicans.  They work.  You can’t drive down a street in Edmond without seeing a group working for the city or caring for lawns and shrubs.  I haven’t seen any others--white, black or polka-dot, doing this work since I moved here.  One of them told me they work until they get a down payment for a house.  Then share it with two or three families until they get a down payment for another one.  “Eventually we get the first one paid for--and buy another one.  We help each other.”

I find that very inspiring.  Coming to America because you can work, and make a living as you make a future for your children.  (Legally of course.)