Well, it's June once again. I've always loved watching the yard come alive and putting down new plants and trees to replace the ones that didn't make it. If only we could somehow keep Edgar from adding in his liquid opinion, we'd be ahead of the game. April tells me that there's some sort of pet repellent on the market but that seems to me to be taking the easy way out. Instead of training your dog not to do something, you just spray some sort of poison? As she'd say, whatever.
Anyhow, it's been a typical busy month here. I swear, the housework, like all the course material April seems to have to do to prepare for University, almost seems to create itself. It's as if there's no time for anything. Certainly, no time for Elizabeth to set anything like a date for her wedding. Time enough, though, for her to give that pilot friend of hers the brushoff. From what I understand, his mentor died in a crash and it knocked him for a loop because he seems to have forgotten that the man knew the risks. He seems to have made a quick enough recovery, though. Quick enough to say that he could take Liz away from the only real home she's ever known to live in a state of constant fear for her safety. It almost, ALMOST, seems to me that he was giving her an excuse to bow out and it's an out she took. All we have to do now is wait for Anthony's ex-wife to barge in and cause mischief and after she's been sent packing, we're free and clear. At least I hope she does. I don't like saying this but I'd rather she did that instead of doing what Becky did and admit that Liz was the best for Anthony all along. It would mean that all that drama was meaningless. Things have to make sense, after all.
Speaking of things hat don't make much sense, I almost get the impression that Michael is less than thrilled with the success of his new book. You'd think that a man who's living his dreams would be happier but his smile seems a bit forced. Whatever the reason for his misgivings, I really don't think painting up a bunck of old boxes and starting a vegetable garden is quite the right way to handle them. What message does that send? "I'm too broke to buy my weggies so I have to grow them? Too cheap?" And why do I suspect that That Woman in Burlington is really behind this? I hate her weighing in with her snide remarks about how my family is forced to, in her words, "bolt down my cooking like savages because it doesn't deserve to be savored" not to mention criticizing the home remedies I grew up with. They worked for me, they'll work for Robin. If this keeps up, Mike will destroy everything he's worked for and teach Creative Writing somewhere. Just what he doesn't need; some busybody making him live out her dreams.
Anyway, I have the house to myself for a while because John's at a convention learning about the latest doodads and gadgets so he won't look as foolish as I felt when we were starting out. I'll have to part company with you for a while because this place won't clean itself.