Happy had planned to go outside and work in my little garden, but it's (thankfully) raining. I love the sound of rain, the feel of rain, the thunder cracking across the sky. Waxing poetic over the summer storm as I am also unplugging the power cord from the mac and running it on battery power.
Hubby and Happy Appy bought this house a year ago. The original house was built in 1920-something (the newspapers on the cellar ceiling are fascinating, if you don't mind reading up-side-down). Our electrical box looks to be dated sometime in the last century - but not touched in the last four decades. Electrical box is an elevated linguistic term for the box in the cellar that houses the fuses and wires.
At first we were charmed and thought the flickering lights meant the presence of a benign ethereal house-guest, but we've since deduced that it's simply really really really old wiring.
The Grapehouse Garden Spot, before the rain:
