What to do

when you live in a place that now goes from summer to summer,



skipping all those pesky seasons in between.



Get naked and irritated? Bash your brother? Clearly a classic option.



These days, we're dry. Parched, baked, scorched, dying for a drink.

And it's a weird thing, doing the Sophie's choice in the yard (this is not my yard). Because all my plants have a back story -- when I moved here the place was bare. So I've known my guys since they were in kindergarten. But I'm going to water some and let others die of thirst.

Is it the Bible or some hippy song that talks about water tasting like wine? Sounds biblical to me. Well, no matter. When you have no water, it's only wine that tastes like wine.