I must have greatly upset the gods of summer and their vengeance has been swift. The Greeks always appeased their immortals with the sacrifice of oxen, goat and sheep on big stone altars. This seems a little impractical. We sold our old altar at the last garage sale (Kidding! We would never sell our altar!) and blood spurting out of an animal's jugular makes me queasy. I am wondering if grilling steaks would suffice...
Yesterday morning, Margaret turned to me and said,
"Mommy, are we going to go outside someday?"
I looked at her and her watery eyes and told her the truth,
"No. Now drink your medicine."