I've finally gotten around to dead-heading the rose bushes, and didn't get pricked once. (No jokes, please.) If my back yard were unfenced, I wouldn't have that task to perform. The deer would come into the yard and eat the roses before they died. But other things would come into the yard, too, and the cats would be most displeased. They are particularly unfond of dogs, and there are some surly canines about who escape their yards sometimes. Thus the fence, and the uneaten roses.
Even with the shortening of the days, the heat continues. There have been years here when September was chill and rainy, but this year the spirit of August has lingered long after it might have been expected to curl up and die from its own desiccating heat. If October is hot, I shall be livid. We're overdue for mildness, and a rainstorm would not be unwelcome. I dreamed last night of Catalina. I've never been there.
In lieu of rain, I'm going to take a longer-than-usual shower, and to hell with the water bill.