Oh come, never come, oh come, never come, oh come to me, beautiful rain...

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It's a lovely gray rainy day in L.A. Frodo is curled up in my lap and Casey is stretched out on the rug. I have a window open to listen to the sound of the rain. Perhaps if we're lucky we'll get some thunder. Gotta go bring in my herbs in a bit here, as they've been out getting a good soak but need to rest now.

I went out this morning to Trader Joe's and the farmer's market. There's a great oyster stand there, and I stopped by as I always do for a single glimmering gem. Cold and sweet, with just a wash of seawater. I thanked it for its little life and then downed it with a (very small) passion, its watery essence swimming in my mouth, a swirl of surf and sea coursing down my throat, wavelets of reaction reaching outwards to the tips of my limbs. Ah, Mama dear - you really should be called "Ocean."

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