This morning Tom and I went to a flea market in Portage. Not really worth the trip, although we did stop and get the truck washed on the way back, so not a total waste. The flea market was at the county fairgrounds, which made me think it would be extensive. Instead, there were maybe ten or twelve vendors, none with anything of particular interest. Not that we intended to buy, since anything we get between now and the move to Madison will just be more stuff we have to pack, load and unload. I told Tom we should have brought a table and put out stuff we wanted to get rid of ourselves. Given the sparse crowd, we might have earned five dollars.
We got a bit of a sprinkle around midday, a brief shower. According to the local newspaper, even after the rains yesterday our area is on still on the verge of a drought. The summer started off well with rain and the corn and bean fields had been looking lush. But I did notice the other day when I was out for a walk that there were places where both crops were looking stressed. The rain we got will help, but we are still behind on rainfall for the year. If the predicted El Niño pattern is accurate for the coming winter, there will be little precipitation to build up some snow-melt to help next spring, too.
On the writing side of things, for some reason my books sales have had a little bump during the first week of August. Not sure why. I am still getting some mileage from the positive review the English friars gave the Gratian volume, and the John of the Cross mystery sold both in print and in Kindle format. Elijah continues to be the steady best seller, if best seller is the term to apply. All that means is that it consistently sells more than my other books. Again, not that any of this is going to bump me into another income tax bracket.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.