I have good Guy Cotton raingear but it did not matter last Thursday. A few of us hardy folks needed to work outside. I cannot remember being wetter and muddier. The jacket pockets were actually filled with water and the sideways rain telescoped down the zipper into every cranny of my clothing.

The puddle of outer and inner wear formed a somewhat compost heap on the bathroom floor. Nevertheless, the plants and trees are loving it.

How about the Kousa dogwoods this year. There is one at the old Stanley Murphy art gallery, now operated by Kara Taylor. It has so many flowers it’s a wonder it can hold itself up. Mine are in the shade and are not nearly as nice.

The entrance to Heather Gardens has a white and pink one that seems to be white with a pink skirt. Also check out the Betty Corning clematis on the sign post. It followed the earlier blooming Montana.

The multiflora roses are in full bloom and everywhere they are threaded up into trees and all along roadsides. There is quite a patch near the picnic tables at Scottish Bakehouse. The ones at my house are becoming a problem. They are impossible to control. Never, I repeat, never plant them.

The locust tress bloomed for about five minutes. By the time I noticed they had seen better days.

Recently, while weeding, I kept seeing movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a chipmunk carting off super ripe strawberries one at a time. Some were the size of his or her head.

I wondered why I was picking so few when just last week they were covered in flowers. I tried to be angry but it was pretty darned cute.

My vegetable garden is rapidly turning into the Cobbler’s children’s feet. Gardening for a living causes some serious neglect at home. For two nights in a row, Violet and I were too exhausted to pick, wash and prepare a proper meal and picked up some very unsatisfactory and pricey take-out. We vowed to avoid pizza for the rest of the summer.

Speaking of take-out, I did have possibly the best sandwich in years at the Katama General Store, made by Chef Charlie. It is called the Shroom. It featured Island grown shiitake mushrooms on focaccia bread. Martha’s Vineyard Mycological of Chilmark is the supplier of the aforementioned mushrooms. Credit goes to Tucker Pforzheimer and Truman French. These shiitakes are available for home cooking at Cronig’s, Black Sheep, Morning Glory Farm, Rosewater Market and Alley’s. Way to go, guys!

One garden mishap as a result of last Thursday’s heavy rain was the peonies. Never one to stake in a timely fashion, mine are sadly all over the ground and the neighboring plants. Live and rarely, if ever, learn.

One thing I have learned in life, however, is some sort of social good behavior unlike our present occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania avenue. When he is asked a question he doesn’t like, he cuts the questioner off with a rude “Excuse me.” Of course, we know there is no excuse.

It must drive him crazy that they caught him on tape insisting on a redo on a video because his press secretary coughed. No matter, he’ll deny it with a “Fake News” tweet.

He started his 2020 campaign this week in Florida. Silly me, I never knew he stopped. He’s been campaigning since inauguration. He’s bringing out the same message of anger and victimhood. It’s becoming old, tired, and boring. I get it. So am I, but I’m not the boss of the free world.