I've been out to breakfast and over to Borders to book browse already this morning. Had to make my way through a cold rain which is still falling. This is the sort of rain our drought plagued state needs, slow, steady and fairly heavy. It was still dark when I went to breakfast, and I asked for a table near a window so I could sit and watch the rain fall through the street lamps, forming dark puddles on the wet, black asphalt.
Didn't do much good at the bookstore. Picked up the first volume in one of David Drake's series that I've been meaning to try. More on that later. Now I'm home, listening to the rain, a sound that I never get tired of and hear far too infrequently of late.