See, a mere twelve hours later and my funk is totally gone, so nobody get too excited over my morbidity. It happens. You wait it out.
Husbandly One has popped in to work for an hour while I sit here and listen to the rain. "Will the sun EVER come out again?", I asked him before he left, totally serious.
"I really don't know, dear," he replied, again totally serious.
To say that summer has been cancelled in my part of the world is putting it mildly. How my poor, struggling garden has survived so far is anyone's guess. Everyone I work with is still winter pale, no suntans to be seen on anyone. And our lawn grows and grows and grows, without enough dry weather for us to actually cut it. Surely August will be better. We deserve it.