The rain that is flooding towns all around Chicago has done my garden wonders. More cucumbers are bursting forth, tomatoes are filling the vines, and the flowers have gone crazy. Illinois soil, even the urban stuff around here, is so much more fertile than that sandy, dry crap I had in Florida. Hell, it was hard to even grow weeds in Florida. The dogs have discovered that their favorite tomatoes are back. They love the little pear shaped, yellow tomatoes that Mark grew last year, so I planted a vine at the edge of the garden. Chandler and Scout have been snatching them off the vine for the last week even though they aren't completely ripe. Over on the other side of the yard, the golden raspberry bush I planted last year has gone bonkers. The branches hang low with the weight of ripe fruit. These raspberries are super sweet, and super delicious. All summer, ever since they've been ripe, I've been picking them and eating them right off the bush. Like a feral pig, I root around in that bush every day, looking for ripe berries. It turns out that I am not the only pig in this sty. Mark also has been eating them right off the bush. Yes, it seemed like the perfect treat every morning, a handful of delicious home grown raspberries. And then, as I sat in the back yard Saturday while the dogs wandered around in the grass, I saw Chandler sidle up to the raspberry bush and pee on it.