It wasn't just the windows that got rain washed. The goat girls are showered and shiny, too. What leaves are left on the trees are bright green or gold, and the grass (or what passes for grass in my yard) sparkles with droplets like diamonds. Poor old Poppy, on the other hand, is carrying probably thirty pounds of waterlogged wool. Even after a day of sunshine, she still feels like a soaked sponge. Sheila is walking a little spraddle-legged as she yet again refused to come in yesterday. After a few laps around the barn in wet weeds to my ankles, I quit and left her looking at me with that expression that said, "But the game's not over!" Yes, it was.
Give me a little sunshine after days of rain and I am drawn to the deck bench like a lemming to the cliff. After spending a little time outside with Christopher Moore, I got an attack of conscience and went in to run appliances requiring electricity. Fortunately, dusting does not require electricity and I was able to put that low on the list. With fair assurance that the power would stay on, I got a pretty good start on holiday baking. A batch of pumpkin cookies was cooling on the counter when Earle came to pick up milk. I could see his fingers twitching, so said, "Have one." I am still laughing as I think of Earle talking as if to distract me as he ate one..after another.
The rain has brought a change in the cats' and my routine. The storm doors in the bedroom and laundry room swell until, if opened, they won't close again, so winter brings an end to the convenience of just standing and letting the kids in when I'm at the computer. They jump up on the bench to let me know their need, and now I must go to the living room and let them in that door. When I put up the Christmas tree, that door too will be blocked and we will have to go all the way to the dining room. We're none of us pleased, but that's just the way it is.
I heard that we in northern California got over twenty-five percent of our annual rainfall in just five days. I believe it.