Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Be Careful What You Ask For

Californians have been asking, praying, begging for rain and now, guess what...there are flood warnings in the mountains, the valleys, and here in the foothills.  I, here in the house at the top of the hill, am in no danger of flooding.  However, the barn easily could be.  After a night of rain, we caught a break around noon and my milk customer came, as well as Patrick with a delivery of alfalfa and a bag of goat chow.  (I try to time a load of hay when I need feed, as Patrick slings the bags that I find so difficult as if they were marshmallows.)  Taking advantage of the dry spell, I brought up a couple more wagons of wood and then decided to make a quick run to the local market.  Nature had been lurking and no more had I hit the big road than she opened her bag of tricks and poured rain again.

I am not yet in the practice of having to take bags into a store, California having banned free plastic bags.  Oh, they'll sell you a bag (plastic) for a dime each.  I have yet to find the logic in that.  I do keep a supply of bags in the truck (I have a lifetime stock saved); I just don't remember to take them in with me.  "No, thanks.  Just put everything back in the cart."  Inconvenient, but not so bad on a sunny day, having to bag up wet groceries in the parking lot while it's raining is not my idea of fun.

Not content with just rain, Nature decided to throw in a hellacious wind.  I could have taken the trash down to the road on my way to the store, but Bessie Anne gets so excited when I get the bag(s) ready that I hate to disappoint her.  I don't think she likes riding in the truck as much as she looks forward to the treat when we get home.  Consequently, after bringing in soggy groceries, I loaded the soon soggy trash bags and one damp dog and we went down to put the stuff in the barrel.  The things I do for this girl.

Unfortunately, the wind came out of the east, blowing rain into what should have been the sheltered play yard, so two of the dominant goats took possession of the little attached shed while the other three huddled in the lee of the barn.  There was a bit of a free-for-all at bedtime, everyone crying, "Me first!"  Closing doors was all that was necessary in the chicken coop.  "What took you so long?"

Stove continued to gobble up firewood and the rain beat against the windows, driven by the howling wind all night.  It has not yet stopped.  Be careful what you ask for.

1 comment:

Kathryn Williams said...

This reads like "Little House on the Prairie, rather than modern day with modern equipment...I so admire your grit, and can only hope you stay warm and as dry as is possible! Hang in there!