O Say, Can You See?

It happens every year, and every year I am surprised at how little rain it takes to activate the waiting seeds.  There, under the dry grasses of summer, you can see the tiny sprouts of next year's supply.  There are just enough to give a green blush to the goat pen, a promise of more to come.

Even after the fellas showed me a third trap on the new vacuum and me following directions, I continued to have the same problem.  I gave up yesterday and called the help line for the company.  I had to laugh when the nice lady named the few places in California where I could take it for service, none closer than two hundred miles away.  I felt doomed.  There was a pause before she said, "Do you see the little red gizzy (she used a more technical term) on the front of the thingie?"  "Yes, I do."  "Try moving it to the left and then the right.  I'll wait."  Ta da!  She said she had the same model and had the same problem and she didn't discover that trick for a year.  I didn't feel so bad.  By the way, that little red gizzy wasn't covered in the instruction manual.

The rain came and went all day.  Bess and I caught a break between showers any time we had to go outside.  But, boy, did a howler come blowing in after dark!  Nonstop winds and pounding rain.  It is the kind of storm that puts me on edge because rain-softened dirt and strong wind is the perfect setup to fell a tree.  Fingers crossed.

Bessie made a quick potty run this morning without getting soaked before the rain started coming down again in buckets.  We're both grateful for the small things.