In the Eye

It was not raining yesterday morning.  Hopes were dashed, though, when Bess and the cats and I took a turn around the deck and looked up.  (That sounds like we're on a cruise ship, which would be funny had we not been awash for days!)  The photos, top to bottom, are north, east, south, and west, and, while we were standing in sunshine, obviously we were just in the eye of the storm to come.  The clouds were marshaling their forces, circling our little wagon train before the attack.  Even the brief glimpse of the sun was like being plugged into my personal power source and I rushed to get the morning chores done while still energized.  When the rain came in early afternoon, it came in buckets, a downpour, a deluge.  It blew in waves past the windows.  It came from every conceivable direction.  Who would have expected a monsoon season in Fair Play?




There's not a cloud in the sky today.  Hope springs eternal.  An out-of-town, first-time guest is arriving on Monday; a roommate from high school whom I have not seen for fifty-four years.  I had thought to get the place spiffed up for her first impression, but the yards are so waterlogged, I don't think I'll be able to mow before she gets here even if it stays dry in the sky.  I guess we'll just have to be au natural, ratty-tatty yards, soggy paths, soaked goats and all. 

I am reminded of a time years ago in West Sacramento when an appraiser was coming.  I'd said at work that I wanted to leave on time so I could get the house picked up.  A coworker laughed and said, "Get real.  You have a pig living in the living room!"  (Louie, my pot-belly, was still a piglet at the time.  He was box-trained, I should add.)  Now I have sixteen chicks in the laundry room.  And I'm worried about the yards?

The computer gremlins will not let me edit for composition, so where the spacing appears is at their whim, not mine.  It's pretty obvious I'm in charge of very little around here.  That's okay, the sun is shining.  It will be a good day.