My second-least favorite time of the year. I confess I didn’t really mind it very much until last year, when it seemed like water management was all I did for three months. Today I’ll be out tending my ditches.
It rained off and on much of the night. Not hard, but enough to wake me with ‘what’s that strange noise?’ and make the boys anxious. I fear we’ll get used to it.
One benefit of last year’s excessive rain was a desert that thought it had died and gone to New England…
…and that was actually kinda nice. But all I really remember about it was mudslides, erosion in places where it had never happened before, and a great deal of ditch-digging. And sogginess. And a wash that sometimes ran twice in a day when in previous years it might not run twice in a summer, which made travel – any travel at all outside my own yard – an interesting exercise in timing. And terrifying torrents of water from the sky. More ditch-digging. And mud, of course. Lots of mud. Mustn’t forget the mud.
So forgive me if I’m not cheerily chirping about how “we need the rain.” I’m not a farmer. My attitude toward rain is like unto that of a politician toward austerity: Sounds like a great plan – you should do that right after I’m dead. I had a lovely anxiety dream just before dawn about a collapsing roof. My ex-wife was in it.
For the record, my roof is in great shape. My walls need to be finished, but…
Haven’t you heard, the SouthWest is in a drought. Are you trying to destroy the gloabal warming affecting the weather meme? Oh, wait! We can say that all tht rain is because of global warming and call it climate change instead. no worries
Oh, it has been quite dry since last summer. There was hardly any snow all winter, and barely occasional sprinkles since then. But last summer was far too much of a good thing to please this grungy desert rat.