The rain gauge tells its story:  almost an inch!

The rain gauge tells its story: almost an inch!

The earth is happy today.  Last night it drank long and sweet from the rain falling from thunder-clouds.  The parched grasses and plants and flowers heaved a sigh of relief and this morning they’re waving and dancing in the breeze.  And growing toward the sun with more zeal, already perhaps forgetting the drought-like conditions of the past weeks.

I was drinking outside today, as well.  No, not rain.  No, not anything too celebratory.  Just sipping a cup of hot tea on the lounge chair on the deck, reading a book.  Ahhh…one of the best kinds of outdoor experiences.

It is humid.  Near 80 degrees.  Perhaps hot tea wasn’t the greatest idea.  Perhaps lemonade or ice tea might have prevented the sweat. 

Out in the driveway, a handful of mud puddles almost block the path to the mailbox.

Mud puddles

Mud puddles

One of these years we’ll need to invest in some more gravel for the driveway.  To fill up these holes.  They’re still not that deep, so we hardly notice them except when it rains. 

Mud puddles always bring to mind a childhood trauma.  Seriously.  I suppose you might not call it a trauma, but it was to two second grade girls.  Carol and I scurried outside for recess in our galoshes.  Anyone remember galoshes?  They were slip-on rubber boots that you pulled over your shoes to keep them dry in the rain. 

A mud puddle lay outside the classroom.  We splashed our galoshes in the puddle and smiled and played and laughed and giggled.  Until… (here’s the trauma part)…our teacher opened the door and YELLED at us.  “GET OUT OF THE MUD PUDDLE!”  Because we were both so terribly shy, this nearly destroyed us.  I can remember feeling horror and shame for years afterward.  Anyone else ever traumatized by a mud puddle?

Of course, to be fair, I think I traumatized my own kids the same way.  You kids correct me if I have the story all wrong.  Seems like I remember them splashing and practically swimming in the frog pond one autumn day.  (Or was it in the middle of winter…?)  With my memory, I shouldn’t be telling stories at all.  And yelling, “YOU KIDS GET OUT OF THE POND!!”  They probably were not traumatized.  They probably don’t even remember.

Garden lettuce and spinach delighted after the rain

Garden lettuce and spinach delighted after the rain

Well, I can’t be tarrying any more writing a blog today.  Our son and his girlfriend are flying in tomorrow night and it’s time to do some more housecleaning.  Clean the bathroom, kitchen, vacuum, dust…you know the whole story.  Thank goodness the windows are already washed.  And the basement vacuumed. 

I shall leave you with two tidbits.  1)  a friend just sent at least a half dozen animal pictures.  Yes!  She apparently felt very sorry for my whining blog yesterday about the lack of four-legged creatures.  She works out in the woods and has lots of opportunity to capture wildlife.  She actually recommended buying  a remote camera.  Suggested we would be amazed at the number of animals visiting beneath our deck.  Perhaps I could set up a fund.  Anyone wanting to donate to buy us a remote camera…for blog viewing….no!  I’m just kidding, really!

2)  The robin saga never ends.  The fellow who pecked our window mercilessly all spring has finally given up.  Mostly because we put a screen up over his window of choice.  But, there’s more robin news.  The nest on the windowsill of the garage now sports three new blue eggs.  A recycled nest!  And look at this shot of four more hungry robins with beaks wide open built near the top of the garage.  They’re everywhere, they’re everywhere…

Hungry robin babies

Hungry robin babies