The Long Rain

The rain continued. It was a hard rain, a perpetual rain, a sweating and steaming rain; it was a mizzle, a downpour, a fountain, a whipping at the eyes, an undertow at the ankles; it was a rain to drown all rains and the memory of rains. It came by the pound and the ton, it hacked at the jungle and cut the trees like scissors and shaved the grass and tunneled the soil and molted the bushes. It shrank men's hands into the hands of wrinkled apes; it rained a solid glassy rain, and it never stopped.

-Paragraph from The Long Rain by Ray Bradbury
ink pens
It's still storming.

It's been storming for what feels like weeks. Consequently, half the state is flooded, and the flooding is going to make food and gas prices even higher because we rely so much on corn crops- and the flooding in Indiana, Illinois and Iowa is ruining some of those crops.

We're high and dry (well, we're soggy but not under water, anyway). I'm tired of the thunder and lightning. It's cool when we're stormchasing, but at home, Casey freaks out, and, if he's in his crate, has gotten into the habit of freaking out in his crate, and somehow managing to push the plastic tray on the bottom of his crate out, and pull all the fabric on the top of his crate down. (Before and After)

My garden, on the other hand, is loving all the water. The pea pods will be plumping out & harvested this week, probably. And the lettuce is out of control. Anyone want a salad?

The grass loved the water too. Between not feeling well and a wedding and all the rain, the first chance we had to mow in weeks was on Wednesday. We were probably a week and a half overdue on the mowing. I'm glad it's done.

And today, more thunderstorms. There's a doozy of a line on the radar headed this way. Looks like fun.