I've always said how much I love the rain. My children have grown up, witnesses to the fact of how much I love it. They, too, love nothing more than to venture out ~ well clad or not so well clad ~ to frolic in pure fall and inhale the pre-pavement ozone. However, ... in a (usually) dry land, endowed with a generous impermeable membrane, the results of a deluge of spring rain can be rather chaotic. Hazardous, in fact.
Such was the case today. Rain fell and fell some more. The Machinist scurried past my office with broom in hand. Before long, the Machinist and his girls all had brooms in hands, sweeping the twiggy, gritty, weak gravy mix that had started, quite rapidly, to pool into our workshop. "Quick, pick up the electric chords", the Machinist urged. The puppies (they're fully grown, adult dogs, but we still call them 'The Puppies') retreated, tails between legs, thinking that they had done 'bad' things. Mi Lad, the cockatoo, started to retreat further into the workshop as well. Not because he thought he had done something bad, but because he didn't want to get his claws wet.
Favourite Son was frantically digging a diversion channel at the front of the workshop. His overalls, so thoroughly drenched, looked like blue, droopy, excess skin. Rain fell harder, and the Machinist and his girls resembed broom machines as they methodically and rhythmically pushed the murky waters out of the workshop, into the already bulging stormwater drain. Had it no end?
Just when the Machinist began making plans for greater protection, the downfall eased to a drizzle. Favourite son called us into the deserted country road and egged on by his mischievous sisters, here he is, semi-clad in the make-shift wading pool, which we call the main road of our tiny Village. The other pic shows how our workshop was flooded.
At least the orchard had a watering! Greenlife is, in fact, greener. The air is fresher and our swimming pool is spilling over....