Still Waiting . . . .

People got really excited and thankful yesterday when they heard rain falling a few times during the afternoon hours. Then it stopped just as many times as it started. 

Maybe this is the big one, I said to Bill while we were both out walking the Lovestead grounds.  I headed to the house so my camera would not get wet. By the time I laid my camera on the kitchen island, the rain had stopped once more.

About two minutes ago, after a dry night, I thought I heard pitter patter so I opened the window up here where I do my computer work.  Sure enough, drops were hitting the tin.

"It started," I yelled down to Bill. 

By the time, I started pecking away at my keys, the pitter patter had once again stopped. Bill told me earlier this morning that there's a 100-percent chance of rain today. 

"It stopped," I yelled to him downstairs.

"Well, that's the 100 percent," he said. 

So far, all the dreams and yearnings for a good downpour here in North Idaho have been drowned out by dry skies and empty clouds. 

We'll see how the day goes.

Yesterday was interesting with all the winds and the dirt and those occasional drops of rain.  I remained in rainy-day mode all day, but something was missing:  the rain. 

I still completed some indoor projects, like cutting up and freezing part of my abundant 'mater crop.  When the winds came, I decided it might be wise to pick the big apples on the little tree. 

Occasionally the pocket knife came out to cut the netting which had protected most of the apples for the past several weeks from none other than the Bambi clan. 

I read this morning on Facebook that I'm not the only mad, disgusted and frustrated flower owner in Selle.  Christa, down Selle Road,  posted comparison pictures of before Bambi came and after Bambi ate all but the stems of her hostas.  

Hostas, like kale and nasturtiums and pansies and geraniums are just not very purty without their leaves.  Poor Christa.  I empathize.

Just like I do with Sally up on Forest Siding and Ruthie out there in Dufort who have all reported the same invasion of their prettyhood. 

It's been a tough summer on the posies, but I've learned in the past several days that those sheets and tarps draped over the plants inside the garden fence do deter. 

The results:  chard is making a swift comeback, baby lettuce is having a chance at maturity and blossoms are popping from the nasturtiums where dozens of blossoms succumbed to the chompers a few nights ago. 

For all who wish to save their flowers, deer do not like sheets or tarps-----just yet anyway. 

My recent retaliation has paid off with a few purty flower pictures this morning.  And, I think it's just downright adorable to have those furry little bumblebees nursing off my marigolds. At least they leave the blossoms in one piece. 

Up with bumblebees; down with Bambi!

In other news, scroll down to the photos from a world far, far away where Annie hoped to take pictures with Precious from atop Mt. Fuji yesterday . . . . 

Foster gets so proud when he can carry the big Folgers can around the fields; I just had to share. 

Welcome to hiking, Japanese-style.  Never in a North Idaho or a Western Washington or even a New Zealand hike have I seen rainbow afro head gear.  I don't know how common it is in Japan, but it certainly is eye-catching.  

I am wondering, however, if it stayed on the hiker's head yesterday because gale force winds and horrible weather far up Mt. Fuji prevented the climbers from reaching the top.

Annie was clearly not happy when she sent a text from the bus taking the hikers back from the mountain, but she did say it was still an amazing experience.  Annie likes to attain her goals, and there's nothing wrong with that.  

She'll just have to go back to Japan and try it again some day.  Heck, I might even go with her.  

Had Bill and I been able to stop off at a "station" aka store along the trail on our recent hike to Strawberry Mountain, I may not have been in such bad shape when the hike was over.

On that hike, I now realize the importance of hydrating (maybe those cramps all the way down the mountain would not have occurred if I had drunk more water on the way up). 

So, having a store partway up the trail where I could sit down, have cup of coffee and stock up on liquids----that would have been nice. 

And, bunking down with your new best friends partway up the mountain, I could have handled that, maybe---if they didn't snore, that is. 

In all seriousness, the Mt. Fuji climb looks like a fun experience even if the ultimate goal had to be put off for another time. 

Can't wait to hear some of Annie's stories when she gets home.  For now, we'll just keep following her journey in Japan and enjoying the ride. 

During that last sentence, I heard a few more drops hitting the tin roof----does that mean our 100-percent chance of rain has increased by ten percent?  

Every little drop counts . . . . as my dad used to say when he talked about the old lady who went No. 1 in the ocean. 

Happy Sunday. And, RAIN, it's okay if you visit us for a little longer. We'll even let you go all out if you wish.