Slight Detour: So Many Drips . . . .

I said to myself, "Pretend you are in Ireland."

That suggestion would be my mood-altering approach to taking the dogs outside in the dark of a morning dominated by rain.

Just hearing the emphatic drip drip of rain made me reluctant to go outside, but dogs needed to do their duty, so it was a must.

This actually is the time of year here in North Idaho which feels most like Ireland with all the lush new green grass quickly emerging from winter brown. Plus, the persistent and very wet rain added the final touch.

It was, indeed, wet outside.

Dogs needed extra toweling off, while I'm still feeling my wet pant legs as I type and a wet pony tail.

The precipitation seems to be settling down a bit, and, maybe by the time I go out to feed the horses, it will be less relentless.

I'll fed them in the barn this morning because Steve, the farrier, is coming at 10, so maybe he can trim their hooves inside and out of the rain and mud.

Just when the place had almost dried out, along came the drip, drip, drip. It's been hanging around for a couple of days.

Weather forecasters are even talking snow between now and Friday.

Not a happy thought but typical of North Idaho where we've been trained to tear into outdoor work quickly because these weather events can stop our progress at any time and quite often.

So, forget painting the fence, wait a couple of days to use the lawnmower again, plan more indoor projects and try not to grumble.

The latter is usually the most difficult.

Not much we can do, though, but grin and bear it.

I can always get in the car and take pictures of wet stuff like I did yesterday afternoon.

Foster and I drove the Gold Creek/Rapid Lightning Creek Loop, and, yes, we did see more mud and more water, although the rain stopped occasionally.

I think a neat coffee-table book idea would be one featuring images of egg-for-sale displays along country roads.

They're often creative, and the price is usually right.

My favorites are those who advertise "farm fresh eggs."

Those three words are powerful in making you just want to stop the car and go buy a dozen or two.

I like this sign because it has a lot of information, even the fact that nothing happend [sic] on Upper Gold Creek Pass that day.

I, of course, zeroed in on that "nothing" burger because it was my birth year, and on that very day my friend and Sandpoint High classmate Karen Arndt was born BUT apparently NOT on Upper Gold Creek Pass.

Next year there needs to be a gathering at that spot celebrating the 80th anniversary since "nothing" happened on Upper Gold Creek Pass, and maybe invite Karen along as an honored guest since she "happened" that day probably at Bonner General.

I think the "thank you" to the plow guys is nice, and we know the elevation.

Good tone overall.