We've been in the 100-percent chance of rain for several hours now, and the fun is just beginning.
My friend Janet, who lives in Packwood, Wash., put out a wish on Facebook last night that the rain they were receiving over there on the West Coast could go to another area that needs it.
Since her plea came right in the middle of a nailbiter/somewhat frustrating/Thank-God- they-won ZAGS game, I figure we have a lot more precipitation to go.
I am feeling shades of the Noah's Ark syndrome, especially as I take my doggies (actually three of kind instead of two) outside to find high ground for doggie business.
High ground is at a premium this morning.
That phenomenon could explain the little yellow puddle near the trash can, which Bill announced a few minutes ago.
As for the horses pictured in their stalls this morning, they are now slogging through the pasture lakes with virtually every step they take. The barnyard aka mud hole is off limits for a while.
The weather experts say we have snow coming AFTER the predicted wild wind storm, set to begin at 8 just about the time I publish this morning's post.
I'm figuring on spending a bit of time today with Foster shaking from fear on my lap. He hates the wind, and, as far as Liam is concerned, his reactions are yet to be determined.
I do know, however, that Liam has now displayed a slight similarity to his uncle Todd, the Wonder Dog (Willie and Debbie's). Todd doesn't like loud cheering or profanities of any kind at any time.
During the game last night, I noticed that Liam has the same tendencies.
I only said the expletive once, but I did utter the word with conviction---probably during one of those passes the ZAGS threw directly toward three Griz players with a ZAG player standing behind them last night.
I don't like that play at all, especially when a Griz caught the ZAGS' pass every time it was aimed at their crowd.
So, during one of those turnarounds, something came out of my mouth----like my dad used to say, "I wouldn't have in my hand what you just had in your mouth."
When that something shot into the living room air, Liam winced and whined. So, I restrained my emotions and expletives from that point on.
It's really something when one is virtually housebound almost every minute of the day with two indoor dogs (Kiwi is quite happy and comfortable in the garage).
Kinda reminds me of the days of old, like 1981 or so, when it rained steadily for a month during the summer.
During those long days spent inside, I not only got fixated on "All My Children," but all my children----two of them---got fixated on tormenting each other occasionally while playing with the mini rubber raft in the living room.
They knew how to swim, even back in those days, but I wasn't in to toweling them off every time they left the house during the daily downpours.
We had no high ground then either, but at least they had an indoor bathroom, so I didn't have to take them outside when nature called.
And, I figured they did not need to go rubber rafting around the yard, so the raft came inside to keep them occupied while I watched "All My Children" in more ways than one.
Well, during one moment, when I wasn't watching all my children (either one of them), both of them invented this fun tugging game with the nylon rope on the rubber raft.
For some reason someone----I don't know which one to this day----thought tugging on the rubber raft nylon rope with teeth would be a fun thing to do. Must be they had watched puppies play.
Turns out puppies' teeth are much stronger for playing the "tugging" game than little human girls' teeth. At least, that's how it was with Annie, who was about a year out from tooth fairy time.
Willie apparently was the pullee on one end, and maybe Annie was trying to pull back with her teeth. Again, I don't know the details.
I do know, however, that Annie came to the kitchen with her face slightly contorted like she was gonna break out in a major case of bawling. Then, she opened her mouth.
A lower tooth was gone. Blood was spurting from her gums. I think she may have had the tooth in her hand.
A swift moment of interrogation ensued, during which I learned from Annie that the tooth extraction with the nylon rope on the rubber raft was all Willie's fault.
I summoned Willie. He did not come.
I searched for Willie and found him crouched in a corner---hiding, I do believe----in a bedroom.
He looked so scared that I probably figured he had already suffered enough and had maybe decided by that time that dentistry would NOT be his chosen profession.
Besides, we needed to see if that tooth with its root could go back and stay in Annie's mouth until it truly was time for the tooth fairy.
Twas closing time at all the dentists' offices, and it turned out that Annie simply lived with a gap in her lower gum until the second tooth eventually showed up.
So, that's what happens when it rains too much, at least back in those days.
Since I do not watch "All My Children" any more----just all my dogs----I'm finding that the television set does not help with cabin fever these wet, wet days nearly as much as it did back in the early 1980s.
After all, with EGOMANIAC Donald Trump dominating the air waves----I would be pulling out hair AND teeth, and I don't think my pups would appreciate that.
So, we'll weather the storm----which, by the way is starting its howling effect----and hope that the wind will just concentrate on blowing most of the water away.
Happy WINDSday.
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