Greetings and salutations, everyone; yes, once again it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, here to bring you the latest damp news from our rainy garden. You may remember me from such rain-related posts as “It Raineth Every Day” and “Waking Up To Rain”, among at least a few others.
Here I am in a characteristic pose, rather damp from my morning walk. The guy I live with says I look morose.
He said that I could have had to forage for food outside, in the rain, like other creatures do.
Well, I don’t have to do that, I guess, but I am worried that I won’t get to go on my afternoon walk, because it’s been raining, and raining a lot. Without any thunder, if you can believe that. I can’t.
You know how people say something and then you get all worried about what might happen, and then hardly anything happens, and things seem okay, and you feel really stupid for doing all this imagining about bad things that never happen? It was like that. They said it might rain two inches an hour for “several hours”, which I know could mean anything, but we were imagining all sorts of things, and all it did was rain all night long, and most of today.
This was the view from my fort, this morning.
Gardeners who live in climates where it rains fairly regularly might wonder what the trash cans and dish pans are doing out in the garden, like we’ve become weirdos or something. Well, I certainly haven’t become one, and the guy I live with said that the house plants, some of which were carried outside and are sitting on the patio right there, really like a good drink of rain water–the real thing–from time to time, so the rain was saved and poured onto the plants that didn’t get carried outside. The guy I live with said it was too much trouble to carry the big plants outside, and anyway, if he had, it would have stopped raining the minute he brought them outside. I guess there’s a rule about that.
And, of course, we have a movie for you. I suppose only people who live in places where it doesn’t do this all that often would make movies of such things. That’s the “Ming aralia”, Polyscias fruticosa, in front, there. A house plant.
It looks like it might stop raining in time for my afternoon walk. The guy I live with said he could make me a poncho out of a plastic trash bag if necessary, but I’d look really silly, even if no one was watching me. (That’s one of those “If a tree falls in the forest” things.)
What I’m worried about now is having to go out at Tinkle Time and stepping on a night crawler. I get the willies just thinking about it.
Maybe it won’t happen, after all.
Until next time, then.











