a wet afternoon

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.14073003He said that I could have had to forage for food outside, in the rain, like other creatures do.14073002Well, 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.14073001Gardeners 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.14073004

 

Until next time, then.

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the weather, again

Greetings and salutations everyone; yes, once again it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, here to bring you the latest news from our garden, including, this time, news from the future (oooh). You may remember me from such posts as “Still More Weather” and “Guess The Weather”, among so many, many others.

Here I am in another characteristically weather-related pose. They say it’s going to rain a whole lot, with possible flooding and stuff. They say it might rain two inches an hour, for hours. I’d better get out my calculator. This is one of those “extremely rare” weather events, just like last year. I’m not sure if I believe anything any more. One thing I’m definitely sure of, and that’s how tired of storms I am. 14072902Our sky at about one in the afternoon, looking west. It really hasn’t rained all that much here this summer; it’s just looked like this all the time. 14072912The guy I live with, who did quite a bit of gardening today, or at least that’s what he said (I was napping), took some pictures after he clicked some dials and things on the camera that he’d never used before. The dials, I mean, not the camera. He said the dials and things are why these pictures are they way they are. (By the way, he says these are large files, and they can be clicked on, to embiggen.)

And, yes, I know, these are kind of the same pictures as all the others, but things don’t change all that much here.

the front garden. pure gravel, two feet deep.

the front garden. pure gravel, two feet deep.

the "way back" again. incidentally, those grasses are Melica ciliata, not silver beard grass like he thought. he knows nothing about grass identification.

the “way back” again. incidentally, those grasses are Melica ciliata, not silver beard grass like he thought. he knows nothing about grass identification.

looking the other way. the apple tree has pushed the fence to the east, and supposedly that will be fixed.

looking the other way. the apple tree has pushed the fence to the east, and supposedly that will be fixed.

the path to the place where the picture above this was taken; you could just follow the hose, like I do.

the path to the place where the picture above this was taken; you could just follow the hose, like I do.

part of the raised bed, made of sand and gravel, looking northwest

part of the raised bed, made of sand and gravel, looking northwest

sort of looking back the other way, but not really

Oh, and just to show that it hasn’t been totally cloudy and stormy every single minute for the last two months, like the guy I live with claims, we actually did have a sunset two nights ago, and here’s proof.14072909

 

Part of what gardening means here is transplanting teeny tiny little seedlings out into the garden or into troughs at this time of year. They mostly die, of course, so that’s why the guy I live with plants a lot of them.

Yesterday he planted some very teeny tiny seedlings into the trough. This is Penstemon pumilus. (Pumilus means “dwarf” in Latin, or “extremely tiny” in this case. Tiny seedlings of a dwarf penstemon are super tiny.) Apparently the camera insisted on focusing on the shale instead of the plant, but you get the idea, I think. 14072913Planting out at this time of year is okay if we get rain. Not so great if we don’t, of course. There’s a front coming from the west, remnants of the monsoon from Mexico, and a front coming from the east, which they call “upslope” because it’s heading east up the Continental Divide, which is about thirty miles west of us, and almost two miles higher.

looking northeast at about 3 p.m.

looking northeast at about 3 p.m.

So what happens, according to the guy I live with, is that the clouds get squeezed, like wringing out a wet towel, and we get rain. How much rain is what’s worrying me. It could be a foot of rain, some people say. I’ve never had to swim before, though the guy I live with, who can be extremely rude at times, says I’ll probably float.

Enough rain for the garden would be nice, but too much is too much, according to the guy I live with, who is, I’m sure you’ll agree, quite a philosopher. 14072911

 

Until next time, then.

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