Rain, Glorious Rain

It's raining! Thank you, thank you Father.

So far we've had .6 inch. About four miles NW of here at Lowell's place they had almost an inch. Two counties NW of us have flash flood warnings, so it must have been a highly variable rain.

Yesterday we had two little showers of the two and three-minute variety. But during the night I heard rain and it was still raining when I got up. Puddles shone in the driveway. I haven't seen puddles in a long time.

The weather forecast this morning looks just like yesterday's morning forecast--60% chance of rain, mostly after 1:00, with dire warnings for severe weather. Aside from window-rattling thunder, we didn't get any nasty stuff with this rain. They may have not fared so well everywhere. There were tornado warnings several counties away from us to the NW.

This rain probably came too late for the wheat, and it certainly came too late for the first cutting of hay. Milo, corn, soybeans, and the second cutting of alfalfa will benefit enormously. In general, the row crops had not yet germinated unless they were irrigated.

We're a little giddy and foolish this morning, as the following quotes will confirm:

Hiromi: We've got water in the basement.

Me: Well, that's encouraging!

We hadn't looked at the rain gauge yet and wondered how much rain we got. I also hadn't yet confessed to Hiromi that I had accidentally left the hose running all afternoon two days ago in the sad and droopy, usually tough-as-nails Vinca major right beside the house. No flooding then.

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Grant: The Abbyville rodeo starts tonight.

Me: And if anyone complains about the rain . . .

Grant: They'll get beaten with a stick . . . or get the wildest bull to ride . . . or be burned at the stake. (As you can tell, his creative ideas puffed and billowed into a giant thunderhead as he went along.)

The Abbyville rodeo is a widely-anticipated annual event that prompts a scurry of tidying up in Abbyville, as well as at residences leading into town. It was our spring-cleanup deadline for the yard when we lived on Trail West road, with its steady stream of traffic on rodeo days.

Shane, who lives in Abbyville, borrowed our string trimmer to help get things up to snuff in their yard. They've been married almost three years, and have never yet been at home while the rodeo was in town. Tonight he and Joe and Marilyn are heading to VA to be with the rest of Dorcas and Joe's family for about a week.

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Thanks to all of you who joined us in praying for rain. With a few hours for this to soak in, we'd be ready for a repeat this afternoon and evening. I don't anticipate any flash flood warnings being issued here, no matter how much we get--unless perhaps it comes by the bucketful instead of by the drop.

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Shane has a freezer full of sausage and pork cuts ready to sell. We'll be offering it at Farmer's Market, starting tomorrow. He will also sell it otherwise. It can be picked up here at the farm. If you stop in on a day when the wind is in the SW, you won't have any doubts about at least one part of the statement on the price sheet: Raised on our farm near Partridge--without antibiotics or added hormones--with access to the outdoors. It's really wonderful meat--lean and flavorful. Prices are similar to or better than the prices for similar meat purchased elsewhere and processed at the same place.