Flakes that Couldn’t Cut It
I heard the rain during the early dark hours. When I got up at seven, there were huge white flakes coming down. The air was too warm and they never made it past being a whisper on the ground. To say that 37 degrees felt cold this morning would be an understatement. What a fluctuation of weather this spring. Last week we had a half inch of rain on the day I traveled to Hutchinson. Earlier this week Dennis dumped out another half inch of rain. As of now the rain gauge has one and one tenth inch from today. What the heavy wet ten inches of snow represented in moisture in the first week of April, I do not know. I do know that we are soaked. So be it!
It has been very humbling for me getting this spring season head cold. Misery to the max. It’s amazing what my petite Riebe nose can hold. The cheap facial tissues are not cutting it for durability. Drinking lots of water.
I mentioned yesterday I would be spending some quiet time in our west house porch today. The parade of garbage trucks for the city wide cleanup is ongoing. After the rain, I can only imagine how heavy the sodden mattresses are as well as the stuffed pieces of furniture. City owned pickups pulling long trailers have made trip after trip with the appliances, I think the auto salvage yard was taking them, though I am not sure.
I can offer this . . . the worn out storm door that Kevin took off of our home last Sunday was gone from the side of our garage on Wednesday. Dennis’ beloved weed-whip plus attachments was gone before the end of yesterday. Wow . . . our junk was desirable.
I think soup will be the offering for this evening’s supper. Hot soup always make one feel better.