the weather

Our local news begins with the weather and ends with it. Yes, others have suffered far greater weather catastrophes in recent month, but this one -- the rain that fell here just as my plane landed from Minneapolis last week -- has had quite the impact on our city: we're flooded. Homes, businesses, streets -- submerged and pumping. Costco and Whole Foods -- water logged. The lakes are at levels I'd never seen before. And even if it doesn't rain again (which, by the way, is not the expected forecast), the water levels will only rise. Some of the lakes have not yet crested, even as the major arteries leading from the east side to downtown, are submerged.

I would never have thought that Madison is vulnerable to this kind of assault. We've had large rains before, but this one was eerily different. Certainly the impact has been tremendous.

Here's something else that's eerily different: the farmhouse. Dry (we are on a hill), but very quiet today. The absence of little kids is felt in every nook and corner.

Ed and I eat breakfast in the kitchen. There is a sudden dip in the temperature. I don't really understand it, because it's shooting right back up tomorrow for a toasty hot weekend, but today I felt it was too cold to eat on the porch.






But is it really breakfast when Ed has reduced his morning eating to a single peach, picked from the tree outside? He laughs at me: you eat the same oatmeal-kefir-fruit-honey every single day! It's incredible! You never vary it!
Well now, Mr. free spirit who dibbles and dabbles in this and that and never the same thing for long -- don't most people eat the same breakfast every day? (You tell me, Ocean people -- don't you?) Besides, I mess with it when I travel.

(Outside, the garden is an August disarray. But if you rid yourself of preconceptions, you can find plenty of loveliness. For instance, can you spot at least five yellow flowering plants in this picture? Two types of day lilies, two different false sunflowers and a black-eyed susan. Pure gold!)






(On my way to the grocery store -- one that isn't flooded. Cheepers, why do you cross the driveway just when I'm backing out?)






Later: time to pick up Snowdrop. It's her last day of "summer camp." One photo, because last days of school are just as important as first days of school, right?






At the farmette, I call the cheepers for a piece of leftover pain au chocolat. Their run down the pathway is too funny: they half fly, have waddle at an alarmingly past pace..






Inside, Snowdrop and I play a little, eat even more watermelon, read a book. Then she nudges me: Gaga, you said we could watch a video if it rained.
It's not a big rain right now. Just a tickle.
But can't I watch one anyway?





I have to smile. I was like that once, coaxing and begging for that clip on the screen.

Why not! It's the end of the school year. A beautiful day, where grandkids hover and wait for grandma to turn soft and allow them to watch a video clip (or two) as the dusk is getting ready to set in.