A REAL BUMMER.

Today it rained. Again. It's rained almost every day for weeks. But today, because Her Excellency of Mousehole planted acorns out front one year and they sprouted and grew into oak trees and because every tree offers gifts, and our oak trees offer gifts of all kinds, IN ALL SEASONS, along with the maples out back, that also offer gifts, IN ALL SEASONS, our rain gutters were plugged. When they are plugged we are in serious trouble. The water drains onto sidewalk and onto and the water soaked flower gardens and then drains into the basement.

Phil got on the roof with the garden hose to unclog the drains. I stood on the front lawn to take his photo. I had a new photo card in my camera, one with more memory. When I loaded it into the old camera, the one I download to the computer with, the old camera wouldn't read it. So, I will have to quit cheating and learn how to use my new camera to download photos.

Bummer.

I hate bummers.

One of my sons hates bummers too. We now have something in common.

So, there is no photos of Phil--brave man that he is--on the roof in the rain.

This will have to do.

This is a photo of Phil, training the dogs that they belong on the floor. He is very stern, as you can see. The dogs are shaking in their boots. They will never be on a lap again.
Gordon,in all his lap sitting glory, while listening attentively to the lecture, has his eye on something.It's Minkey, who is doing his best to ignore those disobedient, lap sitting dogs.And those dogs? They are really listening well, they'll be off Phil and on the floor, where they belong, any minute now. Yup, any minute. Um hum, really, they will.
Just as soon as they finish their naps.

SOME EXCELLENT THINGS

1. A young man from a Podunk town in Oregon who is scared to death, but has come to Provo to go to BYU anyway. I hope he does well.

2. Going to the movies--Kung Fu Panda today--with some of my excellent grandkids. Very cute movie and very cute kids.

3. Remembering that Gilmore Girl used to call our Oriental acupuncturist Kung Pao Chicken.

4. Having a story already written for my personal history group and not having to stay up late writing.

5. Having email friends. One is on the run for stealing two steak knives thirty years ago when he was just a young sprout--I've vowed I don't know him but I don't know...if I'm put under the lights I may fess up. Another email friend decided instead of thinking of all the things she wants to change she will think of some things that are excellent as they are. She is the inspiration for this post. Still another email friend sends encouraging words--even from where the deer and the antelope play. She would know that because she's been on the range and everywhere else that her husband, Columbus can drive. And my erratic emailing daughter, Gilmore Girl who will not write a blog and only sends me pithy one-liner emails and I have to call her a Cheeky Monkey. There's a lot of that Cheeky Monkey-ness going around this week, it seems. And last, but not least, a funny friend from the land up north who walked into a pole one day and has never been the same, which is all right by me because she is funny and optimistic and hard working and did I mention funny?

6. Having a husband who eats forty-'leven times a day and stays at his pre-marriage weight. It gives me someone to grumble about and, as we all know, everyone feels better after a good grumble. Thank you Honey for the reason I feel better forty-'leven times a day, multiplied by 365 plus one for leap year.

7. Sleep.

8. Cold weather today, but only if it gets hot again tomorrow.

9. Rain.

10. Toenail polish, which will soon be covered up with socks but it will be there, all winter, anyway. And fingernail polish too, which I am wearing every day for a month until I get sick of having to re-do my nails every two days.

That's it for today. Ten excellent things that I don't need to worry about trying to change.

SIX WORDS FOR RAIN

Forest fire! The rain came. Ohhappyday.

AND THE RAINS CAME DOWN

Today, as I was driving all over the place, I looked at the cloudless sky and thought, "I really should have been actively praying for rain." This has been a very dry summer. We know we have had rain a lot of nights--about this much. Oh, sorry, you can't see my fingers--they are glued together. It has only rained enough to make a the windshield spotty like a speckled pup.

So, I stopped all my internal dialogue and just said a quick, silent prayer to our Heavenly Father for some rain. This was about 5:00 o'clock, it was 101 degrees.

I was driving home at about 8:00 o'clock. There was a forest fire on the mountain and the air was thick with a the smell of nature burning to ash. The back mountain was hazy with smoke.

I stopped at a friend's house--she and her hubby have been gone for about two weeks and I have been about a week overdue from lonesomeness for her. (She is the one who made the hysterical phone calls about the caramel-thievery and provided the best laughs I've had all summer.) I crashed their dinner and they graciously let me sit and drink in their friendship.

And then the rain came. Not a soft rain, a deluge. I would have waited it out but in the past if we got rain like that for more than five minutes we got flooded. Our storm drain has not been big enough and the water used to come over the sidewalk, up the lawn and, "Hello, Snyder's! I've brought a lake to your basement. You can wade and go fishing. Have a nice day." The city has since tried to fix things but still, we've had some close calls since then.

So I dashed to the car, which was locked, of course, and by the time I got home and dashed again I was soaked but not as bad as Phil, who was on a ladder, of all things, by the front porch. He had the front lawn hose turned on full force, clearing the rain gutter of who knows what, which he cleaned out thoroughly two weeks ago. The water was pouring over the rain gutter and merrily making its way, singing and burbling all the while, toward the basement window.

If he hadn't been home, but gallivanting with me, we would have had a lake in the basement...again. I bless his non-gallivanting soul.

So, today the rain came, the forest fire is out, the lawn and garden are soaked to a depth of probably a foot, and the car is washed clean. So there is a three-fer if ever there was one.

I should pray for rain more often. And I will. And for sure tonight's prayer will be one of thankfulness for many blessings, including the lack of wading and fishing opportunities in the basement, and the mountain being saved.

And now the earth is clean and fresh, just like a mouthwash commercial.

Oh, happy day.

RAIN, RAIN, GLORIOUS RAIN

I was going to title this post: "Rain, rain, go away," but thought, How ungrateful. We are coming out of a drought and I am whining about the rain. One of the talks in church yesterday was about gratitude, and so I'm going to be grateful. The rain as glorious. That's what I've decided. And really, it is.

Glorious rain. Washes the earth clean of the stains of all kinds of things from the potting soil I spilled to the dirt on the car. The dust is washed off the trees, the grass is refreshed, the streams and rivers are plumped and the fish eat bits of tasty fish-snacks that have tumbled into the water.

The weather is cool. Perhaps next week we will be sweltering, the air conditioners thrumming into the evenings. One neighbor runs his air conditioner all night. No open windows for him. They should know the feel of the breeze--if there is one--or the joy of kicking off covers and sleeping on top of the sheets.

When the kids were younger and our car's air conditioner gasped it's last we rolled the windows down. When we passed cars with the window's rolled up I would tell the kids, "Oh, look at those poor people. They don't get to experience summer." We laughed our way though the hot days and didn't feel sorry for ourselves a bit.

And so, I am going to love the rain tomorrow and if we get rain the next day I am going to enjoy that too. And if we get sweltering days I am going to kick covers. I'm going to experience whatever we get and be happy about it.

I'm even going to repent of all my whining about the endless winter. Yes sir-ree, I'm going to repent.

We aren't going to get more winter, are we? Because it's easier to repent if you know there won't be a repeat of what caused all the whining in the first place. No more winter, right? I'm just askin'.