Tight Curls

When it rains and rains and rains some more, not just a few drops but a drenching downpour driven by strong wind, Spike gets drenched along with everything else. When he dries, his normally wavy hair turns into tight curls that sort of match my own, which have the same tendency. My arm wasn't long enough to get a selfie of both of us, but I did get a picture of some little whorls and swirls on top of his head as he was draped across my lap. My own personal heater.

I had hoped the rain would stop long enough to go down and see the state of the creek which we can hear roaring along behind the houses across the road. The day began earlier than usual because I couldn't sleep and got up. It was dark, but the sound of the wind and rain outside kept me company until it got light enough to see the rain blowing sideways and hitting the windows. 

By lunchtime John was pacing around like a caged tiger and during a break in the clouds and a pause in the rain he leaped into the car and drove off. He couldn't have gotten much farther than the bottom of the road before the skies grew dark and it was raining again, water pouring down our driveway and into the road where it will no doubt continue to dislodge the few remaining dregs of asphalt and turn the whole thing into a pon fed by what we suspect is a spring underneath there.. Along with the rain, we have been deluged with calls and slogans like, 'turn around, don't drown'. Roads are being preemptively closed in known flood spots so we didn't make it to Kathy's. There are always a few people who are sure they can make it through and have to be rescued. It's highly unlikely that we will be tempted to ford the water at the bottom of the driveway...one of the benefits of living on a hill.

I did a little laundry, made a meatloaf for Dana and Jim who are coming to dinner tonight, but mostly sat and tried not to think obsess about my upcoming surgery on Wednesday. I was distracted from this by a suspicious smell emanating from the trap door to the crawl space under the house in our bedroom closet. Further investigation did reveal a dead rat in a trap which John removed. He called the rat patrol to tell them, and they are coming, oh joy, on Thursday. The ladder to the attic space is right outside the other bedroom door, so there will be no escape...for me that is. We thought the rats were gone....

The political situations in Gaza, Ukraine and potentially even in this  country, are so dire that I just don't have the brain space to think about it right now. But it is there, lurking in the background of my consciousness nonetheless....