Powerful Rain

I cannot recall when I've seen so much rain. 

It rained Friday night. It rained all day Saturday. Sometimes so heavily it was a bit frightening. 


Unfortunately, I'd just planted my tiny lettuce seeds before the rains came pounding down.

It's a little late for lettuce. But I kept thinking a bit of fresh lettuce would be mighty tasty on my veggie burgers.

I also put out a tomato plant and chives. 

I put the veggie containers up on the sewing machine table. I don't think Abi can possibly get up there.

When I was looking at the back of a packet of moon vine the other day at the nursery, I saw that it is toxic. Lord, I had better be checking this stuff better since the pupsters have taken to eating flowers. 

Reminds me of a TV show from my youth: Please Don't Eat The Daisies. Do any of you remember that one? I believe I was in the first years of elementary school when it was airing.

I recall a rogue moon vine came back last year, mixed in with some of those weed-like purple morning glories that are once again climbing helter-skelter up the fence. 

Those things are so sturdy they come up in cracks in the concrete. 

I can plant those beautiful blue morning glory vine seeds, and they don't even bother to come up. So this year I'm skipping them.
  

With the rain pounding, I could hear the birds cheep-cheeping somewhere out there. I'm assuming up in the trees.

I wonder if the mourning dove down at the manager's office is still on her nest? Hopefully she and her nest is protected by the eave of the roof down there.

The top of my gazebo looks dirty now, due to the rain bringing down the many blooms from the tree branches that loom over it. 

The previous rain, just a day or so ago, had already turned the blooms brown around the edges. The wonderful scent is gone now.

I stood at the patio door and watched the rain sluice down off the gazebo, pouring onto the glass in a deluge. There was to be no taking of photos of my flowers and plants and herbs. 

Occasionally I stepped out under the gazebo, grabbed my broom I keep by the door, and tried to sweep some of the water off the rug. Sending it on along in the current so it didn't overtake my patio step. 

Mostly I stayed inside while the rain beat a steady staccato on the roof. Feeling mighty grateful to have a dry roof over my head. To be comfy here in my little home.

Because, sadly, I know there are some folks out there that don't have even that.