Thoughts about the Weather, Yankees and mud puddles

I have been complaining about the no rain situation for weeks now. This has been a bad year for us, weatherwise. We started off with a reasonable winter, temperatures not to cold, cold enough to be called winter, but nothing below zero...I've been in below zero, I don't really like it a lot. Really below (as in 50 below) does strange things to your tires and your radiator. (If you run across my Jacqui, she will say rad-i-ator not raid-i-ator as we do. Forgive her, she's a freshly sprung Southerner...she comes from South Jersey, so we'll cut her some slack. Oh, and she says sa-ment, not cee-ment, isn't that hysterical?) Anyway, back to the weather. So winter passes into the most glorious spring I think I have yet to see. I mean it is just perfect planting weather, the kind of weather that they make Disney movies about. Then right in the middle of it, really closer to the end of it, it ups and gets colder than it had gotten all winter long, and stays that way for a couple of days. The blueberries had flowered. There went the blueberries. The pear trees were in bloom, there went the pears. The plum trees, ditto and ditto. Most of the spring flowers were burnt, but I dead headed them and like a miracle they came back. The jelly making was a kaput affair. There were no wild plums, only two Victoria plums and WTHF and I fought over them like a couple of cats over a grasshopper. The apple trees managed to produce one (quite delicious) apple amongst theirselves and the pear tree only one pitiful little speciman of a pear which I suspect the neighbor's mule ate on one of it's few visits over here. (I must say that mule has the most pleasant face I have ever seen on a mule. It's down right pretty. Everytime it comes over I've a mind to build her a shelter and urge her to stay.) I say her, but I don't know if she's a jack or a jenny. Let's ass-ume she's not a jack. So anyway, then comes summer, lots of pretty flowers in the beginning, climbing vines of mandaville and moonflower. Hummingbird weed is growing everywhere, cantaloupe vines have emerged from our compost bin. It's just a riot of growth and the garden is planted. I even took a picture of it. That was in late June. The roses were blooming, the rain was falling, God was in His Heaven and all was right with the world. Mid July was the last measurable rain that we got. We watered plants and trees as often as we could, but it was a job so hard to keep up with it was near impossible. In August I think we got 1/4 inch. In September, we got none. The ponds are all down from one to three feet and the ducks and geese are looking for wading places. Good bye garden. Good bye flowers. I watered the moonflowers and all the ones close to the house that were in containers and managed to keep a few of them alive. I've heard about heavy hearts before, but WTHF was really heavy hearted. We found ourselves wishing for a tropical storm, then felt guilty because it would affect coastal regions in a lot worse ways, but we needed the rain. We'd wish for the tropical system under our breath and not out loud where anyone might hear. That way if we had a really bad hurricane, no one would come looking to hang me for a witch. Hey, don't laugh. It could happen. So, anyway, this little system came through last night and hung around all day and I got up and it was raining. It wasn't a downpour, we didn't need that, it is so dry the water would just roll away. What we need is just a slow steady drizzle that will last nearly all day and into tomorrow. Oh, for a week of that. But now, here it is, and outside my door was the most beautiful mud puddle I had ever jumped in. I called Jacqui to see if she was getting any rain and to wish her and Frank a Happy 39th Anniversary...she assured me it was raining there and seemed likely to remain that way for a while. I asked her what she and Frank were doing for their anniversary and bless her little pea picking heart, she told me they had to go to Wal-Mart. It's official children, Jacqui is having a Red Neck Anniversary. I do believe she's home.