1. Really?
“Are the rain barrels really full?” she asked from across the dining room table, gently questioning what I wrote.
I was momentarily silent. Only the fair and industrious Trudy would know that it would take more than yesterday’s rain to fill up the two barrels on the south side of the house.
“Well … no,” I said.
I was so busted. She nodded. Artistic license, we both agreed.
2. Really!
So today it happens again: the skies cloud over, daylight darkens and the rain comes down. It comes down in torrents, torrents I tell you.
I grab my raincoat from the closet and my wide brimmed hat. And I dash out the door.
There I am cleaning out the gutters and draining the rain barrels into extra containers and using some of the water to clean out the bottom of the trash can. There I am in the pouring rain with water streaming off the rim of my hat and my shoes squishing as I walk thru the inch-deep water running around the house. There I am getting soaked from head to toe, regardless of my apparel.
And there’s the dog barking from inside, barking at each thunder clap and barking at me each time I pass the front door.
No, no! Let me out. You shouldn’t be out there alone! Let me out so I can bark at the rain!
It rained and it rained most of the afternoon. Sometimes in torrents, sometimes in a steady stream. And it’s still raining now.
And now (yes, Trudy, now): all the rain barrels really are full!