An hour or two from now, the skies are scheduled to open. They’ve been closed by clouds the last two days, and when they open this time it won’t be to reveal summer blue.
We’re looking at a week of rain. Not Harvey rain, not Irma rain, but typical of this part of the world; once the faucet’s on, it doesn’t care to stop.
I am SO not ready for this.
I’ve been dashing-dashing-dashing to get the place ready for the wet. For a while I was roaring with energy. But my oomph ran out before the projects and cleanup did. Yesterday, when the weather turned and low pressure descended, I was absolutely flattened. (Why is it that low pressure feels so crushing and high pressure so light?)
Barely got out of bed. Took Ava for a good long walk, then crawled back in and slept several hours, which didn’t help at all. Leaden skies made the world feel cold. I turned on the heat — something I usually try not to do until late October. I wrapped up in a sweater. I played freecell. Just in case my chills were the start of something, I guzzled vitamin C, elderberry extract, and a few zinc lozenges.
After having felt gloriously warm all summer, I thought Oh man, how am I going to stand nine months of cold, soggy gloom? I hope for the return of summer. I hope for a dry, crisp October. I fear the weather gods are saying, “Three months of NICE was enough!”
In the p.m. I dragged myself out for another good dog walk. Thank heaven for Ava. Walking to town with her revived me and after that I got a few things done and felt a lot better. But oh, I am SOOOOOOOOO not ready for the rains to come again.
At least the house is solid and safe. The sticky clay parts of the soil are finally covered with landscape cloth and rock. So that’s to the good. I’ll be interesting to see how much water gets into the screen porch this fall and winter, and if it’s too much I have plastic sheeting to cover the screens. The plastic sheeting is ready. Me, not so much.