Monsoon Monday

Well, since I finally got my tomato and pepper seedlings planted last week, figures we’d get rain.  Normally this is a good thing.  But we’ve been getting drenched for the past three days and the weather gurus say we’ve got another two days of it.  We’ve had the tornado sirens go off two or three times this weekend and our area is under a Flash Flood Warning.  A guy from Southern Missouri was swept away in his car when he tried crossing a wet-weather bridge (big no-no) and drowned.  The White River is also being watched very carefully.  We had record flooding on the White three years ago and it destroyed dozens of homes on the river.  This series of storms is making everyone nervous.

Although our home is far enough from the lake and river to avoid flooding, we’ve got our own moisture problems here nonetheless. My raised beds are totally saturated.  My turnips, which finally popped their little heads out of the soil last week, are now covered in a slurry of mud and water.  The peas, tomatoes, onions and peppers are still holding their own.  For now. 

There is a standing pool of water by the front porch…..

….and the little creek down the hill, which you can normally only hear on a quiet night, is a roaring river.  I went outside this morning to feed the goats – in between cloud bursts - and swore there was someone with a truck or some sort of mechanical equipment on our property.  But the low rumbling noise was the sound of the swollen & rushing creek.  Creepy.  Neat, but still creepy.  And again, far enough away that flooding isn’t an issue.

The goat pen has become poop-soup and you can’t go out there without proper wading attire......

The goats are also stinking up the loafing area in the barn, because goodness knows, the rain would just kill them.  They also run to / from the barn to / from the hay feeder between rain storms.  Lots of pushing and shoving to grab as much hay as they can, as quickly as they can, then make a mad dash back to the barn, pushing and shoving again to get the “best” spot.  Not exactly sure where the best spot is, although I think it has more to do with the fact that somebody else is in that spot and not necessarily the comfort or dryness of the actual spot.

The chickens aren’t fairing much better, although at least they will eventually tire of hiding from the rain and venture out from under the barn.  So where did the term, “Madder than a wet hen” come from?  They are definitely wet – more like soaked – but none of them look particularly pissed off.

Not that I should really blame any of them for their antics.  I’m sitting dry and cozy at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of hot tea and typing on my laptop, unhindered by the relentless rainstorms outdoors.

That is until I have to don my raingear to do evening chores.  And hopefully avoid being struck by lightning or being sucked into the mucky mess of poop-soup.

At least this is a legitimate excuse to put off mowing the lawn for another week.