Nice weather we’ve been having lately… nice for ducks, that is.
One of my neighbors, old man Quigley, whom I encountered whilst he was constructing an ark in his front yard, stopped me to inquire how long a cubit is. I told him I wasn’t sure, but I suggested that he measure the distance from his elbow to the tip of his middle finger (usually about 18 inches). Then he proceeded to tell me that he was certain that the end must be near, because he had personally witnessed cats and dogs sleeping together and water running uphill – now that’s something I haven’t seen since I last visited the “Mystery Shack” at Calico.
Here comes the rain again, falling on my head like a memory, falling on my head like a new emotion. I want to walk in the open wind, I want to talk like lovers do, want to dive into your ocean. Is it raining with you? So, baby, talk to me like lovers do and walk with me like lovers do (“Here Comes the Rain Again” – The Eurhythmics – 1983)
I didn’t witness any water running uphill, but there was quite a lot of water and mud flowing downhill, into the street and into old man Quigley’s yard. I figure Quigley, now that he’s retired from Match Game, was figurin’ on loading the cats, dogs and other local species aboard his ark, if he lives long enough to finish it.
Those of us whose homes are perched on hilly terrain may want to think seriously about taking extra measures to reinforce any slopes located above or below our properties to protect them against any erosion-caused damage we’ve seen during last weekend’s rain and snowstorm. In some cases, a retaining wall may be of assistance. I have found that vinca works quite well in holding soil in place. I can tell you, from personal experience, that once you get vinca growing on your property, you’ll never get rid of it, because it grows like a weed.
Last weekend was a good time to just to stay put and enjoy the simple pleasures of life. For me and my BW (Beautiful Wife) it was a warm fire (make sure you have a fireplace), a bottle of Sycamore Ranch Merlot and a marathon game of Scrabble. The only uneasy moment came when I caught my BW trying to take advantage of me by claiming a triple-word score, using the word Oxyphenbutazone (an anti-inflammatory medication used to treat arthritis and bursitis). Quickly consulting my Funk & Wagnall’s, I discovered that, while the word does exist, its use in written text is rather dubious. Upon this discovery, BW suggested, “Why don’t you have another glass of Merlot, dear? Oh, the joy of living in a disaster zone.
Keep it flyin’,
Uncle Mott
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