And the rain it raineth every single dang day--

All of this wet.

All of this insufferable wet.

People's lives and livelihoods are molding. 

Arthritis, asthma, and general ache has set in-- and the pool overfloweth. NH is under a tornado (!) watch, with a full warning in the southern areas around Manchester. 

And poor Vermont and upstate NY-- there is just nowhere else for the water to go. 

Meg's basement is almost back to dry spots--thank goodness for her very best friends who own a cleaning business with an industrial sucker-upper. There's a lot of soggy, ruined stuff piling up outside for the trash haulers. 

I won't rail on about climate change and the anthropocene epoch again today, but I think it's really got to be sinking in to some doubters' heads. Maybe. Likely, they think that this deluge is some sort of divine retribution we've earned for electing Democrats. 

I was going to go to church, but I feel icky. I'll watch the 10:30 mass on livestream. I was going to bake bread, but I just do not want to get that oven going. Or knead the dough, to be honest. Right now, I'm working on breathing and taking Tylenol for the joint aches. Bleah.

Tomorrow is supposed to NOT rain. I am going to hold whatever weather-deities are in charge to that. My poor garden boxes are swampy; the greenery is good, but little fruit is setting-- plants need sun, and pollinators need to be able to do their job. So far, I have a surfeit of snails. Bleah again.

This afternoon, my online writing group is scheduled to meet. I'm looking forward to doing something positive and generative. Maybe I'll get a poem out of it! If I can't grow carrots, I can grow words. 

Stay dry, if you are in the wet. If you are in drought, please bring buckets. We have plenty to share.

C