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A Soggy Birthday
On the day I turned 56 the skies poured down relentlessly, submerging our county road and creating great roaring rivers out of hillside culverts. Gravel drives stretched across pavement where temporary waterfalls spilled over the outer edge. With one bridge already washed away from last month's storms, the detour for those on the other side is no longer accessible other than via boat. A long journey now longer, if at all. Surely we will hear of emergency water rescues when someone decides the water is not too deep if they simply drive faster.
Fortunately for me, our alternate exit was comparatively dry or as dry as one would expect while in the remnants of a hurricane or tropical depression as it is now referred to. I drove slowly while the wipers swished oceans of rain across the windshield and cautiously studied how deep the culverts were getting or would be within the next hour or so. I was meeting my husband at Denny's for my traditional birthday breakfast, the famous Grand Slam, with over hard eggs, hash browns, crispy bacon and pancakes that I failed to finish.
We met for a late breakfast, more brunch, during what I thought was a momentary break in the weather, until I pulled out of the garage -which must have been the signal to release even more buckets of rain. The garage cat eyed the downpour before hiding beneath the work bench, preferring to curl up in relative dryness, away from wiggling worms evacuating their homes in the grey mud bubbling up from our limestone gravel. They stretch out in font of the garage door, crawling in and eventually drying up in crispy, thin curls which I will eventually sweep back into the gravel drive along with the carcasses of small, black ants that march in a solitary line to the cat dish. Regardless of what the song says, they don't seem to march down, into the ground, to get out of the rain, boom, boom, boom, boom. Rather, they somehow climb through the back door and onto my tile, two stories up and eat my grout leaving bits of sand at the back door and a trench where the grout once rested.
The ants must die.
My daughter and granddaughter called, wanting to know if we would meet for dinner out. No, not tonight. I am already soggy from the rain, full from Denny's and the water is still rising. Maybe another time. Tonight I think I'll live it up by sitting in my recliner in my comfy V neck T-shirt (pink) and black soft pants. I'll get a light throw, something to drink and maybe a birthday treat. We'll watch some tv and go to bed early because when you're young you want to party all night but now a days, sleeps sure sounds good!
I hope you enjoy the photo. I walked up to get the mail and found these two bugs in my solitary day lily. I don't know if they are friends or will battle over ownership but they never seemed to notice me.