Water, Water, Everywhere

We're finishing up Day 4 of rain and thunderstorms. I keep saying, "It's OK, because we needed it." But it was nice to get a reprieve this evening so I could go out and feed animals without getting soaking wet from the windy rain. Of course you can imagine that it is Mudville out here in rural Kansas. When it comes to country living, there are three things I abhor: (in no particular order):

1) Dust. Dusty, flying dirt. Dusty, flying dirt that finds its way onto my glass coffee table and all the beautiful, old, dark hardwood in the house.

2) Mud. Slippery, slidey mud. Mud that follows us indoors, that finds its way onto any clothing I might be wearing. Mud on the cars, mud on the animals, mud, mud, MUD.

3) Bugs. Enough said about them.

On a higher note, I visited two garden stores this afternoon (in the rain), and got some ideas about What It's Gonna Be This Year in the gardens and yards. About all I can do in this week of rain and mud is gather ideas. I am leaning towards perennials this year. Am I getting old?

And here's another high note.
Or at least MacArthur thinks so:

MacArthur seeking higher ground after Rainy Day 4

I've hardly seen hide nor hair of the pups the past four days,
because they have been hunkering down in the barn.
Neither pup uses the designated Dog House.
Biserka must be thinking,
Why drink out of the water buckets when I can have flood waters?

They get the broad side of the barn WEST, and my peacocks get the broad side of the barn East. From the looks of the bedraggled peacocks, they have been enjoying roosting outside in the rain. Power to them. That Spouse o' Mine is quick to point out that their brains are the size of a walnut.

And finally, Puzzle, our 190 year-old calico, emerged from a 4-day sleep (coma) to rush out the door between my legs this evening and scale the first tree she came to. That Spouse o' Mine told one of the kids a few months ago; "She's senile." (But he pronounces "senile" like an Aussie, and so he said, "She's seh- nill." Which made us all titter all the more at our poor puzzled Puzzle.) We love her.

We've had 190 year-old Puzzle since she was dumped as a weeks-old kitten at the doors of the university Vet Med where we once lived. We had recently lost our children's first kitty, and a vet called us and said, "I really think you need to come see this litter." I said no, she persisted, and here we are, 190 years later, with one of the world's best kitties.

World's best senile kitty