Two wonderful things happened this past weekend: In the first case Max had his spleen yanked out, which will (we hope and pray) give him a prolonged life; and in the second, it pissed down rain all day on the day of his surgery.
Two updates: Max is doing as well as can be expected, though still a little shaky on his pins and in a bit of pain (well, have your spleen abruptly removed and see how you feel); and secondly our garden is very happy with the precipitation visitation.
We had been undergoing a bit of a drought for the past few months and it was getting unnerving. I lost count of the number of times people expressed the sentiment: “This is getting scary.” I said it myself.
Don’t get me wrong. I like the desert. Palm Springs is one of my favorite spots. I like the desert, but I don’t like having it ‘here’. It’s just not right. I know I couldn’t live in the Atacama Desert in Chile which has had about 1/8 of an inch of rain since Neanderthal days.
Truth is, we were in a drought and every cliche about coastal BC being the ‘Wet Coast’ had been rent asunder, and we all started to get uneasy and we had visions of a California-type drought befalling us. We may yet. I mean to say, one day of rain is bugger all, so don’t count on it being over yet. The future prognostications indicate we are heading back into a spate of warm and dry. Warm has been the other element in all of this. It’s a rare fluke for us to have days that max out to more than 30 degrees on a consistent basis.
In any case, wet or dry, torrid or chilly, at least Max seems to be getting better and also our rhodos seem to have survived the drought. And now I leave you with this thought – feel free to sing along:
If we didn’t have rain then we wouldn’t have flowers,
We wouldn’t have flowers if we didn’t have showers.
There’d be nowhere to swim; there’d be no babbling brook,
there’d be no fish to catch on the end of a hook.