It's raining, It's pouring

It rained this morning.

Now, it's not as if I want the troops alerted, or a state of emergency declared.  Precipitation, is not, in and of itself, even blog worthy news; it is only eventful because of the geographic location of this particular shower.

This morning, it rained in the closet.

 

Yes, friends, this is the closet in the dressing room and that line of water droplets - that would be the meteorological phenomenon witnessed just this morning in the House of Stink.

You may have some romantic notion about the sound of the rain.  You may even have an audio recording of this particular sort of concert au naturale in the stereo system beside your bed.  Perhaps you cherish the soporific quality of this particular blend of sounds.  Perhaps it lulls you to sleep.

I - I do not feel quite the same way.  My husband, even less so.  This is his closet, you see.  Gaze, if you can, on the sad casualties of the storm.

Last night, before tragedy struck, this was a happy, matching pair of shoes.   In the unkind light of dawn, the unfortunate left was found, broken and discolored, drowned in the gale.

The leather sponge, once suave and debonair, left floating in a carpet puddle.

And this mournful looking procession:

a sad reminder that while sheep weather the rains rather well, their wool?  Not so much.

We find odd console in the knowledge that the plastic wrap that insulates the windows held firm, keeping the 20 degree temperatures outside.  Otherwise, we might have had a blizzard.

Comments

[Melissa]

Oh my! I hope you can get the leak fixed soon!!