I made it to town between downpours. In the Mundt library, I missed most of the second gullywasher of the afternoon, oblivious in my earphones. The rain broke just in time for my sanitary district meeting.
I stepped outside, looked up—hey! This isn't a hurricane... so how come this storm has an eye?
The rough rainy grey moved in fast to close the gap.
Downtown, folks parking by the Stadium Grill needed galoshes:
The storm drain at North First and Egan was still playing catch-up on gullywasher #2:
Thirty minutes later, that corner was dry.
As I raced the dark, on-rushing front home, I found more water. Lots of water in the ditches headed for the lake, big water on the golf course... oh yeah, and someone's black Angus grazing in the ditch south on 451st (glad I didn't meet him in the dark! Come get your livestock, neighbor!). And then there was all this water by my house:
This isn't my current driveway; this is the gravel trail down to our old cabin and the fishing point. Splash splash—hardly need to get out of the car to fish. We also have a minor stream running across our front yard. What fun!
The black clouds raced overhead, then boom! Big northwest wind, and the heaviest rainfall of the day. Time to check the sump pump... where'd I leave that hose?
A semantic case for Trump's illegitimacy - legitimateadjective |ləˈjidəmət| conforming to the law or to rules: his claims to legitimate authority.• able to be defended with logic or justification: a...
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