Thursday, February 15
From those first sprinkles Wednesday morning, the rain falls lightly, yet steadily, all day. By nightfall the rain is coming down hard, drumming the roof of the Best Little Trailer.
All night long it rains.
I lie in bed imagining this plastic capsule we call home bobbing on waves like a wayward beach ball.
This morning I open the door to this . . . .
The mountains are “gone” and — haha! — there’s a pond in our back yard!
The crew stands solemnly in the open doorway, undoubtedly with full bladders, as they consider their options.
“Reggie? Roger? You’re gonna’ hafta’ go outside. Go ahead. Go on out there. A little rain won’t hurt.”
Out they go, across the mat, sprinting to the mesquite tree.
This is no time to find the perfect target for their aim. Efficiency and speed is what’s needed now. (In the next photo, Roger is giving himself a good shake, which Reggie just did also.)
Through the back window I see a bird.
I can’t get a clear view of him through the rain to identify him. He’s small and gray with a pale yellow underside (not on the breast, near the tail), his beak is tiny like the sharpened point of a wooden pencil, and he wears a crest on his head.
The bird takes advantage of the rain. Perched on a bare branch of the mesquite, he fluffs out the feathers on his little body and spreads his tail feathers. A few moments later, he shakes the water off and repeats, turning his face upward.
That’s a happy bird!
The rain that started Wednesday morning falls steadily all day, all night, and all day Thursday, too.
What does one do?
What does one do when kept inside a tiny trailer during a couple days of cold rain? Well, there’s always sorting and re-organizing stuff. The drawer that I gave the job of holding all my maps and atlases has become a junk drawer. I go through all that, throwing away a lot of old papers and tourist brochures.
Of course, I read. Wisely, when the batteries were well charged, I loaded my Paperwhite with ebooks.
Speaking of batteries . . .
There’s an important benefit of having all one’s batteries connected in times of consecutive days of heavy overcast and rain. The battery in the Best Little Trailer and the two storage batteries in the Perfect Tow Vehicle are connected to the PTV’s engine battery. By starting up the PTV and letting it idle for a while, all batteries are charged.
That allows me to type this blog post on Friday, our third, dark day.
Oh, yeah, I was talking about things to do on rainy days. One thing you can do, one fun thing, one of my favorite things in the whole wide world, is to EAT.
The tortillas I buy out of Tucson are great except they do tend to stick together in the package. I tore a few while separating them.
Torn tortillas aren’t strong enough.
I need them to support my Mexican-landfills-on-a-plate, otherwise known as tostadas.
Sitting inside the BLT with the fridge and stove taunting me and with my gut whining “Feed me, feed me,” I get an idea and fly into action.
I cut the big and torn tortillas into pieces. Then I smear cream cheese on the pieces. I wrap the tortilla edges over the cream cheese, creating cute, little bundles. These I drop into hot olive oil, turning them once after a few seconds, and then removing them to a paper towel.
What a decadent treat!
The tortilla part is brown and crunchy and inside the cream cheese is melted, warm and oh-so-creamy. Boy, accompanied by a cup of hot tea, these are perfect snacks for a chilly, dark, rainy day!
Okay, don’t laugh.
I know. I bypass the Desert Mesquite Honey and then make snacks far less healthful and more fattening than any honey ever was. Well, you try having self-discipline when your home is so small that food is always within reach of your face. It ain’t easy!
Anyway . . . .
Friday, February 16
The rain stops.
The boys get to run around in the mud . . . .
Roger finds what’s left of his bone and Reggie doesn’t care . . . .
Let me tell you . . .
I’m very glad to have the big blue mat and the remnant of the old mat. We’d be living in a mud hole without those mats and the mud would be tracked inside.
I won’t be able to hose off the mats, being as we’re boondocked in the desert. When the clouds go away, I may have to turn the mats over so the sun can dry the mud on the underside and make them clean again.
That’s it for now, from our foggy home in Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge! What’s going on in your neck of the woods?
NOTE: “Neck of the woods” — a quaint phrase from my parents. I haven’t any idea what a neck of the woods is . . . like lots of things I say and don’t understand. — Sue
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