Ë®¹ûÊÓƵbodies - Chance of showers...
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- Published on Saturday, November 5, 2016
By Rita Friesen
Neepawa Banner
Rain, rain, go away… note the absence of the invitation to ‘come back another day’. Cool and cloudy, wet and windy, the forecast for yesterday and tomorrow. I recognize that I have little right to complain. I have no crops lying in the mud, I have no resort that has been affected by the surplus of moisture. A weather watcher and a tree hugger, that’s what I am.
Driving up to Slave Lake along Highway 16, the road takes a jog at Dafoe. It is very wet in that area. Due to the rain and run-off, the water level is so high that Big Quill Lake and Little Quill Lake have joined, flooding roads and farmlands. It was disconcerting to see grain bins in the midst of a body of water. To see stands of trees dead and rotting on what, just a few years ago, had been farmland. Acres went from farmland, to hay land to lake. Farm sites are diked and sit amid the rising water. There has been excess rain, and the government now wants to halt any more land being drained into that water basin. Look it up, it’s frightening. Happening in some areas in Ë®¹ûÊÓƵ as well.
I have a very small and petty reason to call for more sunshine and dry roads. Whenever we, the dogs and I, go for a wet walk, their legs and underbelly become incredibly filthy. We’ve got it figured out. We take our long walk and when we get home they remain in the garage. I start the shower and grab the dog towels. First one comes in, hits the shower and gets rubbed down. Then the other one is admitted, carried to the bathroom and we repeat the process. The routine adds fifteen minutes to walking time, but saves me from sweeping up a mess of sand as the dogs dry. Just wiping their feet is not enough! As it is I make an effort to keep the bedroom door closed, the sand pile on the bed can be awesome. I carefully chose the floor covering and thankfully one can not see the dirt, but when I can no longer go barefoot comfortably, it’s time to sweep!
Enough rain, but I am ever so thankful that all this moisture has not come in the form of snow. I am old enough to remember the winter of ’59. The year the snow came on the Thanksgiving weekend. Came with a vengeance and stayed. Long, snowy winter, followed by a spring flood. Sunshine improves my mood. The grey cloudy days sap my energy. It is easy to stay home, read, watch TV and be really quite non-productive!
Perhaps I have crossed the line and become a complainer. Or, I am indulging in one of the things that prairie dwellers do well – talking about the weather.