The National Weather Service map always displays nine little squares to report in brief what the forecast is for five consecutive days separated by four nights. This morning, the days were all "sunshine" and the nights all "mostly clear" when I clicked on Chariton's approximate location along Highway 34. Wow. It's been weeks ... It's a miracle! Well, probably not --- just seems like one.
At least we've all had something to talk about all the time down here where the weather always is a topic of conversation. Visiting over supper down in the country last night, we decided two inches of rain had fallen early Sunday at Chariton, about an inch and a half several miles south and even less in the Corydon area. I managed to sleep through that one, but did notice the squish factor when setting out across the back yard to collect altar flowers about 7.
As a rule, Chariton doesn't flood --- a factor of its location on a collection of small ridges adding up to one big one that separates the Missouri and Mississippi river drainages. There were a couple of modest exceptions last weekend. West Court Avenue cuts west from the southwest corner of the square down what once obviously was a stream bed with hills on either side before catching a stream that still runs down to the river. Traffic was disrupted briefly there. And the apartments a block south of here were built in a hollow designed to hold water --- which it did again. Minor damage there.
But for now it looks as if we'll all have a chance to dry out a little. Maybe I'll celebrate by waiting until say Thursday and mowing the lawn all at once instead of daily in small segments based upon how fast its components dry out.
Chasing dust yesterday afternoon, and sneezing, I got to thinking about friends some years back who developed allergies. A helpful physician suggested that they had suddenly become overly sensitive to their environment, but because this was just at the dawn of the pills-for-every-purpose era --- action rather than medication was required.
Carpets were pulled up to reveal hardwood floors, lavishly upholstered furniture retired, mattresses, pillows and the like encased to prevent whatever it was they contained from escaping and super filters installed on everything that had a blower. It didn't work that well, but my friends did feel righteous in their simplified surroundings and there's always a degree of solace in self-righteousness.
In a year or two, he unexpectedly (to the rest of us at least) sold at clearance-sale prices all the stock of the business he had operated as a family obligation for many years and auctioned off the building. She quit her teaching job --- and off they went leaving behind a disgruntled mother and three college-age kids miffed because home no longer was where they had expected it to always be.
In their new life, they managed jointly a series of venues owned by a corporation, moving regularly based partly on whim and partly on available venues. All venues were heavily carpeted, lavishly upholstered and not equipped with anti-allergenic filters. But their allergies had disappeared that morning they pulled out of the old hometown headed elsewhere.
So there's something to be said sometimes for running away from home. It's on my mind every time I'm confronted by the need for serious house work.
On the other hand, the sun's shining this morning, the week started last night with good food and good music out there half an hour from everwhere and I've got a morning invite to a porch party planned by the owners of one of Chariton's grand old homes to humor snoopy friends and acquaintances. So I'll give it another day.