Has it been raining where you are, too? A week of rain, and I'm beginning to understand how Noah felt. We lost power again yesterday, and it was only by Ben's swift return home and subsequent bailing out of our sump pump that we escaped a flooded basement. Many of our neighbors were not so lucky.
The streets turned into rivers, and we had the delight of an unexpected visitor (my mom) dropping by for a sleepover after her 30 minute commute turned into a 3 and a half hour ordeal because the roads were closed. In the end, she just turned around and came by our house: we were so glad that she did, because there was no way she was getting home.
I'm beginning to understand how
my sister felt, caught in a deluge in Port-au-Prince the other week. Weather can be menacing, can't it?
And then there were the words of our milk, egg (and occasional meat) farmer Teri, who said, "You humans don't like rain, but at the farm we sure are happy." Water provides, nourishes, and also destroys. What a powerful force.
Ben took the girls down to the creek yesterday morning to see how it changes: how the same creek we play and frolic in turns into a river when the rain is this heavy. If only they had seen it last night, when that same creek had washed out major roads.
And we had been having such a delightful rain day, too. Paper hats, chocolate chip cookies, painting and play dough. It looks like the rain has finally let up, and as much as I love the sound of rain from my open windows, I can't say I'm complaining.
Has it been raining where you are, too? A week of rain, and I'm beginning to understand how Noah felt. We lost power again yesterday, and it was only by Ben's swift return home and subsequent bailing out of our sump pump that we escaped a flooded basement. Many of our neighbors were not so lucky. 
The streets turned into rivers, and we had the delight of an unexpected visitor (my mom) dropping by for a sleepover after her 30 minute commute turned into a 3 and a half hour ordeal because the roads were closed. In the end, she just turned around and came by our house: we were so glad that she did, because there was no way she was getting home.
I'm beginning to understand how my sister felt, caught in a deluge in Port-au-Prince the other week. Weather can be menacing, can't it?
And then there were the words of our milk, egg (and occasional meat) farmer Teri, who said, "You humans don't like rain, but at the farm we sure are happy." Water provides, nourishes, and also destroys. What a powerful force. 
Ben took the girls down to the creek yesterday morning to see how it changes: how the same creek we play and frolic in turns into a river when the rain is this heavy. If only they had seen it last night, when that same creek had washed out major roads.
And we had been having such a delightful rain day, too. Paper hats, chocolate chip cookies, painting and play dough. It looks like the rain has finally let up, and as much as I love the sound of rain from my open windows, I can't say I'm complaining.
