When we got some rain last Thursday, I got all excited. Rainy, stormy weather is a bit of a special event around here (anyone would think we live in a desert, it's so dry).
I happened to be in the carpark at the local branch of our library when the system came through and I just happened to have a camera, so of course I had to take some photos. As I recall, it was about four o'clock in the afternoon when I took these.
Such a nice change from clear blue skies!
I made it into the library only to find out they were closing the doors due to a power failure. I was just about to go back to the car when the skies opened and it rained. And rained. For a good 20 minutes or so, I'd say. I just sat in a chair and watched the storm blow through, and I enjoyed every second of it.
Daniel was at a concert about 30 ks from home, and he said it rained for about 40 minutes there.
Unbelievable! And very exciting until we heard there had been mudlsides to the north of us that kept the main road to the cabin closed for the better part of a day. Not to worry, we snuck up there through a back road.
Speaking of cabins... I finally got around to doing something with the bathroom floor. I don't know why, but some people like to carpet their bathroom floors. Actually, I can understand it with the cabin. My guess is the previous owners found a cheap remnant of carpet and put it down so they didn't have bare wood, and it probably provided a (very) small measure of insulation.
It's just not my thing. And can you see me keeping pale coloured carpet clean? Puh-leese!
So I lifted the carpet (much to my delight they hadn't even glued it down), filled and sanded a few holes and gaps to smooth things out, and got to with putting down some cheapy self-stick vinyl tiles.
After some help from Daniel when it came to working out things like getting a straight line to start with and cutting shapes for around the toilet, I wound up with this:
I'm sure the Keepers of Cabin Lore and Etiquette, who require everything in cabins to be wood, stone or metal (and very carefully manufactured to look "rustic"), would be horrified to see it, but we like it! Plus which, it's toned down the fire engine red of the sink; double bonus! It cost about $50 all up.
I spent a week up there, and the floor was about the only productive thing I did, apart from cooking Daniel a birthday dinner. I read a lot, dodged the rain, read some more, went for a walk or two, and watched the world go by. Oh, and I bought some violently shiny nail polish called Caribbean Frost and painted my toenails, which now look like the wings of some sort of beetle.
And you know what? I don't feel the slightest bit guilty! No mean feat in a culture like this that seems to require everyone to be busy ALL the time. I had a lovely break.
As for the sheep... here they are!
Complete with horseman and sheep dogs.
It's not the best picture in the world, but I didn't want to get too close and upset things (I took it standing on the deck).
There must have been a couple of hundred sheep, and the drovers were moving them from their summer pasture to their winter pasture. Not sure where that is exactly, but somewhere up the road from the cabin.
Daniel had the pleasure of getting stuck in sheep traffic, as he was on his way back from town.
The shepherds in Idaho originally came from the Basque country in Spain, and they still spend summers in the mountains with their flocks. These guys (there were about three of them) had a couple of Great Pyrenees dogs with them, too. No doubt their job was to help guard against wolves and such. One of them was a very old dog, and I think I know now how the expression "dog-tired" came into being. He was sooooooo slow, but there was no way he was going to let that mob move on without him.
It's a great thing to see; not just because it's a tradition for people here, but because it also means fall and (hopefully) cooler weather is on its way.
And with a bit of luck, cooler weather means some rain. Did I happen to mention it's been hot and dry?
Cheers!
