It's a Hard Rain Gonna Fall

I don't have ducks. We did, Jaye and Andre. Jay laid eggs, they were tasty. The ducks must have been tasty too, as a fox got them early one morning, the first night they refused to go into their little duck house. Why? We never figured out. Can ducks have a death wish? But I digress.

It's a pity we don't have ducks, becasue today's weather was fit only for ducks and fish. It rained all day. It rained on my parade. We did have a small parade indoors at our Halloween Fair at work, which would have had a much better turn out had it not been pouring.

One of the great things about living on a few rural acres is that things you can't do in the city, becuase people will see or hear you, you can do up here. Like standing in the middle of the field at night, while the dog is running around sniffing out rabbits, deer, squirrels, chipmunks, foxes (go get em, boy) instead of doing what I brought him out to take care of -- standing in the field, the rain beating down on my uncovered head, splotching on my eyeglass lenses and singing every "rain" song I could think of in a not-too-subdued voice. It's sort of like Julie Andews spinning around on that mountain field singing about the hills being alive. Then the dog runs up and it's time to go in.