Another River Runs Through It . . . .

It being my garage this time. Wouldn't you know that procrastinating in mortaring up the foundation would come around and bite me on the ass? We're two inches ahead on rainfall for the year and I'm pretty damn certain it's all running through my fucking garage. Last night I was digging checks in the lawn trying to divert all the water around it. The shovel and the mud reminded me of flood irrigating in the old days.

So, assuming my house doesn't turn into a friggin' houseboat, things are good. Sounds like it's wet all over. And I know I shoiuldn't bitch; it's just doing what it does over here. But I'm so sick of the fucking mud and the muddy dogs and cats and all the other shit I'm about ready to pack up the whole family Okie-style and move to Arizona or New Mexico. Just somewhere where there isn't any fucking mud.

And it's still just the two of us, eh? >=)