Sunday 17 June 2018

"Rain. We need more rain,"

has been on everyone's lips.
And it has rained...and rained some more. Our tanks are full. This is an excellent thing. It means that, unless a totally unforeseen disaster occurs we should have enough water to see us through next summer and keep the garden alive. That helps to keep the house cool too.
I pedalled out yesterday. I had something that needed to be delivered no later than yesterday. It was one of those "eye-the-sky" days and "dash out in between showers" sort of days.
The Senior Cat said,
      "I hope you don't get wet."
My answer was,
      "If I do  I'll dry off when I get home."
That seems to me to be the only sensible way to think about these things.  I take the view that I might be fortunate and get to my destination dry. If I get wet on my way home then I can change my clothes once I am inside again. I have "wet-weather-gear" for pedalling - a pair of yellow rain proof over-trousers and an ancient navy blue raincoat. Both need replacing but still keep me dry.
Like all cats I do not particularly care for getting soaking wet but we need the rain. I am not going to complain about it. 
The Senior Cat didn't complain either. He spent a short time looking out at the rain yesterday with a rather dreamy expression on his face. Rain is just what the garden needed in his view. A  bit soggy underfoot? So what? It might mean that there has been enough rain to soak in more than the first two or three centimetres.
But now of course there are people complaining about the rain. Yes, of course I am sorry if it ruined your wedding plans or you got soaked through watching your child play football or your plans for a barbecue with friends got ruined but this is rain. It's water. It's precious stuff.  I don't want to see floods but I do want to see the rivers flowing freely instead of being sludgy brown puddles.
Wars have been fought over water. Wars are likely to be fought over water in the future. 
Someone I know in South Africa was saying that some people in Cape Town are  complaining because it is raining. I find that unbelievable. The entire area was so heavily drought stricken an entire city was on what amounted to rations of nothing more than drinking water. They need far more rain than they are likely to get. Rain is nothing to complain about there. 
On my way home yesterday I stopped at the supermarket to get more milk. As I was waiting for a particularly heavy shower to clear before continuing my way home someone I know by sight stood next to me. We listened to some complaints about the rain from two men a little further on. The rain had apparently ruined their afternoon of golf. 
      "A couple of old Hanrahans there," the person next to me muttered. I smiled. He was right.
If you don't know the poem then I suggest you search for 
"Said Hanrahan" by John O'Brien (PJ Hartigan). It should make you smile too.

1 comment:

Jodiebodie said...

I'm glad you pointed out the name of the poem because if someone came up to me and talked about "Hanrahans" I would have no clue what they were talking about. Should I assume that you and the bystander shared the same cultural background? Did the bystander assume that you would know what he meant when he said it to you? I wonder how many people would know what was meant by "Hanrahans" in your neighbourhood and in mine.