It's been raining for the last five days. Our garage is flooded. The front yard is a swamp. Some things have been ruined. It's a good thing. No complaints.
I'm warm and toasty, and wearing a pair of socks I lifted from the psychiatric unit before the doors closed for good. They are grey and thin. They have no-slip treads on them. We used to hand them out to patients who had cold feet or who otherwise required sockage. The hospital probably billed insurance companies and patients $145 a pair for them. They're actually quite horrible. They're not even full length. They're ankle socks. They're booties...socklets. Horrible socklets.
Yesterday, Eleanor & I hiked in the rain. She slept, mostly, while i held the umbrella, traversed slippery slopes, and forded usually dry creekbeds now running with fast flow chocolate milk that overran my boots and flooded my feet. I saw an old cornfield. Its topsoil was washing away into the forest. Goodbye, topsoil. Goodbye, dry feet.