It's very hard to feel too disgruntled by Sydney's heavy rain showers, when our country is so far into a major drought, the dam levels are dwindling, and government ministers are arguing the pros and cons of expensive desalination plants vs the recycling of sewage into drinking water. But try explaining to the dog why he's going to get damp on a toilet break.
The grass in the backyard is loving the relentless downpour, as do the flowers, the potted plants, and the frogs. I guess the translation of their mournful, communal cries is, "Quick, there's a puddle! We must procreate!"
I discovered tonight that the garage has flooded. Ick. That's the third time in six years. Not too bad, I guess, especially since I put everything up onto packing-foam blocks after the first time it happened. Two days of constant heavy rain is about the limit. By the third day, the ground and drains can't hold any more and the water just flows under the bricks, or through the mortar, or comes from somewhere - and across the concrete floor. The previous owners were here about 15 years and reckoned it never flooded in all that time.
It was a bit daunting once when the local newspaper showed a map of the Penrith Valley flood plain a few years ago - and there was a huge lake that theoretically forms, every 100 years or so, between my house and what is now Westfield's Penrith Plaza.
Ah, the dog needs to wee again. He has that look in his eyes. Let me just get the umbrella...