Yucky, soggy, rainy day

After two kind of nice days, we're being pelted with heavy rain.  I know, it's better than snow.  But still.

Nothing to do.  Don't want to go out, second walk is a washout (but we did get in a nice first walk), and I'm feeling my PTSD acting up as I listen to the rain banging on my windows, and the wind driving it hard.

So what's on the radio?  A used La Boheme, which I recall was nothing notable at the time it was fresh, back a few months.  I'd much prefer the actual matinee performance today, which happens to be Damnation of Faust, but for some unknowable reason, the big house is replaying a not so stellar performance from the recent past.

I notice, looking out the kitchen window, that the big construction project that went on all week is not having any positive effect.  For reasons also unknowable, the town decided to install a large storm drain type receptacle in the street a couple of blocks from here, which is at the bottom of a hill.  Runoff from the hill causes a large amount of water to flood the very busy street at the foot of the hill.  So I can see why someone thought a drain might alleviate the problem.

Guess what?  It's not working.  The very busy street is still flooded.  And due to the disruption of the street and area around the new drain, the flood is mostly mud.  Charming.  My tax dollars at work.

In the course of the construction project, I had opportunity to notice that most of the gendarme around here are late middle aged and very overweight.  And how much do they get paid to stand around, or sit on their butts, all day while people are digging up the street?  And why is it necessary to have a rather large SUV parked ON the sidewalk, with the motor running, spewing exhaust fumes, all day? 

One morning the attendant gendarme insisted on "helping" us cross the street on our way home from our first walk.  Ok, so big whooppee, he stopped a couple of cars that would have stopped anyway.  Then we had to creep past his SUV, parked on the sidewalk, with its motor running, spewing exhaust fumes, by climbing up the neighbor's 45-degree sloped front lawn.  This is not helpful.  Besides, we're pretty good at getting across all by ourselves.  After all, I lived on a state highway for 18 years.  This very busy street is a piece of cake, compared to that.

I need sunshine.  I need less wind.  And I need a second walk.  And a third, and a fourth.

Failing that, here's a shot of a couple of shore birds taking a walk the other day.  Apparently you don't have to be birds of a feather to walk together.