Holy Brother Noah, here comes the rain again. Rain followed by rain, followed by rain, followed by rain, followed by rain. Mudslides all around the Puget Sound, and mud up to our ankles here in the barnyard.
Even the bucks have gone into their shed. When the bucks won't come out to the fenceline to try to meet girls, you know it's raining.
We don't have an ark, but there is a kayak upstairs in the barn. So if worst comes to worst, the farmer and I will paddle on down the road. Too bad, there are only two seats in the kayak. Precious Winnie will have to swim for it.