I can't read but sometimes I feel like I can. Like this morning the farmer came into the barn in a dripping wet 'waterproof' jacket and said, "guess what, everybody, today in the newspaper it says that the rain will keep falling."
Apparently the exact headline in the newspaper was: "Rain Keeps Falling."
I felt like I knew that already. That's why I was standing inside, as a matter of fact. Because outside the rain was falling, and falling in such a way that it appeared to me, illiterate as I am, that it intended to keep falling.
"Rain Keeps Falling" is not that good of a headline, in my opinion. Not around here, anyway.
"Rain Stops Falling" is something you could put in the paper, right on Page One.
Anyway the two Nigerian bucks, Marquee and CJ, came up to the big barn today because their buck shed, which is halfway down the hill toward Lost Beaver Lake, had been transformed into a mudbath.
They were very pleased and made fools of themselves. Their manly aroma filled the air. Almost to bursting.
"What is that wonderful smell?" Boo asked me.
Oh great, I thought. Soon enough she started in moaning and sighing and all but waving a hanky at Marquee.
"Yoo hoo," she warbled, in Nubian.
Oh great, I thought.
I wished I could go outside.
But Rain, for those who can read, Keeps Falling.
