Goose stepping in all this rain.....

The rain came, the water rises. Since February our little creek has been out of its bed more times than an insomniac with diarrhoea.

The ground is as soft as half-set jelly and I've taken to going barefoot around the farm since I bogged the gum boots too many times to count.

One good thing to come out of the latest flood is that since it shorted out and then washed away the neighbour’s electric fence, I no longer have the continual ticking on the phone line which left an impression that the phone was going to blow up at any moment.

The new fully-automatic weather station I installed couldn't cope with both rainfall and blackouts so we are back using the old rain gauge - a large tin can and a measuring beaker.

It is more reliable that the electric, battery and solar powered gee whiz bang new weather station.
The main problem with the old tin is assessing the frog variable.
How much fluid do the frogs extract or add to the rainwater caught in a tin?

I must admit it has been very peaceful the last few months sitting listening to the rain on the tin roof.
Not much can be done outside until there is a break in the weather.

We've not had any visitors. Even the religious fraternity that use to turn up on our doorstep has taken to leaving pamphlets in our letter box on the main road - they may trust the Lord but not our rain raddled driveway.

The only animals that have completely enjoyed the past few months have been the geese.
They clearly believe they're meant to rule this new watery kingdom and are currently out harassing swans in their new found domain.

When not involved in that pursuit they march in squadrons over sodden pasture without sinking, as they go telling everything to stand clear for the new overlords.

They have definitely turned fascist. So as I sit here, with rain drumming on the roof, I am planning a counter-insurgence.
When the weather breaks the geese had better be on guard for I have found the receipe for pate de foie gras.