You walked through bigger sheets of rain uphill both ways and barefoot without complaining.
We do complain. I complain.
Because that rain? That rain was bullshit.
We've been so saturated with warnings about the impending El Niño that it began to sound like urban legend. In this house it's pronounced "eLlllLlll NeeeEEeennnnYoOoOoooooooh" with a gutteral, vaguely south american cadence.
So when alarmist news reports indicated that it was finally coming, we were ready. ish. We were ready in that we knew it was going to rain, and we knew which roads would flood and which roofs would leak and which shoes would be unwise. Then we just went about our routine with that insider info on board, and then it started to rain.
It rained pretty hard. We were just back at work after a long and lovely Christmas break, the kids at work were eager to get outside to play, but:
It was exciting though, and kinda fun to watch the yard fill up with water from our dry vantage point
Then I stepped in a big puddle
...in my office
and it kept raining
it rained pretty hard
and I got this:
Waaaaait, what? Tornado? Then my computer flashed to this:
And of course, I got online to see what all the fuss was about.
|Newport Ave in OB... Save Nico's!|
|also OB - from corner of Abbott and Santa Monica, looking at the lot where we park for Westy Beach Days|
|Crappy screenshot of the route we take to my boy's school|
Eventually, the rain let up. It continued in bursts and spurts for the next couple of days, days when my umbrella and raincoat were always in the places I was not. If this El Niño is going to be our norm for the winter, I am going to have to rethink my definition of essentials.