Strung Out

Rain, rain, rain, holy drenching downpour of rain.  Rain that SHOULD be snow.

::imagines the insane amount of snow that would equal this precipitation::
::imagines the insane amount of shoveling of the insane amount of snow that would equal this precipitation::
::imagines the insane amount of TIME the insane amount of kids would be crammed into the insanely small, stuffy house because everything in the insane area shuts down at the mere MENTION of snow::
::imagines what it would be like if our mouths were located in our left armpits::

I'm sorry, what?

OH!  So, yes, um . . . I'll take the rain after all, thank you very much.

In honour of the rising river, I give you . . . a guitar pic:

I really want to re-take this, as I hadn't noticed the weird reflections until now . . . but the owner of said guitar - 13yo Sprout who has been learning how to play for a year, now, and just loves it to pieces - has it stored safely away in her room and I dare not chance waking her up in the middle of the night just because her parental figure is obsessed with . . well, just obsessed in general.  So I give you a guitar pic reflecting our living room wall.

Rawr.