water enters well
Tuesday, June 30 2009
According to those who didn't spend the last ten days in the Pacific Northwest (which we'd found relatively rain-free), it rained almost every day here in the Hudson Valley. Even on days when the sun did come out, there were vicious thunderstorms. This accounts for the fact that slug population is even bigger than it was when we left (they've been particularly hard on our garden crops). I'm not seeing millipedes anymore, and hummingbirds are still scarce, but the Phoebes are making another attempt at hatching eggs in the ill-fated nest above the lights above the garage doors. A couple weeks ago they succeeded in raising a Cowbird; I'm hoping this time they can raise one of their own there for once.
The well in the greenhouse had nearly gone dry yesterday but today there was a fierce downpour (complete with pea-sized hailstones), and I was in the greenhouse through the worst of it. I could see the groundwater start tricking into the well from various places along its shaft, and as these springs were drowned they'd occasionally bubble as air was forced from them. Eventually the well was full and then the greenhouse flooded the way it's designed to, with two to four inches of water covering half of the floor, drained above that point by the to-daylight drainage system.
At some point today I caught some of the movie Crazy Sexy Cancer, which Gretchen was watching from a DVD. It's a documentary of the struggles Kris Carr has had with cancer (currently contained but not defeated). In the past eight months we've become friends with Kris and her husband Brian; they're part of the Woodstock vegan scene and might also be part of the Woodstock film nerd scene (though it's hard to imagine being a part of any Woodstock scene unless you have a ponytail and are at least 55 years old). There are several people coping with cancer in the movie, but I felt uncomfortable watching them discussing the particulars of their illnesses. I tend to experience vicarious symptoms when people discuss things like cancer, and these symptoms can blossom into a hypochondriacal feedbackular freakout if I'm not careful.
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