Finally, a really good, soaking rain here in drought stricken Texas. For old farmers that means a great deal. For example, it means I have had to watch more weather than I want to since I am married to an ole farmer. It also means I have been relegated to checking the rain gauge several times a day. (Often while it is still raining!) (The Man just can’t do that walk to the rain gauge anymore.) Being raised in the city, I never did either of those things. I just couldn’t go outside and play when it rained; all outside activities were suspended. Of course today during one of the information gathering conversations with The Man I asked him why rain gauges were such a funny shape – meaning tapered down to the bottom. The answer, built in with a bit of smuggery (Is that really my made up word?) was to measure small amounts of rain, such as a tenth or two tenths. Older rain gauges, back in the “ole farmer days” were flat bottomed. Then, someone got smarter or someone gave a flip and fixed that.
Once upon a time, a man we affectionately know as Red (who aggravated the hound dog out of The Man for more than a few years) was complaining about not having a rain gauge. The Man found one of those old ones and went to Red’s house armed with hammer and PLENTY of nails. He proceeded to place that rain gauge right up next to Red’s front door as far under the porch as he could get it and attach it with all PLENTY of nails. Red is long passed away. Now, The Man and I are wondering if that rain gauge is still on that porch.
I’ll ask the people that bought his place at church this Sunday. Story ending to come after I find out the answer.