It is raining in Dust-land

We are having our first rain since ?April, ?May ...  not only rain, but thunder too.  Naturally, I didn't cover the cushions last night or bring any in, so they are soggy and coated with the cement-like muck that results from months of dust and no rain.

It is nearly 8 o'clock and I have the light on (we are not far north, so this is unheard of).  It is coolish - about 23 - and my hair has curled up like a brillo pad.

It is Eid al Adha - a blessed time of Haj, prayer, charity, thanksgiving and feasting for our Muslim brothers.  All the shops are closed for the holiday and we have no milk.  No milk: no tea: on a morning that calls for cosiness.

The cats are disgusted and lurking inside, staring balefully, as only cats can, at the wet.

Marius went off to work this morning - he will pick up the days next week - and we managed our walk to the bus between showers. The compound is deserted. 

The rain means the roads will flood as there is no proper drainage and there will be more car crashes due to a combination of inexperience driving in wet conditions, fatal speed and the lubricating effect of dust and rain on greasy pavement.

 Tomorrow we are off to London to visit my Professor (the reason) and to have a break in civilisation (the real reason).

My shopping list consists of the usual suspects:  b*con, s*us*ges, PG Tips, Hovis Biscuits, cat litter tray liners, and a few surprises, including a super 'Animal' vacuum cleaner and a wheel for a suitcase.  Oh, and a haircut - I will cease looking like a poodle in need of grooming and regain my human form.

I am looking forward to exchanging the grey soggy skies of Exile with those of London.

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The Rain Goddess is here

The other day I wrote that a friend had visitors, including one lady who is known as the rain goddess.  She last visited these parts two years ago, and yes it rained then too.

This morning Marius was unwilling to go for his swim - it is only 21 (!) very windy and wet.  He maintains it will fine up and he will go for his swim in an hour or two (it is Friday, remember, the 'weekend').

I mentioned the lack of drains and the propensity for flooding.  I didn't mention the slurry of muck that results from the rain washing through the dusty air and mixing with the dusty layers which coat everything.  It is revolting.

The cats are annoyed because it is too wet to sit in the garden. They keep going to the door, mooching around and coming back in shaking a disgusted paw.  They look accusingly at me, as if to say, what have you done to us?


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Some treats in the garden

After my miserable display of the suburb I live in (Much Grimness), I decided to show you some of my flowers.

Note the dust on the leaves:

This one is the arbus incognitus, which we call the 'tryffid tree'.  When you go the nursery, also know as the plant souq, there is often a significant language barrier, and most plants do not have labels.  We liked the colour so we pointed and haggled:

After all my lamentations on Written in Exile about the dearth of rain in these parts (What we dream of in the desert), the heavens obliged this afternoon and we had one of our rare 5 minute thunderstorms.  I suspect the reason is that a friend of mine has visitors, one of whom is reputed to be the rain goddess, for obvious reasons.

Look, rain drops on the fountain:

Perhaps that is not convincing, so here are rain drops on the umbrella:

The rain will wash the dust off the leaves so tomorrow morning the garden should be sparkling.

The rain is so rare and generally light that there is no infrastructure to cope with it.  Any road drains (very few exist) are not located at the low point, so roads and roundabouts flood.  The dust combines with grease and rain to make the road surface slippery, awash with ball bearings, if that is not a metaphor too mixed. There will be more crashes and prangs and slow trips home from work this evening.


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