Boy, oh boy, oh boy.

I'm one happy camper this morning.  I don't sing out loud anymore...but I've sure got a song in my heart this morning.

It rained last night.

Real, honest to goodness rain.  The sidewalks this morning are drying, but I can tell there must have been a substantial amount of that liquid gold over night, because when I opened the house this morning I could smell it on the air.  Do you think heaven smells like that?  Glorious, glorious, glorious.

I broke my rain gauge several years ago, and though I've always wanted to replace it, I never have.  So, as I was muttering about that this morning...well, it went something like this.

Me:  "Dang, I wish I had a rain gauge.  I'd love to know just how much it rained last night.  I've got to 'gets me' a new one."
Frankie:  (Munching on toast.)  "You say that every time it rains." 
Me:  "I know, and I mean to.  But I don't think about buying one when it's sunny, and I'm out shopping.  I need it to be raining while I'm shopping, then maybe I would think about it."
Frankie:  "You're thinking about it now, why not go order one from one of your favorite catalog places on the 'Net'."

She says this with disdain dripping from every word.  I guess my online shopping annoys her more than I ever suspected.  Or, maybe it's this morning's subject matter.

Me:  "What the heck's the matter with you?  Aren't you happy the world smells so good, and that we won't have to water for a few days?  Man, I'd love to know how much it rained last night."

Frankie's eyes shoot darts at me...I'm glad they aren't real.  Still, if only, if only there was some way I could get an inkling if the rain was a drizzle or an actual good sized shower.

I'm going from window to window looking for a puddle.  Frankie is trailing behind, I can tell I'm really getting to her...I love when that happens.  I start to really play this up.  I'm going to get her so annoyed, she'll hide in the sun room all day.

The end of my trail is in sight, as I head for the garage door windows. Maybe I can see a puddle from there.  Yeah, that's the ticket, there's a good sized pot hole at the corner of the street, I'll check that.  I tippy-toe to get a good look.  I can see there could have, would have been a puddle, but the pot hole is wide rather than deep, so though hole was still wet, there was no puddle.

By now Frankie starts to snicker. Kind of quiet like, she can no longer contain herself.  She's shaking her head with that 'I cannot believe you' look on her face.

Me:  "What?  What?"
Frankie:  (Her patience at end, her last nerve raw) "We go through this routine every time it rains...LOOK DOWN."

I'm still at the garage door windows, still on tippy-toes.  I glance down.  There...just outside the door, snug in my little enclosed patio, are three folding 'camp' chairs.  Smack, dab in the middle of all three is a puddle...a very good sized puddle.  The middle of which could easily be a quarter of an inch deep.  I'm like a kid in a candy store with a pocket full of pennies.  It had rained, really, really, really rained.

While I'm dancing with glee, a song in my heart Frankie turns and walks away.  Oh, I can't hear her thought, but I know exactly what it is.

"Idiot!"

She's right, no wonder I can't get that little red train into the little red station.