Talk About Your Forty Days...

This morning, before we got in the car, Johnny decided to put the sprinkler on his garden.

It takes me about a half an hour to drop him off and come home again, so if I remembered to shut it off when I got home, that would be just about a perfect amount of watering.

(we hate to have to use the sprinklers, really. Not for green reasons as much as the fact that we live in MWRA territory and pay through the nose for water use. Seriously, it runs about $260 quarterly. Not running the hose is a beautiful thing. But, although they've been predicting rain all week, it has so far refused to come. So now, of course, I can practically guarantee it will.)

I didn't exactly remember to shut it off when I got home. More like I was reminded. Because, as you may remember from an earlier post, the garden is right outside the dining room windows.

And the dining room windows were open.

So I just spent twenty minutes mopping gallons of sprinkler-water off our newly refinished wood floors.

And at these prices, I'm half-tempted to go wring the towels out into the yard.