Weathercasters this morning were gleefully terrifying us, showing maps of a green-yellow east coast and scaring us with video of cars consumed as torrents raced down streets. This is catastrophe of the first order! Pair up your animals and launch the family ark!

Oh, what fun! It was pouring out, and my choice of a brolly rather than a rainsuit may have been a little optimistic, though Paul, well swaddled, wound up looking once again like a drowned rat while I just looked like a guy who’d forgotten to get undressed before hopping into the shower, a much more fashionable presentation.

At the bottom of the cemetery, Lake H was full up. Oblivious drivers of the dwindling number of SUVs sent up sheets of water from the puddles along the roads.

Hardrocks, orthotics, and innersoles now line the entryway bench, slowly airing themelves dry.

It stopped raining some time ago. (Oh, too bad! No houses collapsing into swept-away river banks!). I’m off over the hill to Roxbury to buy some beautiful local tomatoes.

I imagine the weather people have turned their attention elsewhere. There are always those fires in California. By the way, how warm is it supposed to get today?