OK Lord. You’ve made your point. You can make it rain for 40 days and 40 nights and flood us out again any time you want. We get the picture. But the ground is soaked, streams swollen from the constant battering of rain overflow their banks and trees topple from the slightest wind.
In less than a year we’ve gone from too little rain to too much. Gardens have drowned. Mud covers paved roads. Gravel driveways resemble logging roads. Grey, depressing days have driven moods into the cellar.
You win. You’re still the boss. Now give us a friggin’ break.