On Tuesday, as I arrive home and am opening the gate to drive through, I notice the rain gauge. There is water in it. An inch and a half of water. This can’t be true. It didn’t rain in town (Austin). And Creedmoor has a force field that keeps out any measurable rain. Everyone else gets rain; we don’t.
I look around. There is no standing water anywhere; not even a hint of a puddle. The ground looks as dry as ever. The plants don’t look any more nourished.
Why, I wonder, would Bruce put water in the rain gauge?
When I get inside, Bruce asks me if I saw the rain gauge. Yes, I say, what’s wrong with it? There is water in it.
The ensuing conversation went somewhat like this:
It rained, he explains.
Here, he replies.
Here? Here where?
Here, here, that’s where, he gestures expansively.
Nothing is wet, I point out. (I envision a miniscule, black cloud hovering over the one fence post, lightning, thundering and raining just over that one rain gauge, without a drop being spilled on the ground.)
It all soaked in, Bruce explains.
Well, if you say so, dear.
We have 3 rain gauges. The one at the front fence post is manual; you have to go out and look at it. The other 2 are electronic and remote. The readouts display on receptacles in the house.
The fence post rain gauge had 1.5 inches. One remote rain gauge registered 1.65; the other 1.54. The 2 remote rain gauges are on opposite sides of the yard (north and south) and the manual rain gauge is on the west side. Maybe all 3 rain gauges are accurate.
But it still doesn’t look like it rained!