This is Love

Every morning we wake up and spend 20 minutes mustering up sufficient energy to take the dogs on what we know will be a very muddy, very wet, very dirty walk.  Sticking to our Caesar-inspired "exercise, discipline, and affection" philosophy in this environment is truly a  labor of love.  I long for a dog-friendly treadmill.

On Sunday morning, Ernesto geared up and walked the dogs by himself.  It rained so hard that the the rain fell sideways.  I slept (in my defense, I fought to stay awake until 1am the night before so that he and a friend could continuing playing guitar, even though I was exhausted by 8pm).  It stopped raining Sunday afternoon from about 1:30pm to 3pm (when it rains 95% of the time, you really do notice when it doesn't).  While Ernesto napped, I took the dogs for the only dry walk they've had in days. 

It started raining again around 3pm on Sunday and it hasn't stopped since (that's 72 hours of straight rain). 

My raincoat seems to do nothing but absorb rain.  At some point in its long history, the jacket worked quite well.  But, I guess 15 years of wear can compromise any fabric, because this coat really doesn't do ANYTHING but attract rain.  In three minutes the coat is completely drenched from within (and I mean DRIPPING wet).  To complicate matters, my hiking boots have been out of commission for three days, after becoming completely submerged in cow poo.  My butt almost experienced the same fate, when I slipped and nearly fell into the 6-inch deep pile of cow dung that my boots occupied (while Ernesto laughed his head off). Those boots had to be completely hosed off and have taken more than 2 days to dry.  In the interim, I've been wearing my high rubber boots, which are great, except that they're too big around the ankle and give me terrible blisters, even with double socking and band-aids. So I gimp around in them, trying to dodge cow dung without allowing my ankles to touch the boots.  Fun stuff, really.

This morning, jacket still soaked from the night before, I took a green garbage bag and cut out head and arm holes, with the hope of keeping my torso dry.  Ernesto had a white poncho hat that I secured over my own raincoat's hood.  Looking like a complete moron (see photo below), but caring more about dryness than fashion, we set off on our morning stroll.  Kaia wore her raincoat and we squeezed Wasabi into his old raincoat, which doesn't really fit him anymore, but at least keeps his back semi-dry. 

We were a sorry sight (again, see photos).  Most dogs here are either strays or outdoor dogs.  Very few people walk their dogs (dogs simply follow people who are walking for some other purpose).  Fewer people put their dogs on leashes.  No one uses doggy raincoats.  And everyone else here has rain gear, including umbrellas (which we don't have) that actually work.  I'd love to know what the farmers think of our little excursions.

We are heading to San Jose tomorrow, if the roads permit (two of the three highways to the city are closed due to flooding and/or landslides), with several goals in mind: to obtain umbrellas, ponchos, and rain gear that actually work; to do laundry (no point even washing anything here, since clothes smell like mold before they can properly dry); and to FEEL dry, even if only for a few hours.

A dryer has never looked so appealing.  Ernesto's parents have generously offered us their old dryer, once they move into their new house.  We talk about that dryer like we used to talk about winning the lottery.  At this point, the dryer is preferable.

Post-walk, Ernesto smells a Wasabi fart.

Tim Gunn would poo-poo my garbage-bag raincoat for failing in both fashion and functionality - I was wearing three layers of clothing under my jacket and all three were sopping wet.