Sailing.

So you know how I'd posted brief impressions from the little squall we had last week?

...yeah. 

Roof in the back entryway, over the garage, is still leaking (no surprises there, right?).  I think it's the way the upper deck was put together, and we'll have to rip that out, and then gut the entryway and put up drywall.

(But later.  First thing is taking down the upper deck and rebuilding it.)

Anyway.  This is tangential. 

I wanted to post about the street, rather than the roof. 

You see, we live on a bit of a hill, so the street flooding is not as big a deal; water doesn't pour into our basement. 

(The street, though, gets pretty impressively deep, and when idiots try to take thigh-deep water at 35 mph in their cars?  They stall their cars out.  Water up the intake vent is bad.  Fortunately for everyone, the flooding rarely lasts more than about half an hour.)

So we'd put the garbage out before it started to rain; one sixty-gallon can and a couple of bags.

They all took sail. 

All of them.

I was seized by an incredible giggling fit as the Good Ship Garbage sailed down the street past our window.

Mike waded out to retrieve the offending vessel, soaking his shorts in the process.  Robin got excited and pulled his sandals on to go out, and was quite disappointed that he couldn't get the back door open by himself. 

("I tried to help, Daddy," he said sadly, "But I couldn't get the door opened.")

Oh, dear. 

I haven't laughed that hard in ages.