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Modest Proposal

It is pouring down rain:  the sidewalk is nearly wet!

All the headlines are about rain in California; how the hillsides are sliding down to the sea, and that if this keeps up for several years, there may be water in the reservoir, again.

Here in Tucson, cacti are hoping that the top layer of gravel and sand will allow enough water to pass to reach the fine web of roots waiting for even a rise in humidity:  cacti are conservators.

Jao is visiting us today and, like the cacti, he is enthusiastic for anything that will make mud and mischief.  Like the cacti, he does not hope for wild rivers and flowing hillsides so much as he does for something to stir around in, or to pour out onto a chair seat.  I suppose that is why Mari is trying to potty-train him, too.  But Jao knows that Big Boys do not sit on little plastic toy-lets:  they run out into the drizzle-mist and get wet, and then scheme not to put on a dry pamper; in fact, not to put anything on.

Today we are working on things getting wet.  Next week we are going to work on modesty.

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