Nor Any Drop to Drink

Amazingly, it's not raining right now, and there's only a "chance of sprinkles" in the forecast for today. We might actually get some work done!

The weather has reminded me of my internship in Missouri in 1993, the year of the great flood. There were only four days in the month of July when it did not rain. The ground squished with every step I took (which is what today reminds me of then).

At that internship, I was required to write an essay containing my thoughts for the summer, which would be published in the garden's member newsletter. I started it with the following.

Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink.
Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.

That's from "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. It's also the only time an editor "corrected" my spelling to "rhyme". Do you think, maybe, I meant it that way, or maybe I was writing about frost (rime) atop the retired sailor's weatherbeaten, oceanside shack (a "sea shanty", if you will)?