The Preciousness of Water

In a recent news article, ranking the state for the worst current drought conditions, New Mexico came in third, behind Nebraska and Kansas. The folks living in Silver City don’t need a news article to know this. They feel it and see it every day. I find it hugely ironic that I moved from the great drenched Pacific Northwest to a place where I save my dishpan water and cart it out to my little patio garden to water the few hardy plants that refuse to acquiesce.  I would love to wash the road dust and bug splatter off my car (really!) but will wait a bit longer to take it to the car wash up the road – until I can no longer see through the windshield, or tell the original paint color. This stuff takes a much lower priority in this town. I feel, well, almost virtuous.

Yesterday we had very high winds coming from the southwest, leading in a cold front. The forecasters hinted at the possibility of rain, and lo and behold, it did rain. When I got up this morning to let the cat and dog out, the patio chairs were wet. The ground was wet. I saw puddles. I looked up the to clouded sky and felt a cold mist on my face. Lovely. And I’m glad I haven’t washed my car yet.

And another note on water, or lack of it. I love my apartment. It’s filled with light and space and hardwood floors and has a patio garden. See the pics. Now I want you to take a careful look at the one of the bathtub. See the showerhead? It’s a showerhead that only Peter Dinklage would love. (Game of Thrones fans, you know what I mean.) It hits me just around the ribcage. And just be happy I didn’t take a picture of me standing in the shower. I have to kneel to wash my hair. Well, to wash everything. The water pressure is low, and the water dribbles out in spits and spurts. If I wanted to fill the tub for a bath, the water would be cold before I could sink in and soak. I guess I can’t have everything.