Water, water everywhere

I've been put in my place more than a few times over the past few days. It's raining here in Lumsden. Still raining, I should say. It's been raining and raining, so much so that the standing water in my driveway is attracting ducks. I'm certain they plan on staying. I wish they wouldn't.

While I've watched the rain fall and worried that the crop isn't going in, I've publicly proclaimed that it should stop. And then I've promptly been told to hush up and hold my tongue. See, I'm from the Red River Valley. Nine years out of 10 we'd get so much water we could canoe to town. No, really. A friend of mine owns land there still and each year I seriously recommend she start planting cranberries in those bogs she's got. I may be exaggerating a little, but my perception is that there is such thing as too much water and it happens. A lot.

Fast forward to present-day Lumsden, and I'm getting grief from all sorts of sources.
"If the rain stops, it may not start again." or "Rain makes grain," or, my personal favorite from Grainews contributor Ron Settler: "Last time we asked for the rain to stop, it did. For three years."

And so, the rain falls and I wonder if I should just keep my mouth shut. Heaven knows I don't want to be responsible for the next drought.