Two for the price of one!

I had a very interesting dream last night. A bunch of the CY were together (and I was with them) and then Tlepolemus started doing some beatboxing with her mouth, though she could make these really amazing piano, violin, and entire orchestra sounds! I was very impressed. I'm sure Jonathan (if he was there) was envious.

We also did some concrete work today around our property, building a small pad for a well-house/pigeon-house and pouring concrete inside some large tractor tires to make troughs for the cattle. My father was with the truck pouring concrete for troughs so I took care of the pad, going over it every once in a while until it had a smooth finish. In some respects it's like playing in the mud....

Let me see, I'm gonna try my hand at usin' adjectives like ol' F.B. does. It seriously took me about five minutes and I was laughing pretty hard while doing it :D
And no offense F.B., I really do enjoy the way you write!
*Ahem* So here goes:

The land was parched and dry, peeling like a snake's skin and shedding the dust as a cat sheds its fur. Then great dark clouds began to gather in the south, as a flock of black sheep waiting to be collected by a wooly sheepdog and led into their pens. The clouds moved swiftly on the wind as though they were wild horses, with long wispy manes waving madly through the air. Suddenly, they reached our house and seemingly paused while first a small sprinkling, then a great spattering began. Noise, tinkling on the window like a sandblaster working on a piece of rusted metal; I stood at the window and watched as it beat against the house, glad that the walls were firm and solid. The water began to run like little streams from the roof, hitting the ground and splashing like so many stones from a small boy's hand, dancing, hopping, pounding on the ground like little silver hammers. The parched ground greedily soaked up the first fruits of this downpour, then, as its thirst was quenched, began to leave it to dribble on the ground, like a baby with his mouth already full. It formed little rivulets and ran like blood down a wounded man's face, down, down, down and into the tall grass, as into his beard. A bolt of lightning seared the sky, thunder crashing much like Stupendous smashing an empty bag of cups at church. As I opened the door, the wind caught my eyelashes and hair, playing with it like so many little pixies. The storm began to abate and merely drizzle, the ground starting to soak it up once again instead of allowing it to slip away as a heavy box of concrete tools through weak fingers. Soon, all that was left was the traces, the mist in the air and the refreshing feel of outside. Much of the heat of noon had been rinsed away, beaten into the ground and blown away by the wind. The wind began to subside and to only sigh through the trees like a contented dog having his belly rubbed. Blue sky peered through, glancing with glee at the land which had been cleansed and given life yet again. The sun sunk into the sky, seeming to relent from its former fervor, almost apologetic and thankful to see the land replenished, yet a small ray of mischief gleams in its last view. It will be back to tease the land tomorrow.

Meh, I guess it's not my thing. I'll go back to my old method:

"it rained this afternoon."