This is the very sad, but very true story about a rain gauge that I received as a gift for my birthday last summer.

I loved my rain gauge. With my rain gauge  I could walk out on to the deck and instantly find out how much it rained the night before. When I let Molly the black lab out to do her business this morning I noticed with shock that it was broken! I suspect that the -10 temperature we had on Tuesday morning was the culprit.I know what you're thinking, I probably shouldn't have left that tube out in the bitter cold. I probably should have brought it in after our first round of snow in November.  But I didn't. I waited. I took the risk. And it bit me. (as illustrated by stunning photo taken with Samsung Galaxy S5 I use courtesy of Sprint/Sioux Falls)

This morning I took a picture of the broken gauge and sent it off as a sort of text of shame to my friend Dan who gave me that rain gauge for my birthday last year. My disappointment was quickly turned into happiness when I read his text:

We have spare ones as that wasn't the first to break. Is it the size of your index finger or pinky.  That's my measurement technique for the two tubes.

Tonight when I get home from work I'll have to check in the garbage. I think it's the ring finger size.

I'll find out and get hold of Dan, and let him know to put one aside for me and get it from him the next time I see him.


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