The desert shall blossom as a rose . . . if it doesn't flood first

I woke up this morning to the not-so-common sound of rain hitting the pavement outside. This was a delightful surprise, since Provo, being a rather arid land, doesn't get many rainy days. It stopped around lunchtime and I assumed it was done for the day. In the late afternoon, I headed out the door to complete some errands on campus, and discovered it was raining again. So I poked back inside to get my jacket and umbrella.
I probably shouldn't have bothered. The first part of my commute is a walk across a vast, empty parking lot. By the time I reached the other side, my shoes were full of water and my pants were wet halfway up my calves. (Is the plural of calf, meaning lower leg, still calves? Or is it calfs?) The wind just about knocked me over, too. In other words, it was a recipe for making Maria smile really big. Upon arriving at my lab twenty minutes later, my umbrella had been turned inside out at least twice and my pants were wet up to my thighs. I wasn't intending to make a dramatic entrance, but I suppose the combination of the squelchy noise my shoes made and my dripping attire was slightly out of place in the dry, sterile lab. Heh. I was very glad that I was only going to be on campus for a short while.
I finished my business in the lab and squelched to the library. I felt kind of bad tracking my excessive moisture into the building full of books, but I did need to go there- I had turned in a book last Friday that was still showing up as checked out. Since it was now overdue, and someone else had placed a hold on it, this meant trouble. Consequently, a nice librarian wrote down its call number for me and I squelched down to the first floor to see if the book had been shelved without being checked in. Lo and behold, it had! It was innocently sitting on its shelf; I triumphantly squished back up the stairs to show the librarian my evidence, and she kindly removed the block on my account, as well as the fine. Since I am a regular patron of the library, this was a beautiful thing.
Then I walked home before my shoes decided to become small lakes and grow ecosystems. I may not be able to wear those shoes for several days.