hard days rain

it's inevitable. the new thing rushes in and floods the senses with wonder and possibility. euphoria takes root in the soul.

rain, in sunny so-cal? day one. i threw myself, with the abandon of one who knows sunshine is just around the corner, into sodden good times.

cuddling in front of the fireplace

jumping in puddles

baking warm and hearty breadstuffs

watching a movie with the heat turned up high wearing nothing but a chenille blanket in the middle of the day

wearing a knit skull cap and heavy jacket while walking the puppy through a bluster and counting the seconds between lightning and thunder.

left undone is my favorite rainy day activity, but alas, have lured no suitors to my chamber these windswept days.

the ennui sets in. and as chris cooper was 'you know, done with fish.' i am done with rain. a long forgotten memory fills me up all meloncholy like.

a week of rain and me running late for elementary school. sheila is waiting to walk with me and mom's getting impatient with my lollygagging. i feel wrecked. despondent. sad and useless and i just want to cry in a puddle on the floor.

mom rolls her eyes at sheila. vis a vis me. she says "mona bona butt cheese, pull it together and go to school."

i start to cry. "i just hate the rain."

mom's thing is that you lightly laugh and tinkle away anything sad or icky. with a sweep of her hand we are sent off.

sheila and i run our fastest through the downpour. it's kind of exhilerating. i find i'm crying and laughing both.

she wants to know why i hate the rain.

i can't find the words to express that it isn't the rain. that it is the whole stark bundle of goo that life has become.

so i say- "i just hate all the worms on the pavement."

sheila nods. she hates that too.