Keep the Coffee Comimg

The sky is lighter. It rained all day yesterday, last night and into this morning, but the rain has slowed, become softer and quieter. It is still warm, 62°. Showers are predicted for tonight. Oh joy!

I remember mornings in fall when there was a frost. I’d wake up to find the windows in my bedroom had frost on the lower halves. I used to write my name in the frost with my fingernail. The grass had a layer of frost, but it was more wet than icy. Walking on it left footprints. The frost would disappear as the day warmed. It wasn’t yet heavy duty cold so no layering. I’d wear a jacket with a sweater underneath and mittens on my hands. I loved those mornings. The summer haze had disappeared. The air was crisp and clear. Everything looked highlighted, bright in the light of the sun and the first stirrings of fall.

When the mornings were chilly, my mother often made us a hot breakfast. I remember the oatmeal. It was the old-fashioned kind which always seemed to have a few lumps. I’d cover the cereal with sugar and then add milk. The sugar even made the lumps tasty. Cocoa was my morning drink. My mother made it with half milk and half hot water. Bubbles were always on the top of the cocoa. My mother made tea in a ceramic pot and put it in the middle of the table. My brother drank the tea. They’d be toast cut in half and slathered with butter. We were fortified for the walk to school on a chilly morning.

After daylight savings time we mostly stayed in the house after school. The darkness came early. We’d watch TV and wait for supper. My mother would have started cooking supper already. On the stove, the peeled cut potatoes boiled. The meat was cooking sometimes in the oven and other times in a pan on top of the stove. The last piece was the canned veggies opened and put in a pan to heat. My favorite meats were ground beef in gravy and meatloaf frosted in mashed potatoes. I loved just about every vegetable my mother served except maybe the carrots. She’d mix them with the mashed potatoes. I didn’t ever realize they were carrots. She lied.

Around 2:20, something loud woke me up. I thought, at first, it was one of the dogs, but when it happened again, I heard the thunder and the rain. The rain was torrential. The thunder came in rolls. Both dogs looked up but then went back to sleep. This morning the thunder is still loud, constant. The rain is heavy. We could get as much as 2 to 4 inches. The coast has a flood watch. The only saving grace is the warmth, 64°. I chose not to go out to get my newspaper. I’d rather stay dry and warm. The dogs went out then hurried back inside. They are sleeping on the couch. Luckily, neither one is bothered by thunder.

The most amazing storms were in Ghana at the start of the rainy season. Everything was dry from months of no rain. The fields were brown with the remains of last season’s crops. The roads were dust. The water was often turned off so I kept filled buckets in my shower so I could take a bucket bath each night. I became an expert bucket bath taken. The best part was the bucket water was warmer than the cold water from the shower. My students would take their baths after their morning chores and before their classes. I could hear the sounds of the buckets being filled. I’ll never forget the lightning storm, the like of which I hadn’t seen before and haven’t seen since. It was during one of the first storms of the season. The rain water was so constant and heavy it had made rivulets in the dust. The ground was too dry to absorb the water. All of a sudden a bold of lightning hit the ground close to my house. The lightning was jagged. It reminded me of drawings of lightning I used to make when I was a kid. I was breathless, in awe.

I have little ambition today. I think I’ll listen to the storm, drink coffee and read the day away. The thunder continues, a rolling thunder, less ominous. I haven’t seen any lightning. The wind blows intermittently. It is a mighty storm.