My world is awash. It started raining yesterday and is still raining. It isn’t a heavy rain, but it is a noisy rain. I love it. The dogs don’t mind the rain. They do leave paw prints in the kitchen despite the rug by the door so I see washing the floor in my future. Right now it is their nap time. After all, they have been awake for about an hour.

When I applied for the Peace Corps, I wrote my preferences for placement as South or Latin America. My parents didn’t even know I had applied so I chose Latin or South American as I figured those places would be easier for my parents to accept, not so far away, somehow a bit familiar. When I was accepted for Ghana, I was over the moon. I couldn’t even imagine living in Africa. I accepted right away. The next hurtle was telling my parents, especially my father. I knew Africa would be a problem. I told my mother first. I asked her to tell my father. I just didn’t want to hear him. She reluctantly agreed. I called a day later. My father screamed, said some unkindly things about Africa and forbade me to go. I would have laughed outright but that seemed just the wrong time. I said I was going. He said he would stop sending money. I would have to support myself for my last semester of college. I said fine knowing that would never happen. It was one of his idle threats. I hung up on him when he started yelling again. That was where we left it.

I had to go home the next weekend as my parents were going to an off-Cape wedding and needed me to stay with my sisters. I persuaded a friend to come with me. He said I was using him. I said I was. My father picked us up at the bus station. He did not talk to me, only to my friend. It was sort of amusing. They all left the next morning.

My father finally accepted my choice. He never did stop sending money. Later, I found out he had talked to a friend of mine who convinced him this was a good thing. The preparations began. I had five months from acceptance to departure. I was allowed 80 pounds of luggage. I had a list from Peace Corps with suggested packing items. Women wore only dresses so that was first. I also had some skirts which would work, but we needed to shop. Check! We bought luggage, an Instamatic, the height of new technology, slide film, plenty of underwear, toiletries, sandals and sheets and towels. Those were the main items.

Peace Corps had sent me a bus ticket from Boston to Philadelphia for staging as I didn’t live far enough away for a plane ticket. My father bought the plane ticket. We drove to Boston, to Logan. We didn’t talk much. I think we were all afraid to talk. We walked to the gate together. I have mentioned before the hugs and that last view of my parents, and my mother’s little wave. There is more to this story, this start of my journey, but I’ll end here. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.

The rain came last night. It was heavy at times. It stopped but started again a while later. The weather for today is rain on and off. The air has a damp chilly breeze, but I love it after all that heat.

The dogs and I slept upstairs last night. It was the sleep of the dead. The morning had already started when I went to bed. The light had come, and the birds were singing. I slept until 12:30. My Monday night concert is already cancelled because of the weather prediction. I’m okay with that. We have two more concerts this week.

I watched a mouse here in the den come out, see me then run and hide. The beastie did it a couple of times. I set a trap and caught it, but I don’t think it was the same mouse. I’m going to reset the trap.

When I was a kid, I didn’t know anyone who played a musical instrument. My foray into the world of music had been a triangle in the rhythm band and a tin flute the nuns taught us to play in the third grade. My grandparents had a piano, but it was a status symbol and sat unused in the living room. Never did I imagine I would learn to play any instrument. Big Brother Bob Emery and Arthur Godfrey played ukes, but I always thought of ukes as mini guitars. I can actually play music now. I love my uke, have two of them. The one I use most times was a Christmas present from my sister. The other came from a friend. It had belonged to his sister who passed away. I cherish both my ukes, my very wonderful gifts.

When I was a kid, the future was the next day or even that day after school. I had no answer when my aunt the nun asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. I always made up the answer. Writing a Christmas list was one of the few look to the future things I did. I remember hoping for a bike, putting it first on my list. My mother taught me to ride. I can still see in my mind’s eye when I finally figured it out. We were on the road in front of the house. I was on my own headed to the hill. I got scared and fell off. I remember counting the days until Christmas and to my birthday. I needed to count to see so far into the future.

I’m back to thinking of the future as a day or two in front of me. That’s about as far as I need to see.