Posted tagged ‘getting soaked’

“Once the rain starts falling it’s hard to tell it to stop…”

December 9, 2014

The wind is howling and the rain is falling sideways. My backyard trees are again dancing in the wind, back and forth and back and forth. The rain has flooded roads and is falling so heavily that even a quick dash means getting cold and wet. This morning I made four stops. First was the library board meeting, then the post office, then PT and finally the store for life’s essentials: bread, cat food, chicken and a chocolate bar.

I am so happy to be back inside my warm, dry house. When I finish writing, I’m going upstairs and put on my cozies. I bought some clam chowder for dinner. It seemed perfect for a day like today.

Yesterday I brought up a few Christmas decorations from the cellar and later today I hope to decorate some more. The tree in the dining room is lit. I like to go the long way around to the stairs so I get to see the tree. I can hardly wait for the big tree, but now I have to hope for a couple of dry days.

The gold finches have braved the rain and are at the feeder though it swaying in the wind. The red spawn doesn’t seem to like the rain. He is probably in a cozy nest snacking on my sunflower seeds. If he were a character in The Wind in the Willows, his nest would have comfy furniture, a fireplace and a filled pantry. He’d be sitting by the fire with his feet on an ottoman as he drinks afternoon tea from a dainty China cup.

The last wind storm took down several of my outside decorations. I had to go down the side hill which is covered with brush, thorns and branches. Getting down is never the problem. Getting back up always is as I have nothing to hold on to help pull myself up. The other day I threw the ornaments I had retrieved onto the grass above the hill so I could have both hands free. I made it safely up the hill, a major accomplishment for me.

Now to my slippers and my cozies and maybe, just maybe, a nap.

“Well you know what they say. It’s always raining somewhere.”

November 17, 2014

The vet called me yesterday around five. She had gotten the results of Gracie’s Saturday test and wanted me to know. She said the results were wonderful: the irregular heartbeat had lessened. The pills seem to be working. I would have clicked my heels in the air, but that would have been a disaster. I’d have fallen and probably hit my head on a piece of furniture. The vet told me to keep giving Gracie the pills, and she’d see Gracie in six months for another test. That’s easy to remember as I see my cardiologist every six months. Now I can stop watching Gracie and checking her while she sleeps. She’ll stop feeling paranoid.

When I woke up, it was pouring, raining cats and dogs as my mother would say. It was late morning, ten forty-five, as I was up until close to three. Fern was coughing, and I was worried so I read and stayed awake to keep an eye on her. She fell asleep finally and so did I. Gracie, always the stalwart, was already asleep. This morning it was the usual routine: put on the coffee then let Gracie out. I opened the door for her as she never uses the dog door for her first morning outside trip. Gracie went four steps outside and turned around to look at me. Her ears were down and she was slouching. I opened the door and she ran back inside. Now this where the dog is smarter than I. Gracie and I stood at the front door watching the rain. It was still torrential. I could see my newspapers wrapped in plastic on the driveway. Did I want the papers badly enough to get soaked or could I just have my coffee and read the news on-line? I ran out and got the papers. I also got soaked.

“We have lunch at ten-forty-five,” Colin said. A stupidly early lunch. At our school, the older you get, the stupider your lunch period.”

October 14, 2014

On my way back from an early morning meeting, I noticed how many trees have burst into color. I saw yellows and reds and one tree where the leaves were yellow on the edges and red in the middle. Several trees, though, still have green leaves including the ones in my backyard. Full color isn’t expected here on the Cape until close to the end of the month.

When I was a kid, there were no school buses. Everybody walked. The public elementary schools were scattered all over town, but my school was the only Catholic school, and some of my friends walked a mile or more to get there. None of them cared about the walk. It was just part of their day.

We didn’t have a cafeteria so either you went home for lunch or you brought your lunch. Milk was for sale as were candy bars. The milk came in those little containers which were always difficult to open. The candy was in a big lunch box, and you got to pick your bar. It was a nickel. The milk was only 3 cents. It was never really cold.

We had recess every day unless it was raining or single digit cold. Some of us would just stand in groups and talk, and there were always girls jump roping. The boys stayed on one side of the school yard and the girls on the other. It wasn’t a rule, just tradition. The basketball courts were on the boys’ side. They played half court games.

One of the best reasons to go to St. Patrick’s was we got all the holy days of obligation off from school. All Saint’s Day, November 1st, was famous because it was the day after Halloween. We didn’t care about the saints though we did have to go mass. We were just happy we could stay out later trick or treating.

I’d be freezing walking to and from school in the cold of winter and I’d get soaked if it rained. It didn’t matter. None of us ever complained. That’s the way it was back then.

“Nothing reminds us of an awakening more than rain.”

September 5, 2013

I venture to say today is a bit cooler than we’ve been used to of late. It is only 69˚. The rain clouds are back and there is a breeze, from the north, seldom a good sign. My house is dark.

Today I have a few errands and Gracie gets to come with me. Her waiting in her crate days while I venture out are nearly over. In the cold of winter, she gets to ride just about everywhere as I don’t mind leaving her in the car. Next week Gracie has her older dog vet visit. That comes six months after her well-dog visit. She’ll have blood tests and a general physical. I hope all will be well.

It has just started raining.

I loved my old elementary school classrooms when it was raining. The ceilings were high and the windows facing the schoolyard reached  to the ceiling. Watching the raindrops on the windows was somehow mesmerizing. They’d hit the window then roll down and finally disappear. The sound of the rain filled the room, and we always seemed a bit quieter on rainy days. The classroom lights hung down on long wires, and even though they were lit, the room always seemed a little dark. The crafty teachers placed the desks so our backs were to the big windows, but the side windows could be seen from anywhere. The view was of trees and shrubs and a house close to the school, separated only by a fence and the drive-way size entrance to the school yard. The back door of the school faced that little road. I sometimes slipped out that door at the end of school to avoid the crowds exiting the main door. The nuns didn’t care. Once the end of school bell was rung we were on our own.

I always got soaked walking home from school in the rain. My feet would squish in my shoes, my clothes got wet and my hair dripped. I never carried an umbrella. I was never the umbrella type. But getting soaked felt liberating in a way though I wouldn’t have known that word back then, but that’s what it was. I didn’t have a choice but to walk so it was like having permission to be wet even in my school clothes. Sometimes I’d hold out both my arms and raise my face to the rain. I’d close my eyes so I could feel the drops on my face. I know I fell in love with rain on those walks home.

“Oh, hon, it’s the little courtesies that make life bearable, I find, wouldn’t you agree?”

July 26, 2013

Last night the rain started, kept up all night and has just now stopped. This morning, during what my mother would have called a deluge, Gracie and I went out. Between the house and the car, a short distance, I got soaked. Now you’re probably thinking why didn’t this fool use an umbrella or at least a jacket. Well, the umbrella is in the car, and I didn’t even give the jacket a thought. Gracie and I just ran. She got in first. By the time I did, my shirt was soaked, and I was already cold. Why did I go out in the middle of a Noah rain you might be wondering? I needed a blood test, a fasting blood test, and I wanted it over as quickly as possible as my body was screaming for its morning coffee. I was dressed and on the road ten minutes after I woke up. I go to a lab that never seems to have any other people so I was in and out in five minutes, got even wetter running back to the car and right away headed to Dunkin’ Donuts. The line at the drive-up window was long, but it was fast. I got two cups of a coffee and a lemon donut, my treat to myself for getting the errand done and for being soaked. The first things I did when I got home were to change into dry clothes and take a towel to Gracie.

This is the first rain in weeks, and it was a good one. I even had to shut windows last night as it was so chilly and damp. The paper predicts today will be rainy on and off. I’m going nowhere!

I am on a rampage of late. Sometimes I wish I had a cow catcher on the front of my car. I’d use it to move the cars in front of me going around 20 or 25. The driver is usually a gawker who looks to the left and right, never behind. I let people out into traffic all the time, especially those crossing into the other lane. A few wave and thank me. Others just go as if the space I had made was a God-given right of passage. Common courtesy is becoming rarer and heading toward extinction. Because of my surgery, I had to give up 4 seats, two each to two different theaters: one theater’s two seats weren’t super expensive but the other two were, over $60.00 each. I didn’t ask for any money, After all, I had already paid for the season tickets, but a thank you would have been a nice gesture. Not one person bothered to do that. The other day I got cut off by a car coming out of a side street. Sometimes that’s the only way to get on the road here in the summer, but not this time. There wasn’t a single car behind me. A wait of about 5 seconds was all the driver would have needed. I guess that was way too long to wait.

The other day I told a person, “You’re welcome,” after I had held the door for him because his arms full of packages, and he was walking away. He muttered, “Thank you,” under his breath, a coerced response, but I’m hoping he’ll pass it along, this small bit of courtesy.

My mother taught me to be courteous when I was little. Please and thank you were the first lessons. I’m wishing for a resurgence.

Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.

August 11, 2012

Yesterday it rained. Last night it poured. I was at the Cape Playhouse to see Kiss Me Kate when the heavy rain started. It pelted the roof so loudly I saw most of the people in front of me look up as if they were expecting to see drops falling. After what seemed like a long time, the heavy rains were finally quiet. By the time the play was over, the ground had absorbed most of it.

This morning we still have rain, small intermittent drops of rain. Condensation is on the outside of my windows from the AC  interacting with the humidity. It’s what I call the glasses effect. When I leave the cold car, my glasses fog over and I can’t see. I stop and wipe them before I bump into someone or something. It always amuses me a bit.

In the summer, my mother was reluctant at first but after a while was only too happy to let us out of the house when it rained. When we were stuck inside, boredom settled in quickly then the fights started, the he called me this and she called me that sort of fight. My mother always yelled for us to stop, and that worked for a few minutes but then back we’d go to sniping at each other. We’d ask if we could go outside, and she usually agreed. With us gone, peace was restored in the house.

We’d put leaves or paper boats in the gutters and watch them float down the street. We’d whip branches and soak each other. Sometimes we’d take our bikes and ride as fast as we could through puddles so the spray would fly into the air on each side of the bike. We got soaked.

When we’d go back into the house, my mother would make us take off our sneakers then she’d send us upstairs to change into dry clothes. Our feet were usually so wet we always left footprints on the wood floor. I always liked that part.

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