Posted tagged ‘rainy days’

“Nothing in life… Even a few broken bones, is without its reward”

October 9, 2017

The rain started last and has continued intermittently all morning; of course, it started raining when I brought Gracie outside. Isn’t that always the way? The drops were big, and they made a thud sound when they fell on leaves. We both got a little wet.

Last night the arms of Morpheus eluded me. I was awake until almost four. I alternated between reading my new book and watching Netflix where I binged on a documentary about emergency rooms. Each episode highlighted three or four patients. The one that grossed me out was about the guy whose foot had gangrene. It had to be amputated. I watched every episode.

Watching emergency had me thinking about my own medical history. When I was four, I broke my wrist. I was so proud of my cast I showed it off for the camera in a couple of pictures. I have also broken my cheekbone and my shoulder, and I chipped and broke teeth and lost a bit of my lip on one memorable fall down the stairs, which I don’t even remember. My ankle was severely sprained when I fell off the front step after I stepped on an out of place welcome mat, one of the great ironies. That is the entire litany of my injuries which really isn’t too long a list considering how many times I have fallen. I guess I’ve become an expert at mitigating the damage. I’m so proud!

Today I have a list of stuff to do before my guests come tomorrow, but I have to work around the Sox game which may be at one if it isn’t raining in Boston at game time. I figure between innings I can get hurry and some stuff done.

I love rainy days. The darkness in the house is warming in a strange way. I leave candle lights on in the windows and a night light in the bathroom. In this room, the computer is the only light. Gracie is sleeping beside me. She’s snoring. It sounds loud in the quiet house. Yesterday the doors and a couple of windows were open, but today the house is tightly shut to keep the moisture and the cool air at bay. I have to go out later to get a few groceries, and I think it might just be sweatshirt weather.

“Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.”

October 4, 2010

The day is damp and overcast. All the windows are closed. It’s dark in this room. The whole house has a Monday feeling about it. The weather forecast says dreary for most of the week.

I have always felt the coziest on dark, rainy days. I think it dates back to walking home from school in the rain and getting soaked. I’d run into the house, drop my books, hang my dripping coat then dash upstairs to change into warm clothes, sometimes even into my pajamas. If I had a good book, I’d nestled under the covers and read for a bit. My room, except for the light over the headboard of my bed, was dark. I could hear the rain from the window at the foot of my bed. I was warm and dry and happy.

On one vacation, in Maine, I remember a rainy day and a noisy cottage. I took my book, ran outside in the rain to the car and got in the back seat where I stretched out on my stomach and read all afternoon. The raindrops beat on the windows. They were the only sounds.

I remember sitting in school on rainy days. The lights were always lit. The room was quiet as if the rain had subdued us and our noise. Raindrops left rivulets as they fell on the long windows. Sometimes I’d follow one with my eyes until it narrowed and disappeared. The rustling of papers sounded loud. During silent reading, nobody fidgeted. I’d read with my head resting on my arms. Around the room, pages were turned, silently. No one wanted to disturb the quiet.

“My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.”

August 31, 2010

Today I want to conjure the spirit of Mr. Rogers so he can sing It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood because it most decidedly is. A breeze, ever so slight, keeps the sun at bay and makes the deck the perfect spot to spend the day. I do have a few errands, but they shouldn’t take more than an hour then it’s back to the deck.

When I was a kid, I walked to school because my father left early every day to go to work. Most families back then only had that one car, the one our fathers drove, so we all walked. My mother didn’t even learn to drive until she was in her late 30’s. The walk wasn’t a long one and in the fall and spring was a pretty walk on sidewalks shaded by towering trees. Rainy days were the worst for walking. I never carried an umbrella so I always got soaked. My shoes got the worst. As I walked, they sometimes bubbled at the seams from all the water.

Changing into play clothes was the very first thing I always did when I got home from school. On rainy days, my mother would hang up my wet skirt, my uniform skirt, as I only had one. She’d let it dry a bit then iron it while it was still damp. My mother always ironed the clothes when they were slightly damp. It was the easiest way to iron out all the creases.

I sometimes watched my mother iron. She used to take the clothes, sprinkle water on them from a bottle of water with a perforated top she used to keep by the ironing board then fold them and put them in a basket to dampen. This was before steam irons so my mother sort of made her own steam with the water.

At my surprise house warming thirty odd years ago, someone gave me a steam iron as a gift. I still have it. I also have a plastic spray bottle, a descendant of  my mother’s glass bottle. I used it to spray the creases.

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