Posted tagged ‘torrential rain’

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

April 12, 2016

Today I started early with a nine o’cock meeting. When it had finished, I went to the bank, the post office and the grocery store. I got home after eleven and had another cup of coffee while I read my second newspaper and my e-mail. It was while I was reading the local news I realized how tired I was so I decided to take a morning nap. Gracie must have felt the same way because she joined me upstairs. We just woke up. Gracie, though, is now back to napping, and I’m still tired.

When I looked out the window this morning, I saw a cloudy, ugly sort of day. When I went outside to leave, I was surprised at how warm it was. My car said 55˚, almost balmy for this time of year especially with no sun. I knew it was supposed to rain during some part of the day and it did just as I arrived home. All I would have needed was four more minutes so I could have gotten the dog, my packages and me inside without getting wet.

The easiest way to describe the weather is to say it’s a rainy day, but that’s just the beginning. What sort of rain? All rain storms don’t fall from the sky in the same way, but they do have two things in common: they get you wet and all the rain ends up in the same place, down. My favorite description of rain is one my mother used to use. She’d say it was spitting rain, and I knew exactly what she meant. The earlier rain I got stuck in was heavy. My mother would have called it a deluge. Sometimes rain is torrential. Other times it rains cats and dogs. Sprinkling is the lightest of rains. Coming down in buckets is just the opposite. I remember the rain falling on the long windows when I was in elementary school. The drops would hit the windows then drizzle down until they disappeared. When the wind is great, the rain falls sideways. Some storms have pounding rain. They are probably my least favorite because I always get so wet.

My favorites of all storms are in Ghana at the start of the rainy season. After months of no rain the sky turns almost black and the clouds darken the day. All of a sudden the wind and the rain start with unbelievable ferocity. Trees bend under the onslaught. Lightning strikes jaggedly across the sky. I once saw it hit the ground. The dry, hard earth can’t absorb the rain so it forms rivulets which run and make furrows on the ground. Sometimes the rain is so magnificent I can’t catch my breath from the awe of it. I stand and watch until the storm wears itself out and the sun comes back. I know the dry season is over and it will rain just about every day, but it is this first rain which I’ll remember.

“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.

“The trouble with, “A place for everything and everything in its place” is that there’s always more everything than places.”

June 8, 2013

When the rain came yesterday, it arrived with a vengeance and poured all afternoon and evening. I left my window open here in the den so I could hear the heavy drops hitting the deck and trees. The wind was so strong it blew one of my huge umbrellas over, but I was lucky, though, as it missed 4 lanterns attached to the deck rail and three clay pots. My deck is again filled with debris, small branches and leaves, but I’m leaving the cleaning until the deck is dry.

Saturday is usually a busy day on my street, but it is still and quiet outside: no lawnmowers, no kids playing and no dogs barking, a rarity on any day. I went out yesterday to Hyannis and early last evening to dinner with my friend so I have not been housebound, but I feel it anyway. I think the clouds and the rain close in after a while.

Today I have no plans, nothing on my dance card. I might just do laundry; it’s been sitting in the hall for a few days. A while back that would have driven me crazy, and I would have had it finished the same day I brought it downstairs. That was when I still worked. My days had structure back then; they had to so I could get everything done. Now I do my chores whenever the spirit moves me. The laundry doesn’t bother me anymore. I’ll get to it sometime.

I have this cabinet, the one with all the pots and pans, assorted dishes for special occasions, small appliances, bowls and some Tupperware, and I think way in the back of it, in the corner, is a mouse nest. I know the mice are all gone, but I know the nest is still there. Before I started the Great Mouse War, I found gnawed paper towels, a perfect nesting material, soft and comfy. I keep saying I’m going to clean that cabinet, but I have this vision of starting the project, getting too tired to finish and leaving the kitchen floored covered with whatnots from that cabinet. A while back I did clean it, and the cabinet looked great, but right now it’s filled. I don’t even remember what is in the way back. I’m thinking Skip, my factotum, might be just the guy for this project.

“Dear Government… I’m going to have a serious talk with you if I ever find anyone to talk to.”

May 24, 2013

Last night the rains were torrential. When the dog barked and woke me up, I could hear the rain beating on the roof. I called Gracie back upstairs, and she came but was unsettled. She doesn’t mind rain or thunder so I figured she had rung her bells to go out, and I hadn’t heard. The barks were her next hope of waking me. We went downstairs, and I opened the back door. The rain was in sheets and so heavy I could barely see the yard. Gracie poked her head out then right back in again. I insisted she go out, and she did for far longer than I expected. I had translated well Gracie’s barks. When she came inside, she was soaked so I used a towel to dry her. It was 1:30. We both went upstairs. Gracie jumped on the bed and immediately fell asleep. I did not so I started reading and did so for about an hour before I could fall back to sleep. It is still raining but only slightly. Gracie is asleep.

Yesterday Grace, my former student, not to be confused with Gracie, called and said she had been denied a visitor’s visa. I was devastated as I have been so excited about Grace coming to visit in August. For her visa, we had researched everything she needed to bring to the embassy for the interview, including a letter of invitation from me. She even brought a picture of the two of us together plus a deed to her house, copies of her bank account and several other pieces of documentation proving she has ties to Ghana and will return. Not a single piece of all that documentation was read. She was asked a few questions including whether I lived alone and whether she was married. She is and had a letter from her husband supporting her vacation. Visa denied ten minutes later. No reason was given. I am so furious I can’t speak without spitting. I wrote a letter to the embassy with a copy to the State Department visa section, but I suspect that was an exercise in futility. I spent the morning going from US official site to site, made a few phone calls and listened to each menu none of which addressed my need. I’m stymied. We had all our ducks in a row, and the woman at the embassy didn’t care or even notice. I’m not stopping until I find a way for Grace to be heard!

Okay, I feel a bit better for having ranted a bit, but I just don’t get it. We did everything right, and it didn’t matter. Grace and I are but small voices crying in a sea of bureaucracy, and I am bound and gagged by red tape, compliments of the American Embassy in Accra. (Okay I admit those last two might have been a bit over the top!).


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