Posted tagged ‘winter rain’

“I’ve got a great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom.”

March 5, 2016

I want to yell out my window, “I’m mad as hell, and I won’t take it anymore,” but I’d probably freeze myself and the house in the process. March winds blow cold. The sun is a background ornament, bright but useless. Warm weather is supposed to be arriving next week. I hope so as I truly need one deck day to rid myself of winter malaise.

When I was a kid, I never minded winter weather except when it rained. I hated winter rain. I swear my wet clothes used to freeze on the walk home. My jacket stiffened from the ice. My wool mittens got wet and useless. My fingers were red from the cold. Water bubbled from my shoes when I walked. My hair hung down on my face and sometimes dripped onto my neck and down the back of my jacket. Winter rain is relentless.

Summer rain was a gift. It cooled a hot day. Steam would rise from the sidewalks. We’d stay outside and get soaked knowing when the sun reappeared, it would dry our clothes. I’d splash puddles and watch the water fan. We floated paper boats down the rivers streaming in the gutters next to the sidewalks. I’d ride my bike and head for every puddle. I remember taking my feet off the pedals and letting my bike glide through the water. I don’t remember my mother dragging us in when there was thunder and lightning, but I guess she must have. Either that or we were just plain lucky.

Today is chore day. My laundry bag is spilling over. The clean sheets have sat on the chest at the foot of my bed for three days. It’s about time I got to them. The plants need watering. The kitchen needs to be swept. I know as I do one chore two more will pop up. Just now I noticed the wire connecting the computer to electricity was dirty at the top, close to the computer. I stopped writing, went to the kitchen, got a Clorox sheet and cleaned the wire. It is going to be one of those days. I blame it all on winter. Ennui is the perfect description for my mood today.

“Clouds are high flying Fog”

January 12, 2015

Cloudy day today, a storm cloudy day, a rainy day. When I saw the clouds, I knew. I didn’t need to look at the weather prediction. Snow clouds are different. They have an eerie light, almost a warning system. Fair day clouds are puffy and very white. Storm clouds cover the sky and darken the day. The pine tree branches look stark, even bold. A winter rain is bone chilling. I will not be going anywhere today. I am into comfort and warmth.

I started reading a Ghanaian mystery by Kwei Quartey. It is the fourth book of his I’ve read. His plots are simple: murder, investigation and arrest. But I am not drawn to his novels by the plots. It is Ghana. I love reading of places where I’ve been and of things Ghanaian. I know what dinner looks like when it is fufu and stew. The main character was riding through Adabraka, a section of Accra. I knew it well. The hostel was there as was Talal’s, a spot for lunch, for Peace Corps pizza as Talal used to call it: pita bread with tomatoes and melted cheese. A movie theater was within walking distance of the hostel as was a pretty good restaurant. Back then, if you were young and white and asked to go to Adabraka, the taxi driver would take you right to the hostel for twenty pesewas from anywhere in the city. I looked for that hostel as did my friends Bill and Peg. We didn’t find it. So far in the novel, Death at the Voyager Hotel, we haven’t a murder, a death yes but only one person believes it a murder.

A dismal day demands little, and that’s what it will get.

“I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.”

December 8, 2014

Today is so bitingly cold I didn’t even bother to go out to chase the red spawn off the deck away from the birdseed. I did watch from the window and thought of ways to discourage it now that I haven’t the hose. The potato gun is still in the top spot, and one of those blaster squirt guns has made the list. My poor birds can’t get at the feeder so I am determined to rid my yard of this vermin.

The weather is cold, dark, damp and ugly and will stay ugly all week as we’ll have rain for the next few days, and winter rain is seldom welcomed. Even running to the car means getting wet and being cold. The roads get icy. Stopping often means sliding. I sometimes slide right by my street as the icy corner is difficult to maneuver.

I hate scraping my windshield. Sometimes the ice is so thick it takes a monumental effort to clear. Two of the best reasons to retire are not having to scrape the windshield or leave in the dark for work.

I remember when we used to decorate the picture window with snowflakes, stars and snowmen. My mother usually bought the kit which had paper stencils and a spray can of fake snow. One of us would hold the stencil while the other sprayed. We’d take turns. It was a popular decoration when I was a kid, and most houses in my neighborhood had snowflakes on their windows.

My father always decorated the bushes in front of our house with strings of lights. The bulbs on those outside strings were huge and bright. We’d watch my dad from the windows and when he was finished, we’d all run outside to see the lights. My house at Christmas was always beautiful to me. Candles with orange bulbs were in the single windows and a five bulb holder was in the picture window. The bases of all those candles were white plastic, and my mother sometimes had to tape the bases to the windowsills so they wouldn’t fall. Every year we’d pull the old yellow tape off before using the new tape.

Darkness was the best time. We’d plug in the outside lights then run to the windows to turn on the bulbs. That was done by hand, turning each bulb until it lit. Christmas always brought light to the darkness.