Rain, Rain

It’s been raining for most of the night, all morning, and will continue for several more hours. This sort of puts the kibosh on my plans for the day, but one thing I would never say (or even mean) are the words to that old ditty, “Rain, rain, go away.” In a drought-ridden area, we need all the rain we can get, even if it’s inconvenient, even if it overruns the drainage system. (The poorly conceived drainage system, I might add.) It’s a good thing I don’t have to work today. The last time it rained so much that the gutters overflowed, it took me more than thirty minutes to trek the two blocks to where I work. Actually, that day it was more than two blocks. By the time I detoured around all the flooded areas, I must have walked close to a mile. Luckily, I brought an extra pair of shoes that day, so I didn’t have to wear wet shoes while I was there.

[I took a break here to look up kibosh. It’s one of those English words that’s been around for a long time, since the early nineteenth century at least, though no one knows where it came from. One interesting theory is that it’s from a Gaelic word meaning “death cap,” which could refer to either the cap the judge put on to pronounce sentence, or the black hood that was placed over someone’s head before they were hanged. Hanging, for sure, would put the kibosh on someone’s life!]

My mention of things I would never say reminded me of an anecdote I read the other day. A new mother was at home recuperating from a Caesarian section. The father had to go to the grocery store and took the baby with him to give his wife some rest. An old woman came up to him and berated his absent wife for letting him take the baby. He responded, “My wife died in childbirth.” That shut the old woman up, but it gave me the shudders. I would never be able to say anything like that for fear that I’d go home to find the person dead for real.

I suppose it’s superstitious of me to refrain from saying certain things lest they happen because generally things don’t happen that way. Words may not really have that sort of power, but they are powerful. Just think of what happens when you tell someone you love them. Now those are magical words!

But I’m getting off the topic of . . . whatever my topic was. Rain, I guess, since that’s what I started with. It’s kind of nice having such a rainy day since nothing can be done. Well, things could be done, such as the errands I was going to run today, but there’s no reason to brave the weather today when tomorrow will be warm and sunny though probably very humid.

I have a couple of unread library books, a cozy place to read, and lots of tea. Sounds like a good rain day, to me.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

Lovely Lazy Day

It rained most of the day, which was very nice because . . . well, because, for one thing, rain means it was warm enough that we didn’t get the snow so much of the state received, and that means I won’t have to spend this evening or tomorrow morning shoveling snow.

For another thing, rain means I don’t have to water my outside plants. It’s been so dry, I’ve been thinking I need to drag out my hoses to prevent everything from succumbing to the drought, but whew! I won’t have to do that chore quite yet. Even better, because of the rain, tulips from last spring that I thought were dead have managed to resuscitate themselves. I still don’t know whether I will have flowers, but the green tips peeping up from the soil are a welcome sight.

And finally, rain means that I can be lazy without having to offer excuses why I’m not out running errands, or cleaning up the yard in preparation for spring, or taking a walk, or any number of things I could be doing. Not that I would be doing these activities, you understand. It’s that I have an excuse not to do them, rather than having to face the truth of my indolence.

I started the day as I normally do, with a some stretching, picking a tarot card to study, folding a few origami cranes, reading (lots of reading!), playing a game on the computer, fixing myself a bite to eat (several bites, actually — I don’t eat much, but even I need more than a single bite for subsistence), coming up with a new password for online banking (the passwords become defunct every six months), and staring out the window at the miraculous sight of water falling from the sky.

I even caught up with a friend via telephone, and now here I am, posting to this blog.

Listing everything I’ve done suddenly makes it seem as if it wasn’t such a lazy rain day after all. But it certainly was lovely for all that.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God

Lazy Days

I am taking a hiatus from travel for a week. I was offered a place to stay in Stevens Point, Wisconsin, while a friend went out of town, and I jumped at the offer. I’ve been moving around for so long, driving vast miles (9,000 miles seems vast to me, anyway), that I’ve sort of lost trrainbowack of myself — I could be anywhere. At times, it’s disconcerting to realize I am so very far from where I’ve lived the past few years, so far from anything familiar, and yet, in a way it’s all familiar.

A gray, rainy day in a room in an apartment in Wisconsin is not a whole lot different from a gray, rainy day in a room in house in the desert.

Lazy days.

I had planned to get recentered while I was here. Stretching every day (which I actually have been doing). Walking every day (which I have only done a couple of times because of the rain). Eating better (which I hava bit better, anyway — more vegetables, more protein, no wheat, only trace amounts of sugar).

I sit here staring out the window, thinking of all the things I could be doing if I weren’t so lazy — working on my dance class novel. Shopping to replenish my stores for the last few weeks of my journey. Repacking my car.

That’s what I really need to be doing. Repacking.

I unloaded all my gear before I took the bug to a mechanic because it was going to be at his shop for a few days, and it didn’t seem prudent to leave everything in the car. If it were just a matter of stuffing it all back in, I could do that before I leave on Sunday, but I need to reorganize. During my more than three months on the road, and despite my best efforts at being disciplined, things have become a bit discombobulated. Maps unfolded, used bottles stuffed in any which way, scraps of trash, accumulations to be organized.

And yet here I sit, staring out the window. Occasionally I drag my attention back to this page, but then, I lose focus again.

Lazy days.

***

(Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.”)