Weathering best & worst
It rained this week. I know you’re thinking that’s pretty lame news. As in, when you’ve got nothing to say, talk about the weather. But it really was exciting. The sky clouded up. It got darker and darker. And that wonderful smell of ozone was in the air.
I said to Bill, "Do you think it’s going to rain?"
He answered something like, "I hope so."
Probably a half hour later it began. At first just a few scattered sprinkles. Then it started coming down as if it were in buckets. We sat on the front porch together and watched it. My side of the swing was getting most of what was carried on the wind, so I made Bill switch places with me. My mother would have said, "You’re not made of sugar, young lady!" But the truth is, I am.
Now if you’re not living in south Texas in the summer of 2008, or in the southwest generally or northern California or the Sahara, then you’d probably think that we’re pretty crazy to sit on our porch to watch the rain. But this June was the driest on record. We’ve only had six inches of precipitation since last September. And we were days away from water restrictions.
But then it rained and rained and rained and rained again. Today I was at lunch with three of my Slacker girlfriends and we lingered over coffee as we watched the downpour through the windows.
My girlfriends and I, known to ourselves as The Slackers, have been together about fifteen years. There are seven of us now. We sort of ran into each other over writing. Some of us are multi-published, some slightly published, some not yet published and maybe a couple who’ve thrown in the towel on getting published. Writing brought us together, but it’s not what keeps us together.
We’ve shared a lot. We’ve bought each other gag gifts that nearly made us gag. We’ve analyzed each others children and listened to each others complaints about husbands. We’ve been through deaths and divorces. We’ve danced at weddings. We’ve worried about health. And we’ve even tried to remove an orange aura seen by a fortune teller in New Orleans. Don’t know if that worked, we didn’t go back to the fortune teller to find out.
We’ve drank too much. We’ve laughed too loud. And we’ve cried like our hearts were breaking.
And today was no different. Some great news, some good news, some not so great news.
Like the weather, things can be lush and wonderful for so long, that we forget how bad things can be. Then the troubles come and we feel like we’ll never get past them.
I try to believe that the rain will always come. That no matter how long it’s been since all that cool goodness has poured down on us, it will always come again. Some days that’s enough to get me through.
Or as Natalie said one Thanksgiving when she was still just a little girl, "I’m grateful that nobody is in prison."
I said to Bill, "Do you think it’s going to rain?"
He answered something like, "I hope so."
Probably a half hour later it began. At first just a few scattered sprinkles. Then it started coming down as if it were in buckets. We sat on the front porch together and watched it. My side of the swing was getting most of what was carried on the wind, so I made Bill switch places with me. My mother would have said, "You’re not made of sugar, young lady!" But the truth is, I am.
Now if you’re not living in south Texas in the summer of 2008, or in the southwest generally or northern California or the Sahara, then you’d probably think that we’re pretty crazy to sit on our porch to watch the rain. But this June was the driest on record. We’ve only had six inches of precipitation since last September. And we were days away from water restrictions.
But then it rained and rained and rained and rained again. Today I was at lunch with three of my Slacker girlfriends and we lingered over coffee as we watched the downpour through the windows.
My girlfriends and I, known to ourselves as The Slackers, have been together about fifteen years. There are seven of us now. We sort of ran into each other over writing. Some of us are multi-published, some slightly published, some not yet published and maybe a couple who’ve thrown in the towel on getting published. Writing brought us together, but it’s not what keeps us together.
We’ve shared a lot. We’ve bought each other gag gifts that nearly made us gag. We’ve analyzed each others children and listened to each others complaints about husbands. We’ve been through deaths and divorces. We’ve danced at weddings. We’ve worried about health. And we’ve even tried to remove an orange aura seen by a fortune teller in New Orleans. Don’t know if that worked, we didn’t go back to the fortune teller to find out.
We’ve drank too much. We’ve laughed too loud. And we’ve cried like our hearts were breaking.
And today was no different. Some great news, some good news, some not so great news.
Like the weather, things can be lush and wonderful for so long, that we forget how bad things can be. Then the troubles come and we feel like we’ll never get past them.
I try to believe that the rain will always come. That no matter how long it’s been since all that cool goodness has poured down on us, it will always come again. Some days that’s enough to get me through.
Or as Natalie said one Thanksgiving when she was still just a little girl, "I’m grateful that nobody is in prison."
posted by Pamela Morsi | 10:23 PM
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