January 23, 2012
I used to love the rain. I thought it was charming and fun. Then I moved out of Southern California and the The Land that Weather Forgot, and I realized that anything is charming and fun when it only happens twice a year. When it happens every day for months straight? It sort of loses its appeal.
Still, it takes a few weeks for my brain to catch up with this idea. So every winter, when it starts the rainy season, my brain shorts out and starts going on and on about how quaint the sound of rain on a tin roof sounds, how delightful it is to jump in puddles, and how there is nothing better in life than a new umbrella and a pair of polka-dot rain boots.
In a week or so when it’s still raining and I haven’t seen blue sky in what seems like a life time, my brain will catch up and remind me that we hate to be wet and cold, we love the sun and heat, and we never want to see another flippin’ mud puddle again.
Until then, I’ll just enjoy the moment.
May 10, 2011
As I was leaning against the porch railing, taking pictures of the rain pouring off of the roof, Jeremy came out to talk to me:
“I just read that we have a winter storm warning until five o’clock: thunder, lightening, and penny-sized hail. Take cover.”
…Five seconds later…
“You do realize this is all your fault, right?”
Yes, dear. I understand. It’s completely my fault. If I could go back in time and keep myself from planting those flowers, I would. However, today it’s sunny and I’m just going to pretend the last few days never happened.
But don’t worry, I won’t be buying any more flowers for a couple of weeks.
May 8, 2011
…but I told you so.
Remember how I said that if I planted my flowers it would turn cold? I planted those flowers. And today?
It’s cold and rainy.
What a terrible thing to be right about. I guess I should be grateful that it’s not snowing.
May 6, 2011
Ever year, I buy flowers and soil and ground cover and then- without fail- as soon as I get them in the ground, it snows. EVERY freakin’ time.
I’m afraid to plant these. It’s supposed to cool off next week. I’m convinced that if I put these in the ground, that cool spell will turn into a cold spell and it will snow. Then the Husband will refuse to make me a fire in the woodstove because it’s only one day of snow. Then I will be cold. I really, really, really hate being cold.
They look nice in their little plastic Home Depot buckets, don’t they? Yes. I think they do.
April 20, 2011
Spring is a beautiful thing. Although, I’m not sure I can call this Spring. I’m still huddling under a blanket and wearing five layers of clothing all day long, but hey- the Redbuds are blooming and there are wildflowers every where you look.
It hasn’t snowed in at least three weeks, so I guess that qualifies for Spring. Now if we can just inch our way out of the 60’s during the day, I’ll be truly happy with the season. Probably. There is still the matter of the random May snowstorm we get every year. It’s like Mother Nature has to throw in that last “screw you” before she finally surrenders and gives me what I want.
What do I want? HEAT. Blissful, radiating heat. I want to bask in all it’s blistering glory and complain about endless sunburns. Yep. That’s heaven to me. Until then I can deal with this Spring teaser.
It is pretty.
March 10, 2011
It’s not Spring. I know this. It’s only March and it always snows here in May. May is when I can claim Spring, no matter what the calendar says.
I won’t be fooled by the 70 degree weather and clean air that makes me throw open every window and every door in the house. However, I will bask in in it’s glory. I will make sun tea and drink it on the porch. I will play outside and dream of Summer.
But I will not get my hopes up that this is Spring.
February 28, 2011
It was sunny and snowing, a weird but beautiful combination.
January 26, 2011
It hasn’t rained here for a while. I’m beginning to think Mother Nature is messing with me. She’s trying to make me think Spring is here but I know that it’s really only January. Any minute now, She’s going to realize I’m not so easily fooled and start the rain and the snow machines up again.
Until then, the Bear and I are going to keep our umbrellas handy.