If we were having coffee, we’d be huddled indoors with our noses pressed against the windows, which are rain splattered. I’d be drinking a strong cup of tea. What would you be drinking?
It’s our first rainy day in a long time and I’m grateful. We’ve been battling near-drought conditions on my family’s farm, which has been stressful. Irrigating eats up time we need to spend doing other work. We have needed a solid soaking for weeks and it’s finally here! So far, we have gotten over an inch and a half and I expect more will boil up this evening. Continue reading →
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that it hasn’t been the best of weeks. Nothing horrible has happened… things could definitely be worse. But they certainly could be better.
If we were having coffee, you would know that two out of the past five days have been rainy. I love, love, love rainy days… there are few better things than curling up in a lumpy sweater and reading a good book. When you work on a farm, though, rain gets in the way. We were sent home early twice this week because it was simply too wet to do any of the field work that badly needs to get done. Although the extra free time gave me the chance to catch up on much needed around-the-house tasks, I need the pay. Continue reading →
It’s unusual for rain this time of year. After a beautiful Fall, November waltzes in tossing sleet and snow like a flower girl at a wedding. It’s a miserable time–no leaves on the trees, dead grass, and no snow to cover the mess.
Tonight, though. Tonight I’m taking refuge at a friend’s hundred year-old farmhouse. Rain pounds on the window and thunder rumbles through the bones of the building. You can feel the rumble through the floorboards.
Thunderstorms are one of my favorite parts of summer. I love sitting on my front steps with Dad watching the clouds roll in. When the lightning gets too frequent, we move indoors and listen.
Having a storm in November feels like a belated birthday gift.
Maybe reading was just a way to make her feel less alone, to keep her company. When you read something you are stopped, the moment is stayed, you can sometimes be there more fully than you can in your real life.” Helen Humphreys
If you read my last post, you’d know that life isn’t going so well at the moment. Balancing the stresses of a new job is challenging–the learning curve is steeper than anticipated. But, when the busy days and mornings finally give way to my one day off, I open a book and everything is suddenly right again.
Ella Enchanted is one of my all-time favorite reads. It was the first book I ever devoured in one sitting. I was eight. When I open it now, it’s less like reading and more like remembering. When I’m in the pages, the world outside stops and all that matters is the universe in my hands.
I’m in love with you. The thunder that presses against my windows send a shiver of pleasure down my spine. The pattering of raindrops makes me feel cozy and safe.
Yet… How am I supposed to get anything done with your constant pestering?
You inspire the desire to shirk all responsibility. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to spend time with you, to stand in your downpour and get soaked to the skin. I want to soak you in.
I want to curl up in a sweater and leggings in a large chair and watch you transform the normally vibrant colors out the window to a mass of fuzzy grey. I want to drink tea and read poetry aloud, letting the cadence of the words rumble in time with your thunder.
Will you wait for me, Rainy Day? Will you linger until my work is done? Will you save up a whisper so, when I crawl in bed tonight, you can sing me to sleep?
All my love,
This post is inspired by an assignment for the Blogging University class Writing 101: Finding Everyday Inspiration.
If we were having coffee, we’d be lounging on my couch watching rain dribble down the large windows of my living room. My hands would be cupped around my favorite mug covered in Shakespearean insult typography and yours would hold a mug shaped like a large, round penguin. (I hope you like penguins.) Our chat would be a quick one–I have to head to work soon.
After exchanging pleasantries, I would probably spend a great deal of time complaining about the heat. If you live the tropics or desert, you’d scoff and roll your eyes. It’s perfectly justified–eighty-five degrees and humidity, no big deal. But, you see, it’s September. September means sweatshirt-and-shorts weather–the best kind. I don’t think it follows the rules of fashion, but there are few things more satisfying than wearing a sweatshirt and shorts. Is this a Minnesota thing? Or do people where you live do this too? Anyways, as much as I love summer, I am ready for the weather to cooperate with the season. The time for heat is past.
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that my younger brother, Sam, went back to college. In typical little brother fashion, he’s really annoying and drives me crazy most of the time. I would tell you about the weird/creepy things he does, but am reluctant to post such things on the internet for the sake of privacy. So, if we ever meet in person, you’ll just have to ask. I’m going to miss having Sam around. This summer has been the most time I’ve spent with him in four years, since I started college. We worked together every day and now I’m the only child in the house. Who am I going to fight with now?
If we were having coffee, you would hear all about the kittens we found this week. When you live on a farm you usually have barn cats. Our resident mama cat, BooBoo, is pushing fourteen years and has stopped having babies, which means childbearing duties have fallen to our other female cat. She’s had multiple names over the years, but we’ve finally settled on Gollum Kitty due to a cough that persisted most of the summer.
To say it nicely, Gollum Kitty isn’t the most intelligent feline out there. She’s also quite small, despite being two years old. When I heard little mews coming from the bushes by my house, I was shocked to find not a kitten or two (which is usual for Gollum Kitty), but SEVEN. They’re only a couple of weeks old, but their eyes are open and are just starting to explore. Five of them are white with different colored spots, one is sandy with white feet, and one is all black.
When I visit the kittens, I feel like a little kid again. All I want to do is pet them. Last night, during the groggy moments between sleeping and waking, the kittens were always on my mind. I woke up this morning to a thunderstorm and my first thoughts were devoted to their safety. (It turns out, my dad got up early and moved them from the bushes to one of our cat houses. So they’re safe.) It’s only been a day and my parents are sick of hearing me gush about how much I love the little fur balls. They’ve charged me with taming them–a task I’m a little too excited about.
I just glanced at the clock and it’s time to head to work. But before I go–what would you share if we were having coffee?