Rain, Rain, Go Away
Come again another day.
I am not singing that song today. Its raining and that is fine with me.
It poured yesterday, hard rain. My cell phone beeped all day with weather alerts - storm warnings, flood warnings. I don't know where the floods happened but we had drenching rain - rain beating on the windows and the roof and splashing on the skylights. The dog waited as long as she could before she would dash outside and back.
Today the ground is soaked. And being wet through has taken away the stink from the new mulch.
It is still raining. And I am glad.
A good time to stay home: catch up: get work done.
I love this kind of day. Nothing better than being snowed in or in this case rained in - for narrowing my focus and keeping me on my list.
So that I can feel "out from under".
I asked Karen yesterday if she saw the smoke coming out of my office - "What?"
I just meant I was getting so much done surely the computer was "smoking".
Behind the stories, storytelling runs on "paper work". Letters, invoices, calendars, etc. etc. etc. And when you drop-out for ten days as I have with Jim in the hospital it like untangling slippery yarn to get it back together.
And, the filing.
Clippings of ideas, receipts, letters, photographs etc, etc, etc. I am a "keeper". You never know what will come in handy.
Besides that, I am looking for something for a story I am working on. I didn't find what I wanted but in the search I found a copy of a letter from my Dad when he was in India during WWII. Ten years ago my aunt Katherine found it among her papers, copied it and sent it to me. She gave the original to Mama - because it was a letter to Mama. Who knows how it got into Koki's papers.
The letter opens, "My, darling." and continues on to describe where he was and what he had been doing in the enclosed snapshots of a day off the base. I don't have the photos but I remember them - and when he sent them home he numbered them. A reminder of how organized he was.
Daddy closes the letter saying, "I have not been getting many letters from Ellouise. I like to hear from her. I have written and told her to write more." ( I was nine years old, in the third grade at Sacred Heart at the time.)
A treasure find on a rainy day.