Rainy Days

My friend Linda says she loves rainy days. That makes two of us. I love ‘em, too. It wasn’t always thus. Back in my more out-and-about days, rain was a nuisance. But now that I’m mostly a homebody, rain gives me an excuse to not do anything outside. (Not that I need an excuse.) So instead of feeling guilty because I’m not mowing the grass, not trimming the shrubs, or not doing some other boring chore, I can always think, “Rain, doggone it, and I was so looking forward to yard work today."

When I was young and for most of my life, I loved thunderstorms. My parents were not the kind of people to show affection, and when I was just a young sprout they never touched or hugged or kissed me (or each other) or did anything at all to show affection. But my mother was frightened of thunderstorms, so whenever there was a thunderstorm nearby, she would call me and my brother to her bedroom and the three of us would sit on her bed and talk. It was a kind of closeness I never experienced any other time, and I loved it. I came to associate thunderstorms with that feeling of closeness. But that was long ago and memories fade.

I was lying on my couch one night during a thunderstorm, almost dozing, when suddenly there was a flash of light and a huge boom of thunder outside my front window. Lightning had struck my house or very near to my house. The circuit breaker to my kitchen stove was tripped, and a fuse in the garage was burned out. The lightning burned out the power supply in my garage door opener. It didn’t affect the motor, but it became impossible to command the motor to do anything. Spare parts were not available for the old door opener, so I jerry-rigged a workaround that allows me to operate the motor to raise and lower the door. For me, the shine has worn off thunderstorms.

The weather forecast calls for an inch of rain today and the same for tomorrow. My house is quiet with only the patter of raindrops on the metal awnings and the whir of the fan in the heater at my feet. The coming week will have morning showers every day. If it’s cold enough next week, I’ll build a fire in the fireplace and feed it the paper and cardboard I’ve been saving for the recycling truck. Sitting in front of a fire, watching the flames, feeling the warmth, is a kind of heaven, especially on a cold, rainy day.