It’s pouring outside. The rain is coming down big, fast and hard.
Within five minutes of looking out my window at the rain, I saw one jr high kid walking home from school with a huge backpack, and another walk out of his house, get on his bike and ride down the street as he does every school day.
Both boys were hooded against the rain. Both were soaking wet almost surely within a minute. The kid on foot was alternately jogging in discomfort and walking in dejection.
I tried to remember the last time I got soaked by a rainstorm. I couldn't.
I thought about stepping outside and getting soaked, for the fun of it.
But the kids didn’t look like they were having fun.
I thought of the kitchen painting I wanted to start today, and how I’d have to change clothes and shoes once I got wet.
Getting soaked might be fun, but inconvenient. Like outside sex.
Is that a sign of getting old?
Now that it’s passed, I wished I'd done it.
Regrets.
Showing posts with label thunder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thunder. Show all posts
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Saturday, December 30, 2006
A BRIEF INTERLUDE TO MY TOP 10 BLOGGING
Lightning and thunder removed the luxury of electricity from my neighborhood last night. It happened around 6:20 PM.
I was sitting at my desk when the darkness came, and felt for a nearby lighter. Using the lighter, I located the first of many candles. Carrying a lit candle through the house put me in touch with my inner Little House on the Prairie kid.
After several candles were lit, my home gave off the esthetic of an old, romantic movie set. My own Friday night film noir.
I located the first of three flashlights. It came on for three seconds then quickly dimmed to darkness. I took a candle to my battery drawer to locate the big D size batteries needed to give my flashlight life.
After some searching, I made a note to myself to put big D batteries on the shopping list.
My late husband’s police flashlight laid in the bottom of the drawer. It’s a big, black, heavy, metal light that can also be used to clobber someone. Though I can’t recall using it in years, when I press the on button, it brightly lights up and stays lit. His light still shines when needed.
Next I find a little clip-on flashlight that only takes two of the plentiful AA batteries I have on hand.
So now I’m well lit. Hey, why not make an adult beverage?
Leftover Xmas eggnog and Jim Beam are soon mixed in my glass with a couple of cubes. I sit in the big chair and enjoy the sweetness. Now what?
Being alone may not make holidays miserable (see earlier posting), but it sure makes a night without electricity go slow. What time is it now--6:30?
The air around me is scented with burning candle scents of Vanilla, Pear, Ginger and Lavender. I’m drinking a nectar of the winter solstice. There are no sounds, no intrusions.
What a perfect time to make love. This atmosphere begs for a lover.
Alone, even my favorite vibrator needs a live current; so I do without.
I let the flickering reflections of the candle flames on the French doors put me in a state of contemplation. Instead of noticing how quiet it’s become, I realize how noisy life is normally. I begin to revel in the quiet, much more comfortable with my one-ness. It’s nothing to be scared of, you know.
The hard rain comes again along with more thunder and lightning. My long-legged Greyhound paces around me. I’m glad the candles are enclosed in glass jars, since the coffee table where some set, is the same height as her stomach. Serendipitous foresight!
"Not into candle-play!"
So I began giving the Greyhound a homeopathic brush massage, attempting to calm her. We were both really getting into it, when something clicked and the lights and TV came back on, just like that.
First thing out of my mouth was a sad “awwww.” I would remain untested in this challenge of the unplugged. I think I was up to it, too.
The lights are now on, along with the TV. The Beam & Nog is gone. The dog is sleeping. The cat has come out of hiding. The electric life resumes.
Better kill the candlelight. Don’t want to start a fire.
Gender Differences
“I’ll let you play with my boobs if you’ll meet me at Winstar and give me money to gamble with. I’m old, fat and soft. I have big boobs.”
A woman reading the above online ad disgustedly thinks “Whore! Slut! How demeaning!”
A man reading the above thinks “She sounds like fun. I wonder what she looks like?”
No wonder we find each other fascinating.
I was sitting at my desk when the darkness came, and felt for a nearby lighter. Using the lighter, I located the first of many candles. Carrying a lit candle through the house put me in touch with my inner Little House on the Prairie kid.
After several candles were lit, my home gave off the esthetic of an old, romantic movie set. My own Friday night film noir.
I located the first of three flashlights. It came on for three seconds then quickly dimmed to darkness. I took a candle to my battery drawer to locate the big D size batteries needed to give my flashlight life.
After some searching, I made a note to myself to put big D batteries on the shopping list.
My late husband’s police flashlight laid in the bottom of the drawer. It’s a big, black, heavy, metal light that can also be used to clobber someone. Though I can’t recall using it in years, when I press the on button, it brightly lights up and stays lit. His light still shines when needed.
Next I find a little clip-on flashlight that only takes two of the plentiful AA batteries I have on hand.
So now I’m well lit. Hey, why not make an adult beverage?
Leftover Xmas eggnog and Jim Beam are soon mixed in my glass with a couple of cubes. I sit in the big chair and enjoy the sweetness. Now what?
Being alone may not make holidays miserable (see earlier posting), but it sure makes a night without electricity go slow. What time is it now--6:30?
The air around me is scented with burning candle scents of Vanilla, Pear, Ginger and Lavender. I’m drinking a nectar of the winter solstice. There are no sounds, no intrusions.
What a perfect time to make love. This atmosphere begs for a lover.
Alone, even my favorite vibrator needs a live current; so I do without.
I let the flickering reflections of the candle flames on the French doors put me in a state of contemplation. Instead of noticing how quiet it’s become, I realize how noisy life is normally. I begin to revel in the quiet, much more comfortable with my one-ness. It’s nothing to be scared of, you know.
The hard rain comes again along with more thunder and lightning. My long-legged Greyhound paces around me. I’m glad the candles are enclosed in glass jars, since the coffee table where some set, is the same height as her stomach. Serendipitous foresight!
"Not into candle-play!"
So I began giving the Greyhound a homeopathic brush massage, attempting to calm her. We were both really getting into it, when something clicked and the lights and TV came back on, just like that.
First thing out of my mouth was a sad “awwww.” I would remain untested in this challenge of the unplugged. I think I was up to it, too.
The lights are now on, along with the TV. The Beam & Nog is gone. The dog is sleeping. The cat has come out of hiding. The electric life resumes.
Better kill the candlelight. Don’t want to start a fire.
Gender Differences
“I’ll let you play with my boobs if you’ll meet me at Winstar and give me money to gamble with. I’m old, fat and soft. I have big boobs.”
A woman reading the above online ad disgustedly thinks “Whore! Slut! How demeaning!”
A man reading the above thinks “She sounds like fun. I wonder what she looks like?”
No wonder we find each other fascinating.
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