It’s raining and the weather forecast is calling for more. In a few days I will feel trapped in my house, longing to see something brighter than my daughter’s yellow umbrella. In a few days — or heck, who am I kidding? a few hours — I will be checking the basement for water and searching for the wet vac and trying to stop the kids from yelling at each other over who ate the last pumpkin bar. I will be urging everyone to help me clean the sun room, which everyone will rebel against based on the fact that there isn’t any sun. I will be reading news reports about flooding and falling trees and hurricanes.
But for now, at the beginning of the storm, I am loving the thrum of the rain on my roof, the cat yawning in my lap, the smell of chicken and dumplings bubbling in the crock pot.
For now I am loving that the rain is giving my family an excuse to stop. To read. To be as lazy as this gray day will allow.
We’re not rushing off to afternoon soccer practice. This weekend’s games will likely be cancelled, too, so for a moment, I imagine putting something different on our schedule — something new and out of the routine. Maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll find some old movies, black and white to match the sky. Maybe I’ll just stay here with the cat, listen to the thrum, and write.
