We began our week with grey. Not a bright grey, but the lovely dark grey that promises rain. This is immensely helpful when getting over a migraine. Those bright overcast days we get in Southern California are horrible for me, and I find that I wear my sunglasses everywhere. Just like my mom, who also gets migraines.
Oh mom. Because of you, I will forever think of our family when I hear “I wear my sunglasses at night.” Of course, I still look like I’m 16, and that’s all because of you- so I can’t really complain.
I love the rain. There is nothing more relaxing to me than the sound of rain, nor anything as wonderful as how clean everything smells while it’s raining and just after it’s rained. More than once, I was working and a co-worker would tell me it was raining so that he could laugh at me frantically saving documents so that I could run outside to feel the rain on my face before the “storm” moved on. (For those not from Southern California, usually our storms are little patches of cloud where it rains- so it’s not unheard of for the much talked about storm that’s coming to only hit a small portion of the area and even then for just a few minutes. But it’ll get coverage on television. I guarantee right now all the local news are on STORMWATCH 2010 with a bunch of rookie reporters sent across the Southland, standing where it isn’t raining, but wearing slickers.)
My boys love the rain, too. Despite the fact that he won’t step in the sprinklers no matter how hot it might be, the littlest one will jump in puddles, stand under where the water drips from an awning and will tilt his little face up to catch the drops of water. Today both have lamented that I wouldn’t let them play in the rain. We weren’t talking about playing in the backyard in our driveway. No, they wanted to play on the wooden trolley in front of their school. Where the ground is usually muddy anyways, but especially muddy when it’s raining. And the steps would be wet and slippery.
I know they love the rain. But just imagining them playing on it was giving me visions of a trip to the Emergency Room. Not my idea of a swell day.