Something about a rainy day brings me back to childhood. I no longer 'play' outside on sunny days so why should it make a difference? Yet, difference there is. My muscles and bones ache and I have no energy (or so I tell myself) to start a project. All I want to do is sit in a chair and read, occasionally getting up to stuff my face, to stop the stomach gurglings.
If it rains all day and I can rationalize there is nothing I HAVE to do, I can eliminate the several minutes it takes to get dressed. My furniture and the books I read do not care about my appearance. But rain means something different to many people. It makes grass grow when you can't get it mowed and can only wish you had a goat on your lawn.
If you are so unfortunate as to suffer a basement water problem or be in a flood plain, filling sandbags must not be fun and wading indoors even less comfortable. (Watching your belongings float around the basement is even worse.) I can't imagine the horror of sewer systems backing up!
However, when it is just normal rain, the gentle tapping on roof windows, the muted light, the fresh green outside makes it not unpleasant. When your hairdo does not suffer getting wet, you can even happily go out in the car and run errands without having to locate sunglasses. Nature seems forgets to keep a proper balance. I'm not complaining (as I listen to the 110 degree temperatures around the country, the tornadoes, hurricanes, forest fires, and whatever else people are subjected to by Mother Nature). Insensitively, I silently think, "Better you than I". I can tolerate the snow in NE winters and the cold. I am forced to tolerate the price of staying warm in the winter but I do not have to watch my house float down the river, burn up, or disappear in a gap created by an earthquake or sink hole. No, indeed, I can just hunker down in a comfy chair and imagine all the things I could do if it wasn't raining. It's almost as good as being there!
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