You know, before when it rained... (and by rained, I mean that water sluices down in sheets, all day, from low-hanging leaden clouds), it meant that the garden would be soaked and everything that had looked wilted and parched would be given a new lease on life. It meant that flowers would suddenly bloom. It meant that the grass would turn a fresh and electric green, and feel springy underfoot. It would also mean that I would watch with great excitement as the rain barrel filled to over-flowing, and a feeling of security for the future well-being of the garden would settle in. A good Texas deluge would mean the much anticipated thrill of seeing Joe Tanner closed as water swirled dangerously over the road from flash flooding. Rain was joyful. Rain inspired dancing barefoot. But that was before.
Now...? well now, rain means Indoor. Recess. Every elementary teacher's nightmare. Rain now means six year old children cooped up in your closet-sized classroom, clearly displaying the well-known scientific fact that their energy level increases in inverse proportion to the amount of time they are able to spend outside. As they are not able to spend any time outside, they are all on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Rain now means that you are stuck in the same small room as children who have not yet absorbed the meaning of "indoor voices." Rain now means you must spend the day with ten children who are closer in spirit to puppies or poltergeists than humans. Rain now means that you must plumb hitherto unknown depths of patience and in the end resort to the last and only means of saving your sanity. Yes, now a rainy day means sitting in a room that could be mistaken for a tornado, and finding salvation in the laminating machine. Yes, the laminating machine. Why? Because every piece of paper you slide in one side, comes out shiny and plasticated on the other. You can derive a great deal of satisfaction from a laminating machine.
Oh sure, if you've the luxury of writing a garden blog you can post about all the lovely rain, and what it is doing for your plants. I live in a different world now. A wilder, messier, noisier, bug bite, paper cut, you aren't my friend, I can't find my coat, my finger hurts, broken pencil, lost eraser kind of a world. All in all, an insane world, but kind of fun sometimes too.
Now...? well now, rain means Indoor. Recess. Every elementary teacher's nightmare. Rain now means six year old children cooped up in your closet-sized classroom, clearly displaying the well-known scientific fact that their energy level increases in inverse proportion to the amount of time they are able to spend outside. As they are not able to spend any time outside, they are all on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Rain now means that you are stuck in the same small room as children who have not yet absorbed the meaning of "indoor voices." Rain now means you must spend the day with ten children who are closer in spirit to puppies or poltergeists than humans. Rain now means that you must plumb hitherto unknown depths of patience and in the end resort to the last and only means of saving your sanity. Yes, now a rainy day means sitting in a room that could be mistaken for a tornado, and finding salvation in the laminating machine. Yes, the laminating machine. Why? Because every piece of paper you slide in one side, comes out shiny and plasticated on the other. You can derive a great deal of satisfaction from a laminating machine.
Oh sure, if you've the luxury of writing a garden blog you can post about all the lovely rain, and what it is doing for your plants. I live in a different world now. A wilder, messier, noisier, bug bite, paper cut, you aren't my friend, I can't find my coat, my finger hurts, broken pencil, lost eraser kind of a world. All in all, an insane world, but kind of fun sometimes too.
You are very sweet!
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