Monday, December 24, 2007

Singing in the rain

Not seven days ago we were subjected to a blast of winter – almost a foot of snow over the course of the weekend. “Oh how wonderful” I thought “after many years without, we are finally going to have a white Christmas”. But apparently not. Yesterday the temperature shot up to 9 and it rained all day.

Some of the larger snow banks managed to remain, but there is now as much green on the ground now as there is white. It is amazing how quickly things can change with the weather (and yet those fools is Bali did nothing when they had the chance) and yesterday we saw the temperature fall from its rainy high to -4.

I had to venture out in the rain though to get coffee for the boyfriend. Not a drinker of java myself combined with the fact that I am the owner of a coffee pot with a broken carafe, I had to go fetch. My parents were also coming over for brunch to celebrate their anniversary and my dad’s birthday and I thought I might at least be able to find a French press. Not so much on a Sunday morning. We made do with Kwazulu tea.

Sticking my head out the door, I noted it was not only raining, it was pouring (though there was no old man snoring) AND cold. In place of a street, a small river flowed by. Not a fan of cold feet I stepped into my Wellingtons, popped open my Harrod’s umbrella and slipped on my rain slicker.

As I headed towards Rocket Fuel to get a cup-of-Joe for the Boyfriend, I found myself side stepping puddles; at first. I then noticed a few other people in sneakers and dress shoes climbing over melting snow drifts and jumping from the sidewalk over puddles and into the street in a vain effort to keep their feet dry. “What silly pants they are” I thought “doesn’t anyone own proper boots anymore?” It then dawned on me that I was wearing such boots and that I didn’t need to worry about keeping my feet dry.

For the rest of my java journey I happily splashed through the water and actually enjoyed the rain. Truthfully, I don’t care what type of precipitation we get as long as it falls. Our poor rivers and lakes are in such need. I watched the rain fall around the edges of my umbrella and knowing my melon was dry, was very comforting. What little of it was blown onto my coat simply ran down the black rubber and onto the street.

I found myself taking a longer route home so I could enjoy the downpour (sorry if your coffee was a little cold). As I tucked my boots back in the closet, I found myself looking forward to the next time I get to break them out!


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