Well, it is a good thing that I got my little morning walk out of the way at about nine this morning -- cuz now it is raining like a big dog! Like the biggest of dogs, in fact, yet in such a gorgeous way that one might not even mind having one's booth flooded (thinking of the Farmer's Market.)
Looking out the kitchen window, at the trees and the pond, the air seems filled with a silver shimmer, which is actually the rain made visible. I am looking through a silver-grey transparent curtain of rain at the shivering greens of tree and bush and grass, and at the deeper, darker, dancing grey surface of the water. The steady distant roar is the sound the rain is making on the roof above my head - not the usual drumming sound or the raggedy rattle of smaller rain storms, but a single noise, all one, such is the fervor of the falling water.
Chilly, too -- I turned the heaters on briefly this morning, to take the edge off the rooms, which were sort of finger-stiffening in their temperature. After Joe and Nick left, that is.
Yes, last night at midnight the phone rang. And I allowed them to come and spend the night on the floor in the living room. I refused to listen to Joe's explanations of why they needed this ("Nick's Dad is PSYCHO!") because I knew they would probably be untruthful, and didn't want to listen to them. I told them they had to be gone by ten, and then I returned to bed, and listened to the racing, ragged pounding of my heart, until half an hour had passed and I was able to drowse off again.
Oh, and Joe has not taken his GED. Yet.