Filling the Silence

You talk. I listen.

Words slip smoothly from your tongue

To fill up my ears

Rain beats steadily

Drumsticks on the windowpane

Filling the silence

I watched for your car

After all you claimed to be

Puddled around me

(I found the photos on Pinterest. They suited my mood, if not my words.)

Peace, people.

Rainy Saturdays, Nudity, and Ukeleles

The best way to deal with an early Saturday morning thunderstorm is to pour a second cup of coffee, add a generous helping of Irish cream, and let the lightning and thunder rage on outside.

I need to take a shower, and I should be doing chores, but the rain is telling me to wait.

One should always listen to the rain. Unless, that is, the rain is telling you to strip naked and run through the neighborhood playing a ukulele. I won’t make THAT mistake again.

Albert Arthur Allen’s “Nude with Ukelele”

Albert Arthur Allen’s “Nude with Ukelele”

Peace, people!

Forest Storm

Skies darken, winds howl

Acorns fall before raindrops

Squirrels take cover

Deep blue framed window

Mute witness across the lake

Watch the storm with me

Thunder fills the gap

After expectant silence

Lightning left behind

I sat on the screened in porch yesterday afternoon as a storm moved in over the lake. The blue window in the middle picture took on the appearance of a face when I looked at it closely. Then, the bottom photo has a somewhat sinister appearance. See if you can find what I’m talking about. It freaked me out a bit.

Oh, and as I finished typing that last bit we had a very close lightning strike followed by an instant house-rattling clap of thunder. Scout (our cat) and I made a hasty retreat into the house. Whew!

Peace, people!

Inside on a Rainy Day

Is there anything more wonderful than a rainy Sunday morning? Plip plopping drops sluicing down the roof,

Streaking across the window panes in a hurry to puddle up with their brothers and sisters on the driveway.

Dreamers lulled back to sleep by age old rhythms, the roll of thunder, the silence in between, waking to the smell of

Coffee an hour gone by in a blink. Cats snuggled under the covers. One detests the storm; the other relishes

Being present for this unexpected treat of extra time spent pleasantly cuddled on a perfect rainy Sunday. 

Rainy Days and Vacations Always Get Me Down.

Rain is our friend, right? Along with sunshine and good soil rain helps our gardens grow. But this forecast is bringing me down, man.

I’m especially bummed about the forecast for the Tampa area. Studly Doright and I have booked a beachfront suite at a resort in Clearwater, FL, for next week in celebration of our 40th anniversary. Their ten day forecast is as depressing as ours. 

Hopefully this whole mess will clear out by next Thursday. If not, Studly and I have to figure out how to have fun in a hotel room for five days. I should probably bring a deck of cards. And wine. Lots of wine.

Maybe Karen Carpenter can sing me out of my funk:
Peace, people!

morning storm

Woke to rain and the roar of thunder, real damned close, didn’t have to wonder

Mister Seger could’ve counted the seconds between lightning’s flash and the bassist’s

Rumble, but speculation is more poetic, and just maybe he was distracted by the

Lilac scented sky or the percussive rain on a lake and could not be bothered with

Enumerating the gaps. Here, the trees double as targets and shields, but the

Thunder’s reverberations echo through the morning forest and into my soul.

How about a little Bob Seger to start the day? Peace, y’all.

Cloudy with a Chance of Goof Ups

I was almost late to my doctor’s office this morning for my scheduled annual physical, so I didn’t check the forecast. The sky was overcast, but I knew my trusty umbrella was somewhere in the car. No worries.

I knew it was going to be an interesting day when I arrived at the doctor’s office, and the nurse asked, “Did you bring the samples?”

And I said, “Samples? Carpet? Wallpaper?”

“I sent you containers in the mail for urine and stool samples,” she said.

“When did you mail them?”


“Well, they’ll probably be delivered today.”

She eyed me skeptically. “I’m sure you got them.”

I returned her stare. “If I’d gotten them I’d have done my duty (heh!)”

After several long heartbeats she looked away. “You’re going to have to give us a urine sample now. We can send the cup for the stool sample home with you.”

“Well, it’ll probably be there today,” I intoned, trying to keep a straight face.

With an honest to goodness “harrumph!” she indicated that I should go into the restroom where there were paper cups. I knew the drill, so I printed my name and the date on the cup and proceeded to do my thing. 

But when I went to put the cup in the little urine sample compartment I hit the bottom of the cup on the edge of the compartment and, you guessed it, liquid went everywhere. 

So I called for the nurse. She was so not happy with me. I offered to do the clean up, but noooo! Martyr.

Now I lacked any urine in my cup or anywhere else, except for the bit that got splashed on my capris pants. I used a wet wipe to clean that off. Now I have to take a sample back when I’ve managed to produce some.

The visit with the doctor went well. I told him some stuff. He nodded and wrote some prescriptions. But he knows how much I hate to take meds so he asked, “Why do we even bother?” 

“Because you’re an optimist at heart?”

He threatened to throw my chart at me, but I know his aim is as awful as his handwriting, so I didn’t even flinch.

From his office I went for my annual mammogram. The skies had opened up and rain was gushing down in buckets by the time I reached the breast imaging center. I reached into the backseat for my umbrella, and came up with only an atlas and a Publix shopping bag, neither of which make very good umbrellas.

Crap. There I sat in a white T-shirt trying to wait for a lull in the downpour. As the time for my appointment drew near I knew I had to make a dash for it. Gathering my purse to my chest and holding the Publix bag above my head I ran as quickly as my flip flops would allow and arrived at the front door drenched from head to toe.

At that exact moment I remembered that the doctor’s order for the mammogram was sitting on the passenger seat of my car. I cursed creatively and ran back the way from which I’d just come, dodging a close lightning strike on the way.  Taking brief refuge from the storm I sat in my car and laughed. Surely this would be a great blog article, if nothing else. 

I grabbed the bright pink mammogram sheet and scurried back to the center. Checking in with the main desk I took a clipboard and began filling in the necessary information. After turning my paperwork in I went to dry off in the restroom and noticed something odd on the front of my t-shirt:

Pink splotches all over the breast area. That was weird. My soggy purse wasn’t pink, so it didn’t come from there. Then I remembered the mammogram order from the doctor: 


So, my physical’s in the books for this year; although, I have to take in those samples and have some bloodwork done. My annual mammogram is checked off. Clear sailing from here on in. Well, we can always hope. 

It is still raining. And I still can’t find my umbrella. 

Peace, people!