The drought may scare you to death but the rain will starve you to death.-My Mister, whenever it is discussed

I love the rain.  I know too much is a bad thing and I need the sun desperately but I find rain calming.  Having a tendency to push myself to the point of resentment, I told myself long ago that rain was God telling me to go in, to calm down, to be quiet.  And once the hatches are battened down for the storm, I obey that directive.  

When the Mister is out of town during weeding season, I can get overwhelmed.  Who am I kidding?  When he is in town I can get overwhelmed.  Add to that projects like taking my oven apart and putting it back together, gleaning berries from a friend’s farm, prepping the house for a family to come visit for a week (one is allergic to my cat so I have an unholy amount of cleaning to do) and getting ready for the monthly shopping trip, I can go off the rails in a call-the-preacher kind of way.  

But then the rain comes and I settle down. It is telling me to go sit and write for a few minutes, to enjoy the click clacking of the keyboard (silent keyboards are from Satan himself) and have that coffee I let get cold this morning.

I love it.  I need it.  The parched ground needs it.  Mowing can wait a day or two if I have no choice.  The work in the house can resume after I have enjoyed the mellow from the soft hue brought by the clouds.  

When I am very lucky, I can get some great pictures of the clouds.  I adore cloud pictures, in case you haven’t noticed.  Looking up is how I have trained myself to pay attention to my surroundings and be present, changing my view of where I am in the scheme of things both literally and metaphorically.  

I wonder if people who don’t spend so much time outdoors have the same visceral reaction to weather.  In Barbara Kingsolver’s wonderful book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle she shares an anecdote about leaving the southwest, partially due to the declining water supply there, and a  gas station clerk complaining about much needed impending rain.  It is a striking and alarming story everyone should read.

But now the rain has stopped and I must work until the next storm arrives.

Love from the farm

Happy eating, Katy

P.S. If you ever decide to take your oven apart to really clean it, don’t.  Just throw it away and get a new one.