All day long it has rained.
Rain, rain, rain.
The skies open their gray curtains and water drips everywhere: on grass, on dandelions, on trees, on robins, on hummingbirds, on fawns nursing against Mama Deer.
An old photo of nursing fawn. Not this year. Long-ago.
I stay inside all day. No venturing out to splash in puddles. No venturing down or up the road, admiring lupines and daisies and leaves covered with raindrops.
Nonetheless, it’s a good day. There are books to read. Moments to meditate, to feel Present in the unfolding day. There are Father’s Day phone calls (in which I get to participate!) There is spaghetti simmering on the stove, frozen foccacia bread, coleslaw with my mother’s dressing recipe.
(OK, here is her recipe, because I know someone will ask.)
Joanne’s Coleslaw Dressing
1 c. sugar
1 c. oil
2 t. salt
1 small onion, minced
1/2 c. cider vinegar
1 t. celery seed
1 t. dry mustard
(You know what to do, right? Without me spelling out the particulars? Take all the ingredients and mix together. Add to cabbage, carrots, whatever you use in coleslaw. Yum. OK, you can half the recipe–like I did. You can also cut back on the sugar, like I did. Barry is requesting another recipe of coleslaw tonight cuz he liked this so much. Thanks for the recipe, Mom!)
As for the rain, I am glad about it. We can pause in our wood-splitting activities. Barry and I have been splitting our wood again. It’s a yearly chore. You know the routine.
An old wood-splittin' photo circa 2009. Because it's raining today.
Hook the wood splitter onto the tractor. Pull the splitter next to the wood pile. Start the ’49 Studebaker truck. Back it up to the wood splitter. Start the wood splitter. Adjust the leaking gas. Adjust the choke. Adjust six other things before it’s running without belching smoke.
Ready, set, split your load of wood. Pay attention! Do not let your attention wander one iota, or you’ll be sorry. A stray piece of log will zing off the splitter. Or another log will hit your knee. (OWWW!) Both of you must stop when you get tired or your attention wanders. Safety is of utmost concern.
Thus, when it’s rainy, you get to stay inside. A wood-splitting day off. You’ll be out there again tomorrow, or the next day, or perhaps on Wednesday, so don’t think you’re off the hook. But enjoy today’s rain, for sure.
While the spaghetti noodles boil on the stove, let your gaze linger on the garden. Everything is–finally–growing. It’s been so hard getting those tomatoes and squash and cucumber plants to grow. Sometimes it’s the brocoli and zucchini which protest. Not this year. They’re doing lovely. We think everything is putting roots down deep. We’ll see, after the rain.
Look at those tomato plants, will ya?
Mama Deer is nursing her fawn behind the garage. Photos, you ask? Nah, not a chance. Mama and Fawn-Baby would be gone in three seconds flat, if a camera approached within 300 feet. Instead, just imagine. (Or look at the old photo I inserted up above.)
OK, I must tend dinner. I wish you a Happy Father’s Day, fathers and mothers and children alike. I wish you peace on rainy days. I wish that raindrops enrich and nourish your spirit, sending your roots deep into the earth.
Kick back & relax...rainy day...or not.