It's been raining a lot around here lately. A friend commented that it had rained 6 or 7 inches in the past three days. Friends, family and neighbors are sump-pumping basements with fervor, and in a state riddled with potholes, puddles are everywhere. Rivers and streams are flooding, and I swear earthworms and slugs are preparing to take over the world.
Generally this time of year is one of anticipation and excitement as things are happening at a frantic pace. My older daughter and son have only a few days left of school. And while their after school activities are ramping up with end of year ceremonies, playoffs and make-up games due to rain-outs, the dreaded homework, spelling tests and reading logs have ceased.
This year lends an extra level of giddiness as we've applied to host a Fresh Air Fund child and over the weekend we had our family interview. A couple days of rain and some seriously couped up children didn't help our cause as we pleaded with the kids to just behave during the interview.
Overall the interview went well, but it was not without it's cringeable moments. Once the Fresh Air Fund representative had spoken with the children, I shooed them upstairs to play, hoping to be able to finish the interview in complete sentences. Yet just as the woman asked if we had firearms in our home, Sophie appeared by my side. I asked her what was wrong. She said "I've been shot." Perhaps we should have ended the interview there.
But much like all Mainers do, we will forge ahead regardless of the lingering rain. A rain, that when coupled with early June temperatures, can dampen spirits, chill to the bone, turn children into Nerf gun wielding fiends, and make even the simplest days a challenge to get through.
So today Gillian and I exclaimed "rain be damned" and ventured out for a walk. Of course her proclamation sounded more like "rain de bammed" but I certainly knew what she meant.
We had fun on our rain walk.
Our trek did become a bit tedious when Gillian stopped to say hello to every single slug and worm she saw. Even the really, really tiny ones; ones not seen by the unimaginative, untrained eye of an adult.
She had full conversations with the particularly "cute" ones she discovered. She stomped in puddles. She picked flowers. She listened to birds. She got to carry her kitty cat "vumvella."
Then she didn't want to carry her umbrella anymore. So I did.
Then she didn't want to carry her flowers anymore. So I did.
Then she didn't want to walk anymore. So I carried her too.
Then she decided worms and slugs were not at all cute and needed to be avoided at all costs. So I hot-footed it up our street with the seriousness and dedication of someone walking through a minefield. The last thing I needed were the squeals of a hysterical two-year-old piercing my ear drum.
We had fun on our rain walk, yes we did. At the very least, it was
better more responsible than opening a bottle of wine at 1:30 in the afternoon. Particularly on a day when I needed to be able to navigate my way to the bus stop. In the van.
We had fun on our rain walk, but boy I can't wait for the sun to be back!
P.S. I decided a beer would better suit my mood! Although I forgot to peel the sticker off my orange and I think I just swallowed it. Damn rain!