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Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Rainy days...

We are on our third rainy day in a row.  Although we desperately need the rain here, it's been three continuous days of sprinkling with intermittent thunderstorms.  I am feeling a little melancholy and out of sorts.  This rain makes me think of the shack we lived in for a summer in Turtletown, Tennessee when I was a little girl.


This picture is not the actual shack.  I am sure that one is long gone.  However, this one is similar in many ways.  The roof over the porch was not falling down, but the house looked beaten up and weathered, like this one.  The shack we lived in sat on the side of a hill, so the front was on stilts and under the house was where we did our laundry in the old washer (another story.)  But just so you can get a visual, this one will do.

Now, imagine this house surrounded by woods on a dreary, gray rainy day that soaks the spongy ground and you can start to feel my mood. 

When it rained, that metal roof (which was just as rusty and old as the one in the photo) leaked.  We had buckets all over the place.  There was no inner ceiling, you just looked up at the metal roof. The sound of the rain on that roof depended on how hard it was raining.  When it sprinkled, it was a soft sound that was almost like white noise turned down low...kind of soothing.  When it poured, forget about conversations. 

When it rained like that, there was really only one thing to do...take a nap.  As a kid, I hated taking naps.  I especially hated trying to take a nap in a bed with my mother, who couldn't fall asleep if anyone was moving around.  My sister and I were wiggly and fidgety when we tried to settle down for a nap with my mom.  This stressed her out and made it difficult for all of us to relax.  As a kid in that shack with nothing else to do, I hated rainy days.

Now, as an adult, I almost wish I could go back to that shack and listen to the rain on the roof.  I would like to lie down on a soft, comfy bed with white cotton sheets.  The windows would be open because there was no air conditioner in that little house.  The breeze would blow slightly and I would lie down with the man I love and he would hold me from behind and kiss me on my neck and we would fall asleep...safe in our little old house with the leaky metal roof.

4 comments:

Katie @ Chicken Noodle Gravy said...

What a lovely thought. As you were describing the shack and the sound of the rain, I longed for it myself. Sometimes it takes growing up to really appreciate something...

BettyShmetty said...

Isn't that the truth Katie? If only our grown-up experienced brains could be connected with a kid's body...what fun we could have!

AllyCat said...

A hard rain has a wonderful way of cleansing the soul and getting it ready for the warmth of the bright sunshine to follow. Thanks for the wonderful imagery... Just surfing by....

Anonymous said...

Funny how time changes perspective. How you are able to look back now and find the good in a bad situation. Isn't it true that if you're with the man you love, no matter where, the world is a perfect place?

As you described the shack and the woods and the rain, all I could think was that it seemed like a secret place. Hidden away and simple. If only we could take our grown up happiness and healthy relationships and go back to those places.

Keep going, Diana!