And The Rain Falls Down

It is raining as if all the rain we haven't gotten in the past few months has suddenly decided to fall in one fell swoop. It is raining drumbeats. It is raining rivers. it is raining sloshing big slashes of water.
And then, even as I write, it settles down a little.
But still, it is a hard rain.

A long day today. I got my Owen boy and reassured Lily that Gibson would live. She made the mistake of consulting the Dr. Google and websites gravely assured her that a child Gibson's age with vomiting should be taken to the ER. Well. Maybe not. He is a big, sturdy, juicy child and wasn't running a fever and didn't have diarrhea and although he certainly wasn't his usual happy self, he was fine enough. But she took him to the doctor anyway, her own pediatrician, and I understand that perfectly. She needed to put her mind at ease and it was put at ease, mostly because as soon as they got to the doctor's office, Gibson perked up and appeared to be normal. I told her this is always the way it goes. The little boy has the virus his daddy has had and although I hope with all my heart that it only affects the two of them, I would not be surprised if it didn't strike some more of us.

Ah. The rain has definitely calmed down but now the wind is blowing again- it has been blowing all day, great gusts of it, pruning the dead branches from my trees- and I can feel the colder air coming in already. I love weather, the way it can change like that. Like a snap of the fingers. Like the quick fast wink of a boy with his arm around another woman across a bar. Well, as I recall. Back when I looked at boys across a bar.

After Lily and Jason took Gibson to the doctor they went to Publix where a car left in drive rolled back and smacked into their car, trapping them in the space where they were. They had to wait until the owner came out for the car to be moved, for things to be settled. It has not been her day or Jason's either.

But while all of that was going on, Owen and I played and hung out and walked to the post office and ate snacks and we had several celebrations, which seems to be a new word of Owen's. One for the chickens when he threw them a bowl of peanuts and one for the goats when we fed them leaves.
Celebrations require food, of course.
Before Owen fed the peanuts to the chickens he sat on the back steps and cracked and ate a good many of them himself. He did not like the red papery covering so I showed him how to squeeze the nuts which releases them from it. And now he knows. It was a good day for us, the boy and me. Nothing at all special or out of the ordinary but he learned about peanuts, we discussed the fact that not only baby cows are called calves but also baby elephants and baby whales. We walked home from the post office on the railroad tracks and he brought home a rock. A big deal for a small boy. And he helped me make a bed and he stood on the step-ladder and handed me the clothes from the dryer. He is a good helper, that one. When he feels like it, at least.

When I took him home, I made up short songs about subjects of his choosing. Goats, chickens, cows, horses, trees, the road. I remember doing this with my own kids. I wonder if they remember. I delivered him to an exhausted mama and daddy and I felt guilty that I didn't keep him for the night but I knew this storm was coming and Mr. Moon is going to a basketball game tonight and I had no heart to be here alone with a three-year-old and no power and I can't believe we still have power at this point and I have the dorky headlight in my pocket for the moment it goes out.

My god. I bet the temperature has dropped ten degrees since I started writing this.

After I dropped off Owen I went and picked up my husband who needed a ride to the car-rental place where his car was because he always takes a rental car down to auction. All-in-all, I was in the car for an hour and a half or so but it was fine. I'm listening to a good book on CD and the rain held off until I got here and got the chickens shut up and the cat fed and I am inside and cozy and all is well. And there are leftovers from last night and I think I might make a bed of salad and put them all on top and eat that. It sounds wonderful to me. I just want to sleep tonight and sleep hard.

I'm tired. We're all tired. The whole world is tired at night. We are tired from worry and from care and from physical labor and from mental tasks and from the small, tiny things and the huge, seemingly insurmountable ones too. Sometimes I think the simple act of hanging on as our planet hurtles through space exhausts us, the very pull of gravity taking its toll every day. Sleep is one of the things I am most grateful for in this life.

Let's all get some good rest, okay?

Because tomorrow will hold whatever it holds and we will need to be rested for it.

Amen.