“Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain”

I was thinking about the beautiful sunny day we had, yesterday and wanting to write. Truly lovely, little wind, maximum sun. I'd been out walking the lot and playing with the dogs; mostly, watching the red wolf mix walking and digging for moles.

This creature LOVES fresh meat, unfortunately, and if no other game is afforded, is not averse to snatching it out of the air. But NOT this day - the birds were on to him. They were staying high and away from Tiger. Nugget, as usual, wasn't interested much; he wants only to lie in the sunshine and beg for belly rubs and piddy-pulls (piddy = paw) or tug on the back of my shirt to get me to come with him on some doggy quest for god-knows-what, and smiling his doggy smile....

I have mostly mockingbirds and ravens - black crows - hanging with me this week of high winds and night storms, and the mockingbirds are looking for love at the top of their lungs.I started whistling at one for fun, and had just succeeded at getting him to whistle back when Tiger startled me by also trying to answer - woofing very softly in the same key and cadence as the whistle.

OK - this was freaking me out ... but I did it again. And so did he - I've always suspected this furry idiot was an alien in disguise ....

The third time Tiger tried to answer, even the birds were paying attention. Just about then, the wind picked up again - I could scent rain in the air, and hear distant thunder in the west, so soft - more pressure than sound, really - and growing slowly stronger, deeper, more insistent. The Furry idiots are afraid of storm-fury, but I'm not. I love rain storms - the energy, the noise, the firmament's cathartic cleansing of the air, earth and soul. The storm sings to those who stop to hear it, and that song is energy, light, fury, trembling.

And it came, blustering, thundering, and roaring: and I danced in the rain - just to feel it all, be a part of it all, move with the music - like I once did as a child. And I felt joy, life, catharsis, renewal.

Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music. F. Nietzsche

I

Rain, Rain - go away ...

I started this one on my other site (linked above). I can't leave this alone though - it's a laugh a minute around here some days (she said sarcastically). I have nothing better to do, I guess. Had a job interview this am, have fed and cuddled the furry idiots, am doing the laundry, and getting into the neighbors' business.

There's one rental property in the neighborhood, and the woman living there is - shall we say, living an elaborate life? Tee-hee. The unfortunate thing is, she has the only home on this hill that is built facing UPHILL. And it's been raining frogs, cats, and dogs for a couple of days now. I'm ashamed to say that we neighbors didn't catch on to the obvious as soon as we should have.

We all just realized her house is flooding - the basement is filling up. We just checked in with her, and she stated she was OK - friends 1, 2, and 3 have come to the rescue. One's pumping the basement, one's drying off the contents of the house, and one's working to get the car with the bad starter going so she can get away to someplace dry and warm (furnace is in the basement, of course).

She's been having a bad time ever since the ice storm of 2007. The property owner used to live in the house, but migrated to the Mega-Church Exurbs on the flood plains on the other side of town, like a lot of folks did back in the late 80s and 90s. The lots over there are flat, smaller, lack the old-growth elm and oak trees we have, and don't have rocks 10 inches beneath the soil, like what we deal with over here.

In any case, mister man usually takes good care of the property for whomever he rents to, but the ice storm was a once-in-a-lifetime (we hope) disaster. A tree fell on her house, the electrical wires broke, then the sewer and gas mains cracked wide open. The house is split level and supported, in part, by log pillars on the back of the home (BOY DO I HAVE A STORY ABOUT THAT, some other time!) which actually cracked. Mister man's been working on the house ever since, but it's been slow going. No one's insurance covered what happened here. But, he's come to the rescue also - just got here. Hooray.

We actually leave each other alone in the neighborhood, unless there's a change in someone's routine. For all the attention we don't pay to one another, it's obvious rather quickly if something's changed. Oddly enough, everyone's animals let us know if something's wrong. Collectively, there's quite a menagerie: dogs, cats, peacocks, ducks, mongooses, horses - even snakes (EEEK). You name it, it's likely it will be found up here.

Some of us have been up here in some capacity or another for 40 years or more, so ... we live separate lives in each other's hip pockets :).