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 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| March 23rd PROMPT: What is the best way to spend a rainy afternoon? My first instinctive response would be to stay home and hunker down with a good book or two. Ignore the rain. You cannot prevent it anyway. Why would you want to be soaking wet? Stay dry and comfortable reclined on a couch, or that special piece of furniture, the recliner. Lose yourself in a developing plot line. Search for the bad guy / woman. Curse their nefarious actions. Scale soaring mountains, or race through crowded city streets. Applaud the heroic efforts of the good guy / woman. Savour the described scenery. Puzzle over cryptic clues. Bake something, anything. May I recommend cookies. They are a bit more labour-intensive and the reward is in indulging. Tea pairs well with them. I suppose my ideal rainy day could be described as nesting. Stay put and practise domesticity. I have not always followed my own advice. One time, hubby and moi, son and daughter-in-law, youngest daughter, plus two grand giggles visited a zoo during a summer rainstorm. Let me emphasize the rainfall. We did not experience a sprinkle, but a down pour. Some may have been inclined to say a deluge, or a monsoon. At any rate, we were soaked and squishy. Our flip-flops squeaked. My son admonished his daughters to stay out of the puddles. This proved impossible. Puddles lurked everywhere. Walking created splashes. Water dripped down our faces. Our clothing clung to us. We were beyond damp. We chose not to hurry our tour. We meandered. We oohed and awed. Surprisingly, we did not battle crowds as we strolled and stared. The zoo inhabitants seemed to revel in the rain. Birds spread their feathers as if showering, all while squawking, whistling, trilling, and singing. Lemurs swung through branches playing tag. Hippos wallowed in the mud. Big cats rolled in the fresh mud. Deer and bison stomped and stretched. Perhaps they enjoyed the water and viewed it as a respite from the humidity. Have I mentioned the sounds of rain? It plips, plops, drips, splorks, drums, pit-a-pats, plunks, , splats, and more. It's sad to say, but I believe I'm past my puddle-stomping days. Those glory days when the whole idea was to test the depth of a puddle with your boots no longer exist. No more squelching muck for me. |
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