Monthly Archives: June 2012

Baby, The Rain Must Fall

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As it turns out, for me, the rain has to fall on the first Monday of summer vacation.

Thanks, Mother Nature.

Have I mentioned that I live in California? We don’t cotton much to the idea of rain in June in these parts. We find it highly disruptive of our blue sky, sunny and warm-every-day summer plans.

I mean, really! How are we supposed to go to the pool?

This morning, the title of this post popped into my head about the time I actually realized that it was raining.

As an aside, this is another thing we do in California. We completely ignore the weather report that suggests it will rain, instead focusing on the picture of the sunny tomorrow we have in our head. This makes California a very interesting place to live, as we spend much of our time in shock and disbelief of the reality that is hitting us in the face. As in “It is raining! Can you believe it is raining? I just cannot believe that it is raining in June! On the first Monday of summer vacation! Can you BELIEVE it? Wow. Rain. In June. Unbelievable!”

Anyway, back to the title. This comes from a poem, right? One of those things from my English Major-y past bubbles up from the recesses of my brain. Longfellow?

No, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was just not the “baby” type.

Steve McQueen movie? Ah, that’s it. He was much more the “baby” type.

 

 

 

But don’t call him no damn good –not in front of her!

And why is Lee Remick hanging on to that post? Is it because someone is calling Steve McQueen no damn good behind her? Who knows?

By the way, this is how my brain works. There is all kinds of stuff floating around in there, some of it pretty cool, a lot of it kind of useless. And there is no organization in there whatsoever. Well, actually, there is organization, but it is so cattywampus that it makes sense only to me.

For example, Steve McQueen and Longfellow are in the same file.

It is labeled “Rain.”

Go figure.

Anyway, I know there is still a Longfellow connection (just minus the baby).

Here it is:

THE RAINY DAY

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

That Longfellow was a pretty perceptive fellow.

I have several friends and family members who are going through days that are dark and dreary, with those rain clouds pouring down right on their heads. It is without rhyme or reason, with no regard for whether it is the first day of their summer vacation or not. And just to be clear, I am not talking about rain. It sucks.

Puts my rainy Monday summer day into perspective.

Thanks for making me grateful for a little rain, Longfellow and Steve McQueen!

And, really, can you believe that it rained today?

Sally

What Have You Been Up To?

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You might think, based upon the title, that this blog entry is going to be an explanation of what I have been doing in the period of my 6-month plus radio silence.

You are wrong.

Instead, I am going to talk about two of my least favorite words in the English language.

Up to.

These two innocent words can be so sneaky when used together.

Up to.

You see, I like to shop.

No…I LOVE to shop.

My husband does not understand this at all.

To him shopping is not a pastime.  It is a necessary evil.  Like pumping gas or standing in line at the post office.

He just does not understand.

He does not understand the thrill of the hunt.  He does not understand the heart-pumping excitement of finding an item that one has been stalking for months on the (be still my heart!) CLEARANCE RACK!  Marked down!  And with a big sign that really gets one’s blood up – 50% OFF!   Fifty percent!  50%!   5-0! OFF!   One of the BEST  phrases in the English language!  Why, they will have to practically pay us to take the object of our hunt!  WE CANNOT LET THIS GET AWAY!

My husband just does not understand how this experience feeds some primitive need — serves some primal instinct.

Like the lioness on the African savannah, we circle our prey, slowly, stealthily, careful to not alert any of the surrounding predators of our target.

And then …. we pounce. We have it!

We have captured our elusive prey!  We have winnowed out the weak member of the herd!  The one that is 50% off!

We proudly carry our catch up to the cashier (well, not in our mouths like a lioness, but still with the same air of satisfaction in having achieved our ultimate, inborn, carnal purpose).

And then … up to.

Not 50% off.

UP TO 50% off.

We have been outflanked.

Our prey is not the weak, 50% off link we had thought.  Our prey is a decoy.   It is only 25% off.  The prey gets away (because there is no way we will make a purchase at less than 50% off), like a gazelle bounding away across the plain, free to be stalked again on another day.   And the lioness prowls home to her den, empty-handed,  muttering “Up to! Grrrrrr.”

This is why I hate the phrase “Up to.”

And still, due to my long absence you might be compelled to ask, “What have you been up to?”

Isn’t it obvious?

I have been at the mall.

Sally