Rainy August Day

Rain this morning. I can hear it as I awaken. Still early. Maybe around 5:30 am. I roll over, feel Teddie curled up near my knees, and go back to sleep. A crack of thunder wakes me a bit later. Still raining. Harder. I turn towards the windows, the lace curtains gently swaying with the breeze. I never tire of the wonder that I get to wake up here, in this little house.

Murphy and Teddie stand at the foot of the bed, watching as I finally give in and leave the warmth of the sheets, the comfort of the pillows. I walk them to the kitchen door and push the screen open. Teddie takes a step forward then stops. The gutter spews water where it shouldn't, a waterfall through a crack in the elbow, down onto the back steps. Teddie retreats into the kitchen. Murphy follows his lead. Both dogs look at me with the expression akin to "Nope. Not goin' out there," then make their way to the living room rug and lie down. I worry Teddie might pee on the floor since he didn't go outside. I try to entice him to venture out, but he doesn't budge.

I watch the rain through the dining room windows. The wavy glass gives curves and swirls to the green leaves of the forsythia bush. I can see the runoff waters disturbing the mulch in the unplanted flower garden beyond the air conditioner. Soon, that water will be in the basement. 

And I will have to mop, most likely have to get the shop vac out. I will spend the rest of the morning battling water seeping past the cement blocks of the foundation. I want to complain, but I'm grateful for the rain. Full rain barrels. Flowers watered. Grass green even in these long days of summer. 

Not exactly what I'd planned for my Saturday. I've learned, though, not to plan. Not to have expectations. Just take life as it happens.