Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

The neurologist told me several weeks ago that I can participate in any activity, that I will only be limited by the amount of pain I can tolerate. She indicated I will live with pain for the rest of my life. This morning I found out one activity that aggravates the herniated disc, bringing back a level of pain I was hoping wouldn't rear its ugly head. We've had a lot of rain over the last few weeks. One day recently I had a river running through my side yard because the drain next to the street simply couldn't handle the amount of rain falling. I figured that particular day I would be in the basement, wet vaccing water. I've not had water in the basement for several years now, ever since adjusting the gutters and down spouts. I knew, though, that the amount of rain that day was going to be enough to send some water into my basement. There was some, but not all that much, and Angel Baby vacced it up for me. Last evening it started raining and it rained all night then al...

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 outs...