Rain, rain go away.
Rain, rain go away.
Come again another day.
It’s raining; it’s pouring.
The old man is snoring.
He went to bed and bumped his head,
And he wouldn’t get up in the morning.
I was reminded of these weather-related nursery rhymes as I listened to the rain pitter-patter on the roof of the office Saturday. That pitter-patter picked up to a pounding later in the day, which was less enjoyable when I was caught outside in it, but we can’t have everything we want. Especially from weather.
But I’m getting distracted. I was reminded of the nursery rhymes as I enjoyed the sound of the rain and a tasty pumpkin latte. I found myself thinking about the times I would sing these rhymes in my head as a child. The occurrence often coincided with me bemoaning the fact that I couldn’t go outside because it was wet and muddy.
I have one memory in particular that stands out, though I’m not sure if it’s actually a single memory or a combination of several. In my parents hall there is a picture of me in one of my "get-ups," as my mom would put it. I’m wearing a tank top, shorts, cowboy boots and a gun belt with my plastic six-shooter and a jump rope as my lasso. Also, of course, there’s a hat.
In my mind, I see myself wearing this outfit begging my mom to go out and play. "It’s only raining a little." (It’s actually pouring.)
My perception on rain has changed a bit these days since the outdoors don’t draw me in the same way. As an adult, I look forward to this time of year, when the days are chilly and filled with slow rain.
I’ve actually come up with my own personal name for the weather: tea time. I am a morning coffee drinker, but if I have caffeine too late in the day it will make me jittery and keep me awake. However, when the weather starts to turn and it really starts to feel like fall, there’s nothing like hot tea on a chilly afternoon. Don’t ask me how I’ve formed this tradition. It’s just something that’s happened over time.
By the way, today’s tea is India spice chai.
Soon it will be sweater weather, another one of my own custom seasons. As the name implies, that’s when I’ve decided it’s cool enough to wear a sweater. It’s a very short season in Texas.
Happy birthday Monday to Duane Peters of Tom Bean; Gloria Thompson, Wilma Smith, Montrel Hughes and Susan Maynard, all of Sherman; Curtis Corbray Jones, Chris Riddle, Zadazian Haywood and twins, Se’mon and Quinten Stewart, all of Denison; Sharon Killough of Paris; Riverson Roubinek of Richardson; Alexis Giles of Little Elm; Mary Alice Vowter of Sherman; Wilma Smith of Sherman; Philip Lyons of Sherman; and Shirley Morris.