Notes From the Bedside Table

Sunrise: 5:15, sunset: 9:00. I sure hope we have a little sunshine before Solstice. Farmers are happy because the grasshopper infestation they were expecting this year won't be happening. The eggs are dying off because of the rain. Is that a Yay moment?

I was pretty surprised when Dennis' alarm went off at his version of 5 am (mine goes off a few minutes later at my idea of 5 am) and he bounded out of bed with "Are we walking today?" on his lips, a spring in his step, and a feeling of expectation following him out of the room. I said, "Yep- I'll be up in a minute" and turned over, feeling with my feet for any available warm spot.

The cat was thrilled, she knows that I will feed her soon after my alarm is turned off. She stopped walking around my head and got off my pillow and away from my hair. The floor thudded when she hit it; the girl is built like her mom. I could hear it was raining, I could feel how cold it was, I was perplexed- D. doesn't like to be out in the rain if he doesn't have to be and it sounded wet.

He was dressed (shoes at his feet) and on the computer reading by the time I pulled on my sweats and another sweatshirt and my WARM socks.

I think we need to move our coffee maker upstairs.

A few minutes later, 5:30 (we had to wait to hear the bottom of the hour funny piece on NPR), we hit the porch and Dennis stopped short, "Damn," he said, "I didn't expect this. It's raining." Hmm.

Well. We walked anyway. For people who have almost always lived in the Pacific Northwest (myself, I have only ever lived in the great PNW), we just aren't as likely to head out into the rain anymore. I guess if we are going to really dedicate ourselves to trying to get into some sort of shape more appropriate to healthy humans, we are going to have to go out in the rain.

I used to love running in the rain.

I could see myself in one of those Nike ads, the ones with a long, lonely road rising in the distance and curving away out of sight, nothing but trees and ditches on either side, a light rain - more of a heavy mist - falling, coating skin and hair with glistening droplets; hair in a braid, bouncing from one shoulder to the other like a metronome. No sound but my breath, my footsteps, my heart. No matter the weather or landscape, in my head it was always Nikeland.

I still like being in the rain. Focus becomes more intense, you pay attention to where you are and what you are doing, especially with all the snails that have come onto the sidewalks lately. There is nothing worse than hearing, no, more of a feeling that you heard, that crackly pop under foot and knowing what it was. (Insert creepy shiver here.)

Anyhoo, we went out into the world and walked in the rain and went up and down all our hills and then came home. I took Dennis to his doctor's appointment, his six month knee surgery app't, and the docs are just thrilled with his progress. So cool to see the x-rays before and after- when D. went to surgery, he had very bowed legs, and like the sailor he was, he walked lurching from side to side. Now, he has straight legs and is about an inch taller.

And now I have a few minutes before work to read more of Helene Tursten's Detective Inspector Hess, a mystery novel that takes place in Sweden. It's cold there, too.