Bring on the Rain

July.


I mean, really, its July already? I just mean, wow, we've made it to July.  In January we packed up a house and in February we drove across the country.  In March, we started to settle into a groove; in April we started to explore; May we started working; June we started saving and planning, and now its July. 

That's unbelieveable.


Right now, it is 100 degrees where we use to live.  As I type, rain falls for the third day in a row outside.  It is no where near the Summer that I have experienced for four years.  This time last year, we were jumping in the Atlantic, dining on cannolis and soft shell crab, and generally wondering what was going to happen.  It was hot day and night, and it was so quintessential Summer.  Brightly colored umbrellas on the beach, salt water taffy, walking the boardwalk with sand caked sandals as teenagers on bikes rode by, Guidos with funnel cakes and corn dogs, the same top 40 song playing over and over, and the ocean horizon in the background.  We are certainly in a different reality right now. 


But, do not misunderstand me.  I am not complaining.  That experience will always be with us and there will be plenty of opportunities to have that back again.  Someday we will find our own version of Ocean City on the West Coast, and although I can guarantee it won't come with a B&B two inches from the boardwalk, it will have its own characteristics. 

In fact, not only am I not complaining, I have said outloud that I do not care if it rains all Summer.

Because it doesn't matter if it does.  We will work around it. 

It started raining on Friday, as I had just arranged chairs around the perfectly prepared fire.  Instead of moving the party inside, we improvised.

And as it turned out, chairs moved under a maple leaf canopy made things even better. 


It is still somewhat of an out of body experience being here.  Most of our belongings are sitting in a Pod in Pennsylvania, and I can only pray the warehouse is properly air conditioned.  We dream about how we will make our mark in this new land, but know that we have to pace ourself.  We are eager to branch out immediately, to have a place to call our own.  Its tempting to jump right in, but this economy and the uncertainties that come with life are slowing us down a bit.  Someday we will pat our old, younger selves on the back for this kind of responsiblity, but right now it can be frustrating. 

Still, we improvise again.  Clean off a couple of shelves in the makeshift room we've habitated.  Make that small space our own.  Or spend a Sunday afternoon tucked inside the room, with one dog who agreed to join us.  Rainy days make it easier to get away with this kind of behavior. 

It may not look like we expected it to in July, inside or out.  Gosh, it went by so fast.  We probably never expected it to look like this for us now when we sat in white rocking chairs, drinking god-awful Bud Light with lime, last July.  The idealistic bride in me probably figured we would have a new couch, wedding linens adoring our bed and the guest room, dinner on our new plates, and wine poured in our stemware.  We would go to concerts and travel, come home each night and talk about our day, and pop in the latest television show that we were catching up on.  We'd have dinner parties with themes, get to buy nice clothes when we wanted to, and have the careers we always dreamed of .  And for sure, we would be spending this weekend at the beach, with that elderly couple who makes a reservation a year in advanced for the ocean view room with the balcony.  For sure. 

This though, this is better. 

It makes us appreciate all of those little things more.  Like a Sunday afternoon nap, or how great it feels to wear a sweatshirt at night this time of the year.  We don't have the ocean in front of us, or sand between our toes, but seagulls are a daily sighting and I much prefer skipping rocks into the Puget Sound. 

And bigger than that, it will make us grateful when we can make a home and spend an entire weekend doing nothing.  I will love my stemware even more that I will drink orange juice in them. 


It does rain a lot here.  But here's the kicker:  we know why that's an important thing.  It makes the earth greener, it hushes the world around you and forces you to take your talents inside (or under the trees).

And above all, it makes you remember the sunny days even more.