it is quiet, and i can hear the rain bouncing off the beech tree, the roof, the sidewalk.
i can hear myself think.
but i would rather listen to the rain.
rain hurts less.
got a phone call yesterday from somebody i haven’t heard from in quite some time.
she called about something i posted on the effbooks; wanted to make sure i wasn’t giving away the super important thing she thought i was giving away.
thanks for calling to check on the super important people that live in my house.
the rain washes.
and the rain makes mud.
six of one, half dozen of the other.
i prefer the cleansing.
got a letter yesterday from somebody i haven’t heard from in quite some time.
a real, actual postal service letter in an envelope with a stamp.
it was chock full to the brim, and then some.
rain is good.