Wet Friday

The sound of wind and rain playing against the house has been a constant for the last hours, beginning yesterday morning and, now, continuing through today. Yesterday, I picked Cindy up at work and the weather had placed her in the mood to eat chicken pot pie (comfort food) and cuddle on the couch in front of the television.

Of course, paramount in her plan was the need to be on the couch in front of the television. She was not really hungry, nor was I. So I drove her home and waited on the couch with Cindy and the dog for the time when she would be hungry enough to send me on to Kentucky Fried Chicken for the pies. In the rain.

This morning arose wet and dreary and cold. I slept later than normal. My body feeling the weather. Taking on the heaviness, as if the moist air were filling my pores with the moisture. I dragged my body into the bathroom and on into the shower. I dressed, wearing my red sweater to battle the gloom. General James Longstreet, general under Robert E. Lee, always wore a red shirt into battle. I don't feel like I'm in battle so much, but like the color red and it does cast a festive glow to my clothes.

Tex did not want to go outside. He barked a good bit during the night when the weather woke him up. Judging from the floor in the mudroom, the weather must have scared the sh-- out of him. So in order to take him out (for what you might ask) I had to clean up the mess he had already created. When I got him out front on his leash, I walked out into the drizzle and he looked up at me as if he needed direction on where he should go. I tried verbal encouragement, which only went so far.

Tex does not appreciate wet ground. Not a 'mudder.' He stepped gingerly over to the grass next to the house, looked back at me, then stepped lightly onto the grass. He tried to avoid the rain which had collected in the low spots on the grass. He really tried to hover above the wet grass, an impossible task for one of his girth.

As the rain decorated my head, Tex walked around in slow circles, trying to find the one dry spot upon which he might relieve himself. Back and forth, round and round. It was clear to me, if not to him that he was defeated by the weather. Finally, as the rain began to soak my sweater, I yanked on the leash and took him back inside. Perhaps the gate between the kitchen and the living room will keep him from decorating kitchen floor in his inimitable manner.

At any rate, here I am, waiting for more documentation for my closing this afternoon. Waiting for a second closing at 11:00. Waiting for a new client to arrive. Drying out, a bit. The old building is creaking and breathing with the rain and the wind. I hope this will be a good day. The rain is supposed to continue.