The Hurricane and the Low Pressure Front

As the rains have returned, so must I.

I return not to complain about my pruning fingers, my perpetually damp socks and my failing boots with the hole in the sole. I’m not going to write about damp leaves and slippery rocks keeping me from hiking this past weekend. Nor will I gripe about the hay, wet with disappointment, unsuitable to ride in through saturated pumpkin patches and drowning corn mazes. I will not curse the rain, damn the rain or even shout profanity toward the sky, even if I feel provoked. I will dutifully raise my umbrella and go about my day without uttering a “nasty weather we are having” in an elevator with a stranger. No I will not do any of these things.

I merely want to share with you a great big hello.

HELLO

Sticking it to the Man, One knee Sock at a Time

I wore knee socks to work, grey woolen knee socks. I didn’t wear hose. I didn’t put on stockings. I even left the tights at home. Woolen, grey knee socks cover my shins and wedge shoes my feet.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I insist on drawing attention (incurring wrath) from the sub-committee on appropriate work attire?

I look forward to my concise, properly harsh, email regarding the dress code.

Monkeys and Elephants

I’m off to a 4 hour training.

If only I had been previously trained not to look bored during a 4 hour training.

I’m doomed: didn't get enough sleep on a school night doomed.

OH FOR THE LOVE OF RAIN...

I'm molding.

The Falling Water

Fall is here!

It brings with it the great rains. As I stare out a 40th floor window in Mid-Town New York I have to ask, where is the Ark? Water falls in buckets like the sky has been ripped open freeing its water collection. The sky has quite a collection.

Fall is my favorite season. It has been hard to truly enjoy the seasonable weather, the air’s new scent, apples, apples, pumpkins and leaves changing color. My Mother describes fall as the time when the trees dress up in their best formal wear in attempt to impress. I like that.