A Typical Day in the Life

“Woke up, fell out of bed,
Dragged a comb across my face.
Found my way downstairs and had a smoke,
And looking up, I noticed I was late.”
A Day in the Life, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

And that pretty much sums up my mornings, except for the fact that I’m on the ground floor, I don’t smoke, and since I’m retired, I’m rarely late going anywhere.

Of course, if you count “posting to my blogs” as something I can be late to do, then I’m often guilty of “I noticed I was late.”

So what about this morning? Up at 8:30, fixed myself some breakfast, had a cup of coffee, and read for a couple of hours. Finished David and Leigh Eddings’ “The Diamond Throne” and started on its sequel, “The Ruby Knight.”

Both of which (as well as the third book in the series, “The Sapphire Rose”) at least a half-dozen times. If you enjoy Tolkien, I have no doubt you’ll enjoy the Eddings’ books. Yes, they really are that good.

Thunderstorms forecast for today, along with rains showers. About par for the course this time of year in Rochester. And in Rochester, a good day this time of year is one “when it isn’t raining up,” as the late Mr. Eddings once said. Actually, Seattle and Rochester get about the same amount of rainfall: it’s just that Seattle’s is almost a constant, mist-like occurrence, whereas when it rains in Rochester, it RAINS!

Neither of which can hold a candle to Southeast Alaska’s 160 inches a year….

After living in Juneau for a few years, I had to travel to Seattle on business. When I got off the airport bus in downtown, I couldn’t understand why so many people were carrying opened umbrellas. I walked for a couple of blocks before it dawned on me: “Oh, right…this is what passes for rain in Seattle!”

A serious rain in Rochester, on the other hand, means the raindrops splash an inch high on the ground when they land, windshield wipers can barely keep your windshield clean even on their highest setting, and the National Weather Service issues flash flood warnings. We used to call such rains in Texas “gully-washers,” and when one hit while I was on my motorcycle, I generally holed up under an overpass for the 5 minutes or so it took the storm to rain itself out.

Funny, I hadn’t thought of that in years. It’s interesting how writing brings back memories, in much the same way that a song or a smell can instantly transport me 40 years back in time.

When The Rain Comes

If the rain comes they run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes, if the rain comes
Rain, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

But in my case, when the rains comes I run and set the teakettle on to boil, brew a nice cuppa, and settle down in my corner chair with a good book. And contrary to what Karen Carpenter had to sing, rainy days and Sundays never bring me down.

One of the advantages of my age is that I have a vast repertoire of old songs I can draw upon for inspiration when I need it. Part of it is having a good memory, and part of it is my ADD. Part of it may even be genetic: I remember when I was growing up, no matter what smart remark I made, my mother always had a song that suited it. We used to be annoyed by her singing, but right now I’d gladly trade a year of my life for the chance to hear her once more.

And since I’m starting to feel maudlin, this is as good a time as any to post this entry and log off.

See you around the campus.

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