Sunday, April 6, 2008

Cloud Cover.

AMR reported an early-morning rain and wind event here in 27408, and the rain gauge says she's right: another eight-tenths-plus overnight and this morning, taking us to three inches total for April. When it rains, it rains.

I recovered from my slip-and-fall WeatherDeck injuries just in time to do something impressively painful to my right leg playing racquetball today. Pulled a groin. Snapped a hammy. Broke my hip. Something. There's a good knot in there just underneath the surface. I remember being nine years old pretty well. We used to take the bikes out and go ramping. Ramp the bikes. Ramp is a good verb. Put a board up on another board or a log or some bricks or something and jump the bike as high up into the air as you can. At top speed. Ramping. Every now and then one of us would lock up the chain, hit the ground with a bike that had wheels that wouldn't turn, go spilling out across the pavement and into somebody's lawn. Roll two or three times over. If I did that now it would kill me dead. It's like I woke up a week or two ago and it turned out I wasn't nine any more. My body keeps finding new ways to break itself. Or I find new ways to break it. I don't think they meant anything having to do with not feeling up Susan Halbach in the stairwell when they said our bodies were temples. I think they meant, You better enjoy ramping now, because later on, when you do something simple like take one step to your left on a racquetball court, you will fracture your leg in six places.

Something's wrong with the way time is working in that example. I wasn't feeling anybody up when I was nine. Let's just chalk it all up to the pain and move along, shall we?

It is low and gray and gray and gray and gray out there. Little bit chilly. The forsythia along the back fence is so yellow it's like somebody plugged it in. We may, perhaps, see the sun tomorrow. It may be warmer. But we're working on something like eight days in a row where they've had it dead wrong, so: Maybe lay out more than one outfit before you go to sleep tonight.


Kathryn Frances Walker said...

um, hey rainmaker, could you please make it stop or at least warm up? i want it to come in the form of rainstorms. my brain and soul are soggy.

Drew Perry said...

i blame myself. i too am sogged.