Rainy Days and Tuesdays

October 13, 2009


I awoke today to the sweet sound of raindrops. The wind chimes were at full throttle, and Sparkey refused to go out because he HATES to get his feet wet. He insisted on coming with me when I left the house this morning for my usual latte. I caved and let him go with me and he was thinking "dog park". I even TOOK him to the parking lot of said dog park and he jumped out so excited to be there, only realizing it was pelting rain and wind. What little tail he has quickly dropped between his legs! He was a sport, and did pee, but was glad to see home and his dry bed atop the Tempurpetic! My dog is a whore! He lives to be petted, walked and fed with a healthy dose of cookies at proper intervals.



I LOVE the rain; especially the first rain. California has been ravaged by work furlows, property foreclosures, failed businesses, wildfires and drought. This rain feels like it's a start to quelling the disappointment of the past two years. The media kept predicting this storm. My reply to all who would forecast the coming relief of rain was simple: The prediction of rain is coming from the same people who say the economy is turning around. Frankly, I'm of the belief that the more the local news media hypes up a storm, the less chance we have of actually seeing precipitation. Needless to say, today's wake-up call of traffic jams and water on the road was a delightful welcome. Let the rain begin!!



My first order of business after Sparkey's pee and my morning latte was a pot of chicken stock on the stove. There's something about having the windows steam up from simmering soup on a rainy day that is total bliss for me. I have this intense need to feed the world from my stock pot. Okay, not "the" world, but MY world. There's this innate part of me that believes I'm healing someone when I make soup. I cannot make soup like regular people--you know, just enough for 4 to 6 people. I always start out saying to myself , "not this time. I'm not going to make enough for a starving country--just enough for tonight's dinner". After all, I'm always pushing the envelope serving Dave soup for dinner. It's not his favorite thing. He rarely complains about anything he's fed from my table, but I know that soup isn't his thing. For instance, he won't go to a restaurant and order a cup of soup.



I think the thing I like the most about soup is that it cleans out the vegetable drawer and the fridge while quenching that need for comfort food. It's simple. It's like recycling, reusing Sunday dinner for another meal. It's aroma therapy for the house and comfort for the cold body on a rainy day. I know Dave won't complain tonight when I feed him soup, mostly because after 12 hours in the pelting rain, you need something to warm up your body. Make no mistake however, he's not going to be asking lefty over soup tomorrow--even if it snows!