It was a wet day. The kind of day that gives Seattle its reputation. Water everywhere. The kind of day best enjoyed by staying in bed rather than vernturing outside. I’ve got webbed feet but not flippers.
Speaking of feet, I let Abigail go to dance class while wearing only Mary Janes and no socks – bad mistake. I should have made her wear big rubber boots and thick socks instead. Especially when I see how much the girls enjoy jumping in puddles. We came home and huddled under a blanket to read books but they were still cold. So then the girls got a warm bath and their thickest clothes to wear.
On the radio I heard flood warnings. If you encounter a road covered with water, find an alternate route. Tonight the rain is hitting the windows and running down the roof. To me it’s the sound of safety.
It was the kind of day when I wanted to cook. Five spice powder, soy sauce, potatoes and pork simmered on the stove. You can still smell it upstairs. We had it with fresh rice and stir-fried spinach, oranges and snickerdoodles soft and hot from the oven. I didn’t even mind cleaning up the kitchen.
Now the lights are blinking and I’m thinking I should go to bed. I can’t wait. I like to go to sleep in the rain.
