Wednesday 25 September 2013

Lemonade Rain


This time last year it must have been raining as much as it has been this spring. I put myself in kids' shoes, watching the incessant raindrops on the window and wondered what it must feel like to be stuck inside, unhappily, for hours, when all you want to do is go out and put your feet in rubbery gumboots and go out and splash around in puddles. Now that my awesome friends, Jo & Jo, have created this amazing rainwear as part of their Mum2Mum Rain-Wear range, kids can!
 

Meanwhile, I wrote this, thinking of my wee great nephew Finn (“Cool name, Mum”, said my kids. Yes, yes it is.) as the central character.



Lemonade Rain

Finn pressed his nose against the window and watched the raindrops slide down the glass.
“It's been raining all day. Rain, rain, rain. I’m so sick of the rain,” said Finn, putting on his pajamas.
 “If only it rained something exciting, instead of boring old water-rain. Like….jelly! I wish it rained jelly! Green jelly and red jelly, in nice big blobs I could eat! Then I wouldn’t mind the rain so much,” said Finn, climbing into bed.

 On Monday morning, Finn woke up to hear the pitter patter, blob, glob of rain on the roof.
“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s raining again.”
Running down the windowpane were slimy streaks of colour, like rainbow snail trails.
Outside, Finn saw big blobby puddles of red and green, heaped up like pudding in a bowl.
 “Jelly! It’s raining jelly!”
Finn raced outside to taste the rain.

He opened his mouth and gobbled the blobs.
He cupped his hands and licked his fingers.
Finn stomped around in his boots. Squelch, slurp, schlop!

But instead of running down the drain like water-rain, the jelly rain piled up in big blobby mounds.
The jelly got higher and higher, and sucked in tight around Finn’s boots.

“Oh no, I’m stuck!” said Finn. “Maybe jelly rain isn’t such a good idea, after all.”

 That night, Finn pressed his nose against the window and watched the jelly raindrops slide down the glass.
“It's been raining jelly all day. I’m so sick of the jelly rain,” said Finn, putting on his pajamas.
“If only it rained something less blobby. Like….lemonade! I wish it rained lemonade! Sweet, delicious lemonade! Then I wouldn’t mind the rain so much,” said Finn, climbing into bed.

 
On Tuesday morning, Finn woke up to hear the pitter patter, clitter clatter of rain on the roof.
“Oh, no,” he said. “It's raining again.”
Running down the windowpane were clear, bubbly drips.
Outside, Finn saw fizzy little bubbles in the puddles.
“Lemonade! It’s raining lemonade!”
Finn raced outside to taste the rain.
 
He opened his mouth and drank the raindrops.
He cupped his hands and licked his fingers.
Finn stomped around in his boots.
But Finn wasn’t the only one who liked sweet, sticky lemonade.
 “Ants!  There are ants all over my lemonade!”
They climbed all over the path and up Finn’s boots!
“Eek!” shrieked Finn. “Maybe lemonade rain isn’t such a good idea, after all.”
 
That night, Finn pressed his nose against the window and watched the lemonade raindrops slide down the glass.
 “It's been raining lemonade all day. I’m so sick of the lemonade rain,” said Finn, putting on his pajamas.
“If only it rained something less sticky. Like….jelly beans! I wish it rained jelly beans! Chunky, chewy jelly beans! They wouldn’t be sticky or blobby. If it rained jelly beans, then I wouldn’t mind the rain so much,” said Finn, climbing into bed.


On Wednesday morning, Finn woke up to hear the pitter patter, clunk dunk of rain on the roof.
“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s raining again.”
But there were no drips on the windowpane at all.
Outside, Finn saw piles of brightly coloured raindrop puddles in the garden.
 “Jelly beans! It’s raining jelly beans!”
Finn raced outside to taste the rain.

He opened his mouth and chewed the raindrops.
He cupped his hands and caught a pile of jelly beans.
 It started raining harder and faster. Finn put his hands over his head.
“Ouch! This jelly bean rain hurts!” he said. “Maybe jelly bean rain isn’t such a good idea, after all.”

That night, Finn pressed his nose against the window and watched the jelly bean rain pile up outside.
 “It's been raining jelly beans all day. I’m so sick of the jelly bean rain,” said Finn, putting on his pajamas.
 “If only it rained something less painful. Like….marshmallows! I wish it rained marshmallows! Fluffy, soft, pink and white marshmallows! They wouldn’t be painful or sticky or blobby. If it rained marshmallows, then I wouldn’t mind the rain so much,” said Finn, climbing into bed.

 
On Thursday morning, Finn woke up to hear the pitter patter, flop, plop of rain on the roof.
“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s raining again.”
Outside, Finn saw piles of fluffy, pink and white pillowy puddles in the garden.
 “Marshmallows! It’s raining marshmallows!”
Finn raced outside to taste the rain.

 He opened his mouth and chewed the raindrops.
He cupped his hands and popped one little pink or white fluffy marshmallow raindrop after the other into his mouth. He happily chomped and chewed, and chewed and chomped.
Soon, Finn‘s stomach started to ache. He felt rather sick.
“Arrgh,” he groaned. “Maybe marshmallow rain isn’t such a good idea, after all.”
 
That night, Finn pressed his nose against the window and watched the marshmallow rain pile up outside. 
 “It's been raining marshmallows all day. I’m so sick of the marshmallow rain. I can’t even bear to watch it.”  Finn closed the curtains and put on his pajamas.
“If only rained something less sickly sweet. Like….water. I wish it rained water! Just fresh, clear water. It wouldn’t be sickly sweet or painful or sticky or blobby. If it rained water, then I wouldn’t mind the rain so much,” said Finn, climbing into bed.

 
On Friday morning, Finn woke up to hear the pitter patter, pitter patter of rain on the roof.
“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s raining again.”
 Running down the windowpane were wiggly lines of ordinary little raindrops.
Outside, Finn could see big, round puddles. 
 “Water! It’s raining water!”
Finn raced outside to taste the rain.

 Finn opened his mouth and drank the raindrops.
He cupped his hands and caught some water.
It was clear and fresh, and fell softly on his head.  
“Maybe water rain is the best kind of rain, after all,” said Finn.

 
On Saturday morning, Finn woke up to hear no pitter patter of rain on the roof at all.
He looked out of the window.
It was sunny!

 

 

Friday 20 September 2013

Short short story


 
Sweet Silence

Sunlight peeks through a slit in the curtains. She rolls over, sighs, stretches.

So rested. Not for months - over four - has she slept more than 3 hours at a time.

She listens. Sweet silence.  Dare she risk a shower?

The bliss of warm water cascading over the bulges and bumps where previously was sleek flesh. A moment of luxury, pure self-indulgence. Remembering how it felt, not to be so exhausted.  

Breasts bulging, she slips on her dressing gown. Tiptoes to the bedroom doorway.

The scent of powder and milkiness and soap and skin tantilises her nostrils.  A surge of longing.

Silence. Too much silence.   

Horror shoots up her spine. She leaps across the room, throws herself at the cot and grabs up the form.

Limp. Lifeless. Cold.

 Breasts pouring milky tears. Dry retching fear. Breath stolen from her lungs.

 “My baby!” she screams to an empty house.

 

Thursday 12 September 2013

Hell is Other People


“’Hell is other people’ (J-P Satre). But so is heaven”
             Johnathan Haidt, The Happiness Hypothesis.  Read it!
 

I remember doing a training exercise years ago, in which we had to cut out magazine pictures of things that were important to us and make a poster of them. Many people did pictures of family, forests, sea, fashion, pets, books, etc. What would be on yours? I covered mine with pictures of people. (I remember being frustrated when someone called it ‘conservative’ but it showed me photos in magazines really are of a narrow sector of society!) Yes, I love nature and books and movies and all those other things, but at the end of the day, what really matters is other people in my life. Although I do agree with Satre – people can also drive me nuts!
 

Yesterday a friend posted this on facebook;
 

(from The Idealist’s Photo website)

which reminded me of an old poem I wrote years ago & recently dug out of one of the screeds of journals which litter my bedside table, to type up. I can still adore people for something as simple as the way they smile, laugh, look after another person, move, tell a story, or speak.

 Just as long as I don’t have to live with them all….



 
I fall in love all the time
Just at a glance
I can fall
head over heels
for no reason at all
 
I fell in love
with my daughter’s doctor
his gentle accent
his delicate words
talking about her
asking about her
the way he carried his tall torso
as he leaned over her
checking her little body
the tubes and wires
her heartbeat
as she lay
healing on the bed
 
I fell in love
with a friend of a friend
her laughter
her sorrow
as she told of the fire
that destroyed her house
Her hair bounced, shook,
as she swished it out of the way
The distress of the recollection
shattering the smile on her lips
 
I fell in love with an aunt-to-be
(they never quite made the wedding
before the uncle died of cancer)
At the funeral
her tear-stained eyes
her bittersweet smile
her kind words for everyone else
her honesty, directness, openness
admitting her vulnerability
She warmed herself to me
 
I fall in love all the time
Just at a glance
I can fall
head over heels
for no reason at all