On a rainy November afternoon in 2011, Cookie was so unhappy with the cold wet rain that she decided to make fun of my habit of quoting lyrics and titles from pop songs. I’m not sure which of us was acting more absurd: her for wandering around in the rain, mud and wet leaves, or me for following her through it to take photographs and notes on her conversation.
. . . . . . .
This walking in the rain stuff isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. The ground is all wet, the leaves are slippery, and there isn’t a spot of sun to sit in. But have you ever seen the rain comin’ down on a sunny day?
I stepped up on my log and onto the picnic table bench and all the way up on the table, and it’s just wet everywhere. Really, I just can’t stand the rain. Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head, and it’s so dark, it’s just like a rainy night in Georgia. If the rain was purple, or if there was some fire to go with the rain, that might be kind of cool.
But this has to clear up, nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain.
All I want is to sit on my picnic table and look at the yard, and I wonder, still I wonder, who’ll stop the rain? Not my mom. And I honestly think she’s putting words in my head because she’s singing in the rain and I just wish she’d stop! Now I’ll have these songs in my head all day!
She always tried to blame these things on me!
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