I should be in bed, but I’m sitting here listening to the rain. The windows are all wide open, even though the air is now chill and midnight long gone.
Ani, ever the opportunist, demanded the back door be opened when I gave up and came back downstairs… but reversed and retreated in disgust when she saw the shiny, wet garden reflecting the silvery glow of the streetlamp. She appears to be feeling much better, by the way… Her appetite is certainly back as she assisted me in my rummage through the fridge. Me, I was in search of the packet of frozen peas that serves as an ice pack… an interesting exercise in balancing the good against the bad as I needed it for the throbbing hands that were keeping me awake… but have Reynaud’s which really doesn’t like cold fingers.
Just to make sure that I have every excuse to be thoroughly miserable, the tinnitus is playing up something chronic tonight… and Ani had the last of of the milk before I went to bed, so the coffee is black. Not that I mind, you understand. I love black coffee… but there is a small, nagging voice making itself heard above the whining in my ears that says black coffee is probably not the best idea for insomnia. Perhaps I shouldn’t listen.
I’ll just listen to the rain instead. There is something about that sound that I love. Yesterday I stood under the canvas canopy in my son’s garden as the rain hurtled down. That sound takes me straight back to childhood camping trips. I can smell the cooking stove and the bacon frying… Then as an adult, touring England, Scotland and Wales… and I’ve barely scratched the surface for all the thousands of miles travelled around this little island. There is so much to see here…
…It occurs to me that having the windows wide open means they are getting rained on …on the inside. I’ll have to clean them tomorrow. And a slug has managed to wander in… the first of many, no doubt as Ani likes the doors open… even if she won’t venture out in the rain unless she has to.
I think I’d like to sleep under canvas tonight. Listening to the rain drowning the soundless noise in my ears, snuggled up in a sleeping bag with the earth as my pillow. With a good groundsheet, you understand. Against the pale, wet worms that are my pet nightmare. Though I probably shouldn’t think about those before I try and sleep again… especially as my younger son isn’t around to rescue me again…
Funny how many memories can be triggered by the sound of rain. You can almost watch the trail of associations unfold if you step away from yourself for a moment. The illogical appearance of the leaps the mind makes to join the dots of memory are a really series of invisible bridges with solid foundations; difficult to discern sometimes… yet they are there, obvious when you look closely. Though I haven’t quite worked out why Archibald Henry the disappearing tortoise of my infancy should come to mind… I can at least see why I should recall bathing the cat and trying to put it tail first through Mother’s mangle.
My hands feel as though that’s where they have been too…
I should probably go to bed…
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Hope you get some decent sleep. Meditating on the rain seems like a good idea – I, too, find it soothing!
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It worked too 🙂
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There is nothing like listening to the sound of rain! It is perfect
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I finally fell asleep to the sound of it through the open window of my bedroom. As you say… perfect.
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I hope you finally got some sleep Sue and a break from the throbbing hand.
xxx Massive Hugs xxx
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A bit, thank you David 🙂 Hugs xxx
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I have Velux windows in my study, having long been someone who doesn’t sleep well, I often write through the night. Snuggled under blanket,the village in darkness, the sound of rain on those windows is strangely soothing..I’ve often wondered what it is about the sounds of water; rain, rivers, streams, the sea – all soothing sounds. I often stand watching the waves drag at the pebbles, crash over the rocks on the beaches around here. Something to do with the human body being made up of a percentage of water? Some connection? Anyway, Sue, on a practical note, camomile tea, try a snooze today sometime.Sure Ani would love a cuddle up. And how about some thermal gloves? Take care. Jx
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Water does seem to have that deep attraction for us, doesn’t it? I wonder about the pull of the moon-tides…
I intend to try and have a nap today… having spent half the evening convincing my son of the benefits of napping where alertness, memory and creativity are concerned. I really ought to get into the habit 🙂
Not so sure about thermal gloves when they are so swollen at present… though Ani cuddles always help 🙂
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Oh, and loved your ‘mangle’ post. Brought back many childhood memories of steaming kitchens. Our first washing machine after we were married was a twin tub – thought I was the bees knees!
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Mine still had the electric mangle on the top. The twin tub, when it came, was luxury! 🙂
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so sorry to hear about your poor hands. I am constantly annoyed at how misfortune always seems to target the things we need most! Like my brain at the moment, but I refuse to elaborate!
Have your tried arnica gel?
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I have… and it did no good at all, unfortunately. Blood tests Thursday…
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Reblogged this on Anita & Jaye Dawes.
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I lve the sound of heavy rain when I’m snug inside. Went back to read your worm post. I don’t mind worms at all but you defnitely introduced an horror film element into that post!
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So do I 🙂
I went back and read it too… and wish I hadn’t… I really do 🙂
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..LUV the rain ..;):)
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So do I 🙂
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Reblogged this on oshriradhekrishnabole.
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I hope that midday finds you under a canvas top with the heavy patter of rain and time for a sleep. And you do. With hands comfortably propped upon a pillow and legs lofty upon a rise before you. And you dream of lovely rolling hills and ancient lands…..
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Oh now that sounds like heaven…. 🙂 Midday? I have four minutes…
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🙂 I hope you took them….
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As many as I could 🙂
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You live in a less than optimal place for Reynauds. I love listening to rain, too, but it signals that my hands will burn and ache with arthritis, so you have my sympathy!. Sounds like Ani is back to normal. Nice that you have her for company on a rainy night!
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I get that too… England isn’t good for that either 🙂 But I wouldn’t swap…
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You’re right about rain releasing a flood of memories (soz – crap pun). And such a soothing noise – I love being inside with the wind and rain rattling sash windows – I’m straight back to ten and tucked under the blankets.
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Oh now… sash windows put a whole new complexion on the memories, don;t they? 🙂
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Wondrous invention for the imagination…
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Always worried me though… shades of the guillotine…
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I remember dismantling one to replace a weight and finding a mummified rodent sort of woven into the rope… Now that does have the makings of a ghost story…
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Oh gawd… it does too!
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I once stepped on two huge slugs in bare feet. It permanently cured me of going outside barefoot. Bonnie like sitting in the doggie door with her head outside and the rest of her in the front hall. Lets in every flying insect in the world. But no slugs. I guess we should be grateful for small favors? Loved this post.
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Ani does the same with the back door and the slugs come in nightly… it is a damp country 🙂 I have stepped on a few barefoot… for a while I remember to wear slippers, but I’d a barefoot kind at heart… No doubt there will be other slugs…
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I’m sorry you and Ani are having health problems. For those slugs, what you need is a shrew or two. We had one make a home in our porch steps and she cleaned out the slugs in no time. 🙂
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I wouldn’t mind the odd shrew 🙂
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I love the sound of rain on the bedroom window when I am all tucked up in bed. I also enjoy seeing and hearing the rain at least once a week during an afternoon as it gives me time to catch up on chores, emails, and reading blogs.
I also remember, as a child, loving to be in my father’s garage when it rained so I could hear the sound of the rain on the pre-fab roof. There was something about it and me being in the garage that was all about security.
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I think that’s the same feeling as loitering within tent when the rain batters the canvas. Though I have just remembered the one time I shared a new, modern tent with my boyfriend at the time in the rain… and we both woke up bright blue with the dye. Don’t tell my sons. Hobbit I can cope with… Smurf might be too much 🙂
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Dare I say (or sing) “where are we we all coming from?” 🙂
I hope it was easy to wash off.
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Not in a cold stream it wasn’t 🙂
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I hope it wasn’t winter and you didn’t turn the fish blue? 🙂
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Summer… but it gets cold in them there hills.. 😉
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Smurfs. O Lord… Tracey has a Smurf song parody on CD … “Where are you all coming from? We’re from Dartmoor on the run!”.. Hope you are feeling better…
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I remember that ruddy song… and will now inevitably have it playing in my head all day, like it or not…Thanks Darcy! :O
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You’re welcome 🙂
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