Tag Archive for: Rain

Rain and Rainbows

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Rain and Rainbows by Debra H.
Goldstein

“Rain, Rain, Go Away. Come again
another day.”  If this was California or
during a summer draught in Alabama, this refrain would be the last thing coming
out of my mouth.  Right now, the storms have
been so intense we are in a state far from water rationing.  Sadly, during the past few weeks, tornados
and floods have destroyed homes, possessions, and people.  Thunder, lightning, and sheering winds have
sent people to their shelters, caused dogs to run amuck in fear, and knocked
out power sources with regularity. The rain has pummeled everything.

There have been a few high
points.  Gardens are still lush and
green.  Flowers, not realizing that this
is winter, are blooming early and those that have blossomed are retaining their
beauty.  Kids are loving the abundance of
puddles to jump in.

At times, my mood reflects the
rain. Somber, dark, unrelenting but then there are days that the rain is
constant, but soft, and I find myself curled in a chair reading, peaceful,
sleepy and content.  My writing reflects
the difference in these days.  The rain
keeps me indoors so I am keeping my resolution of writing regularly, but in
reading it back, I see the impact of the weather.  A gloomy short story, a tale with a ray of sunshine. 

I want the rain to be replaced by
a rainbow, but it probably won’t happen. 
At least, not in the real world, but isn’t it wonderful that as a writer
we can make it happen in the world we are creating?

My wish for you this week –
rainbows.

Chart Watching

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by Bethany Maines

He looked at the chart but he look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain
Originally, this was a post about publishing.  I’ve been singing this song for the better
part of a month feeling that it related to my efforts in self-publishing. Having
the ability to have live updated sales results is not really as fun as it
sounds. Or at least it’s not good for ongoing peace of mind. The world of
publishing has changed. Now every author must do the work that previously was
performed by publishing houses – namely, marketing. And the secret thing about
marketing that every marketing professional would prefer you not know, is that
you can never quite tell what’s going to work. So with every fresh effort, I
flip back to the chart to see if there’s rain or not. Some sprinkles, some
gushers, some droughts – and that is the way of the writing life now.  But there’s more to that song, and the rest
of the lyrics are more applicable to the real world right now than they are to any personal
concerns I have about my writing and sales.
Turned on the weather man just after the news
I needed sweet rain to wash away my blues
He looked at the chart but he look in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain
Much of the state of Washington, my state, is on fire. This
song isn’t much of a metaphor; it’s what we’re all doing. We’re literally out
of firefighters and the ones that are on the line are working days in a row
with little to no sleep. Firefighters from Australian and New Zealand arrived on
Monday to help and we couldn’t be happier to see them. We literally need all
the help we can get.
There is a line of mountains between the fires and my house
and still the sky is frequently a hazy yellow from smoke. Yesterday, I could
look at the sun directly because there was so much smog that it was only a
burning circle of orange in the sky.
Sometimes my state feels culturally divided by that chain of
mountains, but this fire has turned us all into obsessed weather forecast
watchers. My facebook feed is filled with pictures of rain – a virtual rain
dance for our home and our friends. Weather forecasting has taken a giant step
forward due to computing speeds and modeling, but Washington is still one of
the toughest places to forecast. All the data in the world can’t entirely
predict if rain is going to fall. We all watch the chart, but so far, heavy
cloud, no rain.

So, if you’re a praying person, pray for some rain. If you’re
a donating person, you can view this article from local reporter Jesse Jones, for where to send donations. Washington thanks you.
Bethany Maines is the author of the Carrie
Mae Mysteries, Tales from the City of
Destiny and An Unseen Current.
 You can also view the Carrie Mae youtube video
or catch up with her on Twitter and Facebook.

Hooray, it Rained and Snowed in the Mountains

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For all of you who don’t live in California, I’m sure you think I’m a bit nuts since the rest of the country has had their fill of rain and snow. But here in California, we’re having drought conditions. No rain for about two months, and this is our rainy season. We seldom have any rain in the summer, so we count on the snow melt to keep our rivers flowing and the lakes for recreation and more importantly, irrigation, full. All of California is suffering–not good for all the crops. (Think citrus, grapes, peaches, plums etc. and strawberries, all kind of vegetables and nuts too. We also grow lots of cotton.)

Right now the river behind our house is barely moving–and people all along the way count on this water for irrigation too. Our lake that the river feeds into is not much more than a giant mud hole.

Some of the Indians have been doing rain dances and a group of Catholic Bishops have been getting together to pray for rain. We’ve been praying in church for snow in the mountains and rain in the valley in our church too.

So night before last when I woke up to heavy rain fall, I was thrilled. And in the morning it was still raining.
Even better, when I looked out the window, I could see snow on the mountains. It’s a good start, but we need much, much more.

On email I saw a photo of snow that my grandson’s wife displayed on Facebook–snow in Aspen where they live. It puts a lot of others’ snowfall to shame. Too bad we can’t get a small part of this.

So I’m going to keep praying for rain and snow in the mountains.

Marilyn aka F. M. Meredith

Heavy Cloud, No Rain

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by Bethany Maines
It’s fall again. In Washington State that usually means a
return of gray skies, cold weather, and a persistent morning mist that makes it
feel like the your day is starting off with a little bit of a smokers
cough.  This is when I burrow under
a pile of blankets, shove my feet under a dog and return to writing.
Unfortunately for my writing, and for the wild fires raging over my state, the
weather has been unrepentantly sunny. 
The last time we had measurable rainfall was July 22.  We have now passed the 1951 record of
51 days without rain.
What the heck is going on!  If I wanted blue skies I’d move to California!  My running shoes should be caked in mud
by now; instead, they’re leaving a fine silt of dust between my toes at every
jogging opportunity.  That’s just…
it’s just not normal.  I’m having
mud withdrawals.  And writing
withdrawals.
During the summer I try not to worry too much about how much
I am or am not writing.  After all
the season is so short, I need to cram in all the outdoor activity I can.  But I’m starting to have that feeling I
call The Looming Fat. 
Think of The Looming Fat as that feeling you get after
having spent a month on vacation eating nothing but gloriously fatty foods, and
then you return home.  And you know
the fat’s there, but as long as you don’t step on the scale you can pretend the
fat hasn’t settled into a permanent home on your rear end. But still the fat
looms behind the door and prepares to jump out at you when you least expect it
– like when you try on a pair of slacks for the first time before going back to
work. 
Only in this case, it’s the Looming Brain Fat.  Having spent most of the summer
watching the Olympics and reading “trashy” (aka fun) novels my writing muscles
may have developed a little bit of spare tire.  And instead of settling down, like they should, and plotting
out a new novel, they seem to be requesting more trashy novels and continuing
episodes of Grimm.  “This is not
productive!” I yell at them.  They
give me the stink eye and tell me to come back when it’s cold out. 
The good news is that Friday’s forecast says, “chance of
rain.”  Make that a “chance of
writing” and maybe I’ll make it to winter.

Bethany Maines is the author of Bulletproof Mascara, Compact With the Devil and Supporting the Girls.  Catch up with her at www.bethanymaines.com or check out the new Carrie Mae youtube video.

It’s Raining on My Car

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or 
Why I’m Thankful
by Bethany Maines

So it’s the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house…  Yeah, Thanksgiving eve doesn’t quite have the same storied tradition as Christmas, does it? The kids don’t get giggly in excitement waiting for the giant turkey to burst out of the oven and give them the gifts of candied yams. (Although, now that I mention it, how fun would that be?) 
Not that the night before Thanksgiving doesn’t have traditions. There’s the frenzied run to the store.  The scrambling for some sort of dinner because the entire refrigerator is jammed with Thanksgiving food. The eating of the sacrificial pumpkin pie (ok, maybe that one’s just me). And of course, since it’s Thanksgiving in the Pacific Northwest there’s a down pour of rain. And now apparently, at my house, there’s the tradition of re-roofing the carport. Frankly, I was expecting more baking and less hammering with my Thanksgiving. But as my husband and I were discussing the additional strain on the budget, and the seriously lame prospect of roofing in the rain I realized something. While it is a serious inconvenience to be relocating all the cabinetry for our upcoming bathroom remodel to middle of the kitchen, well, we have a kitchen. And a bathroom. And a living room. And bedrooms. None of which are leaking. 
When my husband and I moved into our house, we’d spent a month sprucing it up, painting, and remodeling. Then, the night after we officially moved in, I was, shall we say, “released on my own recognizance,” a victim of our new economic reality. I was more than a bit concerned that we were going to lose the house. And now, a little over two years later, I’m worried about the car-port roof leaking like a colander. You know what? I’ll take it. 
The economy has pushed a lot of people who thought they were safe to the brink and every day more people lose their jobs or visit a food bank that never thought they’d be in that situation. The fact that my husband and I aren’t among them is purely due to the grace of God, unemployment and the unending support of our family and friends. So if the night before Christmas is for hoping for presents, then the night before Thanksgiving must be for counting your blessings. I know I’ve been given a boatload of them, including a great virtual group of friends here on the Stiletto Gang.  So to all of you out there in internet land, thanks for being part of my world. I hope you are all safe, fed, and with your loved ones.