A Rose by Any Other Name
First it was too hot, now it won’t stop raining.
I’m feeling like the little girl Margot from the Ray Bradbury short story All Summer in a Day. In this story, Margot is a little girl who has moved to Venus with her parents. Venus is an extremely wet wet existence and the sun only appears for one hour every seven years. The kids in Margot’s class are envious of Margot because she remembers life on earth. A life with sun. The wenches lock her in a closet and forget about her until the rain appears again. The story ends there.
I feel like Margot. I am so sick of the rain.
I know the rain brings life, as evidenced by the one rose bud on the bush in the yard, but this dreary, weepy weather is no good for people who need the sun. In the rain, I have to dash to my car, dash to my destination, cover up. At least in the winter, I can engage in a snowball fight, build a fort, and end the day with a toddy.
In the rain, it’s just one gray day after another, the skies are overcast and a toddy will only make one feel even more blue.
I’m trying to find something positive. The lone rose is pretty, but not enough to shake me out of my funk. I have a few books to read and some toe up socks to work on, but I can’t get past my crabby mood.
April is over. Where are the May Flowers, dammit?