Rainy Days and Mondays

Unlike the Carpenters, rainy days never get me down. I love a good rain. I could sit by the open window and just listen to the gentle patter all day. As the rain cleanses the air and refreshes the land, I feel my soul being cleansed and refreshed. In my current residence, rain is more scarce than even the desert I grew up in. My husband laughs that I get so worked up about water falling from the sky. 

Because I live in a valley and we get all the bad air from the surrounding big cities and the big farms (which contribute a surprising amount to the smog), there are weeks where I live in perpetual haze. It's like a film covers everything, including your lungs. Once the rain knocks the oil and dust out of the air, though, you can literally see the difference. When the air is clean, you can actually see the mountains that are only about 20 miles away. (This may sound like a joke, but I kid not. I count it a good day when I can see those mountains). Living here has really made me appreciate clean air all the more. 

I wish I could say that Mondays don't get me down, but that would be lying. Especially after working 9 hours on Saturday (when it was raining and windy and blissful outside and I had to miss it), I just feel like I haven't rested up enough to face another workweek. And yet, I'm so grateful that I have another workweek to face. One thing that has made this Sunday glorious is that I've had time to actually spend with my husband. Because we're on different schedules (as in, I work from 8-4:30 or so and he's in school during the day and working in the evening), it's been about 4 days since we've actually talked for more than 5 minutes over the phone on the lunch break. I missed him. 

We spent a lovely afternoon baking and making a stew to last us the week. I love working in the kitchen with him. It's time to talk, to connect, and to work together. It's been such a blessing that thus far he hasn't had to work on Sundays this semester. It makes all the difference in the world. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a book and a cup of licorice tea waiting for me by the open window . . .