rain rain, go away

It's been raining pretty much non-stop for three days now. And I'm beyond sick of it. I hate the rain and all its wetness. It makes for groggy days and soggy yards. Yesterday the sun actually came out in the afternoon and SidMo and I were able to get out and play in the pool of rain water standing in the yards.





You think that's weird? Maybe. We tried to go play in the creek that runs behind the house, but it was gushing for once in it's miserable life and we couldn't go near it. The horse fields were too mushy to get down and run around in, so we couldn't play with Jack. Both of us were bored to tears from being cooped up inside the past few days, so we found other ways of amusing ourselves.





It reminded me so much of being a kid, growing up down there on that same patch of land. I'm an only child and there weren't any neighborhood kids that I could really play with on a regular basis. Most of the time it was up to me to amuse myself; I cannot tell you how many countless hours I spent roaming around the yards, behind the barn and playing in the creek. We used to have all kinds of animals running around the place: ducks, turkeys, guineas, cats and dogs of all shapes and sizes. At one time, I think we had about 20 cats (until they all started mysteriously dying, but that's another story). My animals were my friends and together we did everything.





Sometimes I feel guilty for not having fancy playgrounds or exciting places to take SidMo on a regular basis to have a little fun. Our nearest Chuck E. Cheese is an hour away. Everything mainstream is an hour or more away. We can go to the playground at the school or hit up the games inside the Pizza Plus, but other than that we've got nothing. But that's okay - sometimes having nothing makes you see the beauty in everything.





As Sidney continues to grow and learn more about the world around her, I hope that I'm able to show her the fun side to everything in life. I hope I can teach her that being by yourself doesn't always mean you're alone. When I was a kid, we used to have to mow our nearly 1 acre tract of yard two times a week. It took forever and it was beyond boring - but up on that lawn mower I found my creative side. I'd monologue out entire plays and talk to myself like a total lunatic. I'd make up songs and sing them at the top of my lungs. I was free to be creative and free to hear myself be creative out loud. Sure, it was all while I was sitting on a lawn mower and no one could hear me - but I could hear me. When no one else could, I learned to listen to myself.





SidMo has got such potential to be amazing - I know she's going to do great things. And even if those great things aren't recognized by the world, I'll always know she's great. I've seen her grow from day one. I've been listening to her find her own voice and watching her follow her own feet. Right now she's in this little bubble that is her homegrown life; someday she might expand her borders and travel the world. But for now, she's got the yard and the barn and the creek to keep her busy. It's always been enough for me. I hope it's always going to be enough for her.