Day 301 - 303: Rains

LA styled by rain looks like this:


Day 301 - April 11, 2012
After a stellar weekend of sunshine, a storm has hit the Southland.
Here's Balloona Creek, which actually looks like a creek for once.



Not only does this weather make me appreciate the nice weather all the more, it's a reminder that balance in all things is at times uncomfortable but necessary.

Day 302 - Thursday, April 12, 2012

Today was a bit of a rainy, dreary day. In order to best use up some of my leftovers, I tossed some broccoli, chickpeas and feta over some orecchiette for dinner. Then, to use up the zucchini, I made Zucchini Spice Bread. It came out pretty lovely!
I tried to put a line of walnuts down the center to make it look all gourmet and arty. Would-be bakers, a note: walnuts are heavier than this baking mix and sink into it. So there are random walnuts floating in this zucchini loaf, an accidental surprise treat for the consumer.



Day 303 - April 13, 2012
Today I was an idiot and tried to beat the weather (how might one do this? how does one "beat" the weather?). This was not particularly well thought out. I know from numerous volksmarches in my childhood that the saying, "Just because it's raining here doesn't mean it's raining there!" is stupid and naively wishful thinking. No. It's raining there too. It doesn't matter where there is. Put your sweatpants on and curl up with some tea and soup, and keep your idiot self inside.
Instead, I biked to work in the rain. It wasn't raining when I left my little apartment, but as soon as I got a reasonable distance away (ie, far enough that my pride wouldn't allow me to turn around and just drive to work like a normal person) it started pouring. Luckily I had my trusty rainjacket on and Emile's generous birthday gift of a Timbuk2 bike bag is waterproof, but there's not much to say for your pride when your Keds are soaked and your toes inside freezing, your jeans clinging to your goosebumped legs, and water is dripping off your helmet into your eyes causing you to blink like a strobe light.
In trying to shoehorn this experience into something grateful, I can honestly say I'm grateful for:
a). Coworkers that say, "The weather is crap. Let's order pizza for lunch." Heck yes.
b). Coworkers that own trucks, take pity on your miserable appearance, and offer to drive you & your bike home (without laughing at you openly). Thank you Vivian.
c). Friday nights with nothing planned except sweatpants, wine, and movies.

Until c) starts, stay dry, my friends!

Day 65: Summer storms

I'm grateful for sudden, gorgeous, ravishing, drenching summer storms.


The Beauty of the Rain
By Dar Williams

And you know the light is fading all too soon
You're just two umbrellas one late afternoon
You don't know the next thing you will say
This is your favorite kind of day
It has no walls, the beauty of the rain
is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls

And there's nothing wrong, but there is something more
And sometimes you wonder what you love her for
She says you've known her deepest fears
Cause she's shown you a box of stained-glass tears
It can't be all, the truth about the rain
is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls

But when she gave you more to find
You let her think she'd lost her mind
and that's all on you
Feeling helpless if she asked for help
or scared you'd have to change yourself

And you can't deny this room will keep you warm
You can look out of your window at the storm
But you watch the phone and hope it rings
You'll take her any way she sings,
or how she calls, the beauty of the rain
is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls
How it falls, how it falls, how it falls

Day 45: Catch-22 of Life

Today while I was walking home from the gym it was pouring rain, but the sun was busting out, steaming, from behind the clouds. It was a sunny rain.

This contradiction reminded me of Catch-22, which I just finished reading ("There was only one catch, and that was Catch-22"). Heller's play on the ridiculousness of bureaucracy, war, government, and human attempts at logic in general are amusing, bittersweet, painful, and hysterical simultaneously. It's the old adage that you get what you want (or need) after you give it up, no longer need it. It's an Alanis Morrisette song, too (although that reference dates me). I am grateful for these little eccentricities, and I have to laugh at them and love them. I am grateful just to notice them, to be an observer.