Save Me!

The rain, the rain, the rain. I may go absolutely crazy if we get one more day of rain and since the weather channel is predicting 6 more days of it, sign me up for the nut house now.

I mean, why do we live here? I could move to Bermuda, Brent could teach there, the girls and I could live in shorts, we could live in a shack by the beach. Why do we live here? What makes it so hard for us to contemplate moving? I mean, there are other houses, other gardens we could plant, other friends to be made, grandparents can visit...geez, they'd probably love an excuse to go somewhere warm.

Today I went on strike, unfortunately without telling anyone, so the day turned into a whiny ("when are we having breakfast?") sort of a day. I am ashamed to admit I am still in my pyjamas. Mind you I didn't wear them to bed last night, but still the slovenliness of it all boggles my mind.

I also made the poor choice of flipping through a biography of Laura Ingalls Wilder during the long damp and mouldy stretch of a day and, close on the heels of reading "Plum Creek" to the girls, I am again astounded that Ma didn't smother them all in a fit of depression or during her own form of weather induced craziness. I mean , I have books, the Olympics (don't get me started on how late I am staying up for those), phones, movies and stores to go to (I sound lazy and self indulgent...other than the Olympics and books I have partaken of none of those things lately- poor me). What did Caroline Ingalls have in her that kept her going, out on the prairie with three small children, a dog, and a husband who, let's face it, kind of did whatever the he** he wanted to do including packing them all up countless times to trek across the country.

I want to be like Ma, but I'm afraid lately Roseanne (remember that stupid show?) is closer to reality...and I really don't like that.

If only the sun would come out...