Types of Rain.

I feel awash in rain, as I'm sure Inuits do in snow. As I was thinking this, I remembered how (allegedly) they had a hundred names for snow...which is false, by the way. They have the rough equivalent as English does for names of snow, whereas the Sami people of Europe, a tribal people of Finland, Norway, parts of Russia..you know, the fuckin' cold parts, now THEY had hundreds of words for snow.

SO. You're welcome for that useless piece of knowledge. And on to my point: I was thinking how in the six months (yowzers, six months in a few weeks since I've left home!) I've observed more weather changes, types of rain, size and intensity of hail and gusts than in all of my 26 years spent in southern California.

Currently, we've been storming on and off for almost a month. The off's have lasted about a day, with the rain lasting an average of 5-8 days without breaking. Last night, the hail was so intense that I worried it would break my windshield. When I awoke, it was still so cold outside that the hail had survived the following onslaught of rain and was still present in piles along the corner of my back porch steps.

I walked to my car in a heavy, gentle rain. I want to name this type George. It was the consistency of what we in the south called a "sprinkle" but with fat, loaded drops. Not a drencher, to be sure. Not like the insistent, odd mist-like rain that, when sighted from a window seems relatively harmless, but you step into and are immediately soaked. Usually accompanied by wind, so that if you had the foolish inclination to label yourself a townie and use an umbrella, it would be useless anyway. I would name that rain Snookie for it's vileness.

I'm sure you're bored about reading my thoughts on weather. Too bad. If you are, skedaddle. Because now I'm on to telling you about my latest adventures, which is the good part (theoretically), so if you WERE bored and already left, you resilient ones get to hear the good stuff.

I went home recently to witness the birth of my second goddaughter. Unfortunately, she's a stubborn little mermaid and didn't want to come out while I was there, but did 2 weeks later :D Charlotte Faith (my choice, I know..it's lovely) was born a healthy 7 lbs 2 oz and her sister, my Evey, is a smitten kitten with her. Life for my little Arizona family is good..or will be once Jessica gets the damage done to her by the car accident fully understood and treated.

I was home with my parents for a few days after Phoenix, and I spent as much time with them as I could. I visited with my Italians, said toodles to my Aunt and Uncle before they vamanosed it to their retirement villa in Arizona (that damn state sucks up all of my people!), and saw Matt, Melanie, Sharky, Tarah, Kathleen and my Thompson family, and a few others <3 My heart aches the most whenever I leave my Mattie though, as silly as it sounds, and I think it's probably because in all the years of our friendship we've never spent significant time away from each other. Sharky and I survived her crappy relationship, Mel and I are all about phones ANYWAY, Kathleen ditched me for Africa for years, and my Milla and I are often apart but always soul-connected. Me and Matt though...it hurts to be far from him, and I don't like it. Whenever I consider moving back, it's usually because I miss him and my *many* parents the most.

I proposed to Matt for the umpteenth time, which he refused. Someday though, that sucker is going to accept!

While I was getting Lucy's shots updated and her microchipped at the Humane Society on Saturday, a nice couple from Muscoy (I know, when do those two phrases go together?) were looking for a home for a small puppy they had found in their neighborhood. Found in a litter of 3, they'd procured homes for the other two but were unsuccessful with her. There were interested parties, but the couple was worried they wanted to fight her (she's going to be huge). I told them that if they didn't find someone else to take her by the time I left, I would, and sure enough, there she was when I walked out. I named her Ethel. She's 11 weeks old now, and was determined by my vet to be a Rottweiler mix. She's a joy, and so smart, that when I get over my frustration all I feel at having Lucy and Ethel here in Crescent City with me is happiness and joy and thankfulness. They fill up the cup that was so easily one of loneliness.

I volunteered on Sunday at the Marine Mammal Center. They save local seals that have been abandoned by the mother or moved by onlookers or attacked. Yeah, attacked. By PEOPLE. Apparently, since this area has a lot of fisherman and crabbers, they hate seals for the competition they pose and if they see pups on the beach, will often let their dogs attack them, etc. It's pretty gnarly. I helped feed and bathe two 10-day old Harbor seal pups and hope to continue the practice whenever I'm in town on Sundays. I love the volunteering spirit that's so prevalent here. Everyone seems to contribute to the whole in some way...except for the meth addicts and moochers, of course, but you never count them.

I should be meeting my CASA kid this week. He seems like a really awesome guy from what's written about him on paper, so I'm really excited to help him plan his future in any way I can. If I can be a factor that facilitates him taking steps to success, then I'll feel like I'm paying back a part of this weightless, sacred debt that I'm carrying.

You know the one. Give back what you were given. Pay it forward. Do something that leaves people with a good taste in their mouth. Be as divine as your soul allows.

Check.