I remember, when I was a little girl, summer was something I looked forward to all winter long and once it arrived, it seemed to stretch ahead forever. Back then, Memorial Day was not the beginning of summer, but rather the last holiday before school let out. The 4th of July, then, was the first holiday of summer, and Labor Day, the last. Whole lifetimes were lived in between.
I grew up in Western Pennsylvania, halfway between Pittsburgh and Erie. Except for the sky being much bigger here, Tulsa reminds me of that area. Especially today.
My grandmother would have said it rained cats and dogs today.
Here in Oklahoma, this kind of rain makes for flash flood warnings, but growing up, this was the perfect kind of rain to play in. No lightning, just lots of water. I remember gathering every kind of container I could find and “catching rainwater” from the downspouts on the house. There was such freedom in splashing around in the puddles, not caring if you were getting wet or muddy.
It’s supposed to keep this up until Saturday, according to the weatherman. Maybe tomorrow I’ll play in the rain.