I’m allowed to change my mind.

Today is an exciting day. Last night I slept upstairs for the first time in almost a year. Since I came home from rehabilitation last December, I’ve been downstairs in the guest room. IMG_1108Yesterday my daughter and I cleaned my room and carried my clothes back upstairs. I suddenly came to the realization that I belong in my bed. I don’t like feeling like a  guest here. It took me a while to go to sleep but once I did, I slept all night. Lulu didn’t have any difficulty making the transition. She went to sleep straight away.

After falling down the stairs last year, my first thought was that I should sell my house and move to a one-story place. It seemed reasonable, the right thing to do.

As time passed, though, I started to feel more and more unsettled about that decision. Fortunately, I can change my mind. And so I did. The thought of downsizing a second time became a great weight on my shoulders. It’s too heavy and I’m unwilling to carry it. I have the option of doing it later — or not.

I feel lighter and happier than I have in a long time.

Pluviophile.

PLUVIOPHILE: (n) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.
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The definition above is the most simple one I could find to describe this lovely word. The meaning is evident to anyone who spends time taking apart and playing with language. I love words. I like saying them, sometimes even when I don’t know what they mean. I looked this one up just to see if there were some undertones or overtones that I could learn. And there are. There can be a sexual connotation. There are some who would argue that a Greek word would better fit the definition. Don’t remember the Greek word. Have some fun — look it up.

Sometimes I’m a pluviophile, sometimes not. This is the second day that we have had constant, steady rain day and night. We need the rain. We’re a little below our average. That knowledge makes me more accepting of rainy days than I might be otherwise. And when I become intolerant, it’s usually because the gray skies; the lack of sunshine is taking a toll. As you can see in the photo above, an umbrella a la Monet goes long way on a rainy day.

IMG_1082-2I love the way the rain wets the remaining, soon-to-fall, colorful leaves and gives them an almost neon brilliance. This scene is my constant companion as I write and enjoy the gas logs in my family room.

I was a serious lover of rainy days as a child. My brother and I used to beg our mom to let us play in the rain. If it wasn’t lightning she would sometimes relent and out we’d go straight for the puddles where we squished mud through our toes. I know she didn’t like the clean up that followed our muddy forays into nature but she was a good sport about it. Fortunately, not all of her five children were eager to play in the mud. That would have meant a really big mop up.

I don’t care for the way the rain wets the steps I have to take to get the mail. I have what used to be considered a rural-type mail box. Now they’re used in neighborhoods and subdivisions in the suburbs. Mine is at the foot of my driveway, not far at all. Far enough, though, to be iffy when wet.IMG_1087

Not long ago I wouldn’t have given a second thought to a little rain on the steps or the sidewalk. That was before I took that life-changing fall in October, 2014. Now I find myself ever alert and checking out the big picture and the minute details a great deal more carefully. Are there wet leaves on the wet steps? Is there a rail I can hold? Am I wearing appropriate shoes? Is my phone in my hip pocket? And you get the picture.

The challenge, of course, is to live each day as normally as possible. I’ve never been a scaredy cat and I don’t intend to be one now. I still have some spontaneity in me but I’m more likely to access it on a fair weather day. That doesn’t mean I stay in on rainy days. It does mean I routinely do a quick mental scan about what I’m wearing, whether I have plenty of gas in my car, and how tired I am.

I’ve learned that I much more likely to make mistakes when I’m over tired. I also know that the statisticians predict that I am MUCH more likely to take another debilitating fall because I had the first one. My goal in life is to prove them wrong. The challenge is to disprove their theory by living my life as normally as possible without becoming obsessed with the possibility/likelihood of falling. I’m walking tall and straight with a firm step. I’m thinking positively. Always.

Whenever I think or write about rainy days, I start enumerating the many songs I know about rain and rainy days. If you’re in the mood, check out my Bob Dylan link to one of my favorite rain songs  www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6v5HrfeeV8