In February I looked hopefully out our train windows at the grasses turning green, but by mid March record high heat seemed to sip all the color right out of them and almost everything through those windows was yellow by April. It made me think of the water tanks in Catalina and how if you opened one you could probably see the bottom.
On my birthday, after we finished the backyard and planned a baby-shower-luau, it finally poured. Last week new clouds came and did the same thing. I used it as an excuse not to water any of the hanging baskets. I love how sometimes when it pours everything starts to look the same, doughnut shops and clouds, cop cars and bushes, but then when it stops everything looks different.
I am quiet and contemplative today as the rain falls haphazardly. Sometimes my voice even surprises me when I hear it out loud talking to Sprout about ripe avocados and surfing in Mexico.
When people ask when the baby will be here we respond now with how many weeks are left instead of how many months. I look in the nursery and think about how I want to get storage baskets that will hold baby powder and wipes conveniently next to the changing pad. It’s easier to draw my focus in on little things that need to happen instead of bigger things.
Lack of sleep and surfing, hormones, Scott going out of town this weekend and the unfortunate passings of people I love has left me in some sort of fog not unlike the one accumulating outside my windows right now.
Over vegetarian sushi last night I tell Scott I actually don’t understand how not to worry and that even though I will soon join him in drinking a beer and having a few pieces of sushi, I will take on a whole new set of worries about other things like SIDS and choking hazards.
Life is long and short.
We feel we have so much control over it and none at all.
These things I know, but tell me honestly, how do you get past worrying about it all?
I’m hoping some of these wonderful anxieties will clear away with the rain as well as some advice.