Day 47 #100DaysOfOldDays

Today’s post is also part of #WQW from Marsha Ingrao on Always Write Blog. Rain Has The Edge!

How does rain fit into chats about the old days? Rain is the same—probably—since the first day it ever rained on earth. I wonder when that was! Do we even know? How would we know? I’m stopping there because that kind of thing freaks me out! I like talking about the old times but NOT as far back as the beginning of time.

Rain may be the same as it always was, but in this neck of the woods, I notice one little thing that has changed.

Unless our children are into football or hurley they can’t be out in the rain. Play outside in the rain? No…they might catch a cold, the rain might seep into their pores and dilute their blood (maybe). I’d have a canary if my child was outside playing in the rain. I might get reported for neglect if nothing else.

When we were children we played outside a lot. We went home when we were hungry, at bedtime, or if our lives were in danger.

We were also mini meteorologists—all of us.

When we’d feel a few drops of rain, we’d laugh and then look up to the sky to predict our actions. Stay out or go home?

One or two pale grey clouds meant a brief shower; no need to go home.

A moderate cloudy sky with more white clouds than grey ones, meant a drizzly type of rain—it will make us wet but it will happen slowly; no need to go home.

A cloudy sky with the sun peeping through a dark grey one, meant a sun shower (our favourite); definitely no need to go home.

Scattered grey clouds in a blue sky, meant slow rain—big fat drops that tumbled down leisurely, with loads of space between each one, so we could dodge most of them; no need to go home.

Swirling grey clouds on a windy day, meant find the nearest bush and stay under it until the rain passes; no need to go home.

A black sky with no sign of blue, a rumbling in the distance. Mmm…scan further afield with our radar eyes. If the hills of East Knockbride suddenly illuminated under a flash of lightening; go home immediately.

The sun shines after the storm; go back outside.

This reminds me of the time I was on the back lane smoking with my friend Anne. We were sharing a Gold Bond cigarette that she sneaked from her mother. Too engrossed in the secrecy of smoking, we didn’t look up to the sky when it began to rain.

We took shelter deep in the bushes. As we puffed on the coffin nail, the thunder lifted us out of it. We contemplated making a run for it but we were too afraid that the lightening would hit us. We stayed in the bushes shivering with fright. I don’t know about Anne, but I got into terrible trouble when I got home for staying out during the thunder storm.

Having said all that, we live in denial of Ireland’s ability to slyly amalgamate the seasons. The first sign of a heatwave and we swarm to the beach. Only to get there and realise, it’s not a heatwave…it’s just the sun coming out of hibernation. We sit on the cold sand wrapped in a towel oblivious to the grey damp clouds on the horizon. We ignore the wee drops of rain because we’ve made it to the beach and we’re all set up now—our windbreakers will keep us dry!

We go off walking in the sunshine without an umbrella or a raincoat, and then get caught in the rain. We organise barbecues when the sun comes and end up finishing everything inside on the grill.

We have Easter egg hunts—in the snow!

Yet…we don’t send the children out to play in the rain like in the old days! We’re a funny bunch really!