It rained almost all day Saturday. Thunder. Lightening. Rain. Which is unusual and strange and will probably do nothing to alleviate the drought.
Our evening plans were cancelled due to the weather, so we ended up at my sister’s for pizza and ice cream. It’s been kind of an odd summer. I’m not really thinking about home, but as our days here wind down, it’s been harder for me to stay in the present. My mom is having knee surgery in a week, so there is that, too. I keep telling myself that soon all this will be behind us and yet, I don’t really want the time to pass — I wish we could start over. I want to be back in San Luis, See Canyon to Avila Beach, Los Osos Valley Road to Montano de Oro.
Last night, as we took the 134 into Pasadena, clouds and fog clung to the mountains. I thought about the last time I was here in the rain, and I couldn’t remember, except that I know it rained the morning of my wedding, and then again that same year at Christmas. I think it was an El Nino year.
My son heard about a meeting of rat rods at the LA river, “just like the old days, mom…” though he only knows about old days from movies and youtube clips. “You know we can’t go,” I told him. “It’s just not the kind of thing we can do.” And I know he understands, but he’s disappointed too. Souped up hot rods racing in the dry river basin? LA is part fantasy, part reality for all of us. But I can only blur the lines so much.
I’m not sure how I’ll remember this summer. I think my expectations are too high. Somehow my time here in LA was supposed to make up for cancer and a crappy winter, but I know now that’s not going to happen.
It’s supposed to rain again on Monday — I guess sometimes you just have to make your own sunshine.