U is for: Unplanned, Upsetting the Apple Cart, Unexpected

I had plans for tonight, a treat. I dressed up, did my hair, was ready for a little showy fun.

But no. Work had other plans, plans that required me to stay at my desk late, later, latest. And then this storm, reminder of the dreary turn of my events, the washing out of what should have been a fun evening. Sigh.

Night Storm

And the sky cries rain
pours it down in waves, in sheets,
looking like my mood
this grey and ugly Tuesday.
And my plans are smashed
I am sour and prickly,
wishing myself done —
away from anywhere here.
Not as bad as that —
not really. The sound of rain
sings on my windows,
Makes me remember
AC singing Nora Jones
under his tin roof
his laughter making me smile.
Makes me remember
red pants, their dye running down
turning my sneakers
from cream white to fuchsia pink
bringing more laughter.
Good to recall other storms,
changes in old plans,
that the storm isn’t to blame.
Good to remember
these other moments, laughter,
Good to remember myself,
sitting quiet, listening.


A chōka is a Japanese form poem with a specific syllable count per line. The shortest form of chōka  is: 5 / 7 / 5 / 7 / 5 / 7 / 5 / 7 / 7. The 5- and 7-syllable lines can repeat as many times as needed. The poem’s end is signaled by the extra 7-syllable line. The final five lines can be used to summarize the body of the poem.



A little white noise for my listening pleasure.

Station break for a musical interlude courtesy of BJ Thomas:

 Raindrops keep falling on my head.
And, just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed,
nothing seems to fit.
Those raindrops keep falling on my head,
they keep falling …

I don’t remember to sing that one often enough.

It’s been raining all day, a nice back drop to my day.  Rain is one of my favorite kinds of white noise.  I’ve actually downloaded several excellent storm to my “white noise” playlist.  It helps when I’m trying to work on a grant proposal and having trouble focusing.  It helps when I’m on a plane and feeling claustrophobic and stressed.  It helps when I’m meditating.  When I discovered that I could find white noise on iTunes and Google Play Music … oh, happy day.

The best white noise for my money is thunderstorms (I have six of these downloaded).  Love, love, love me some thunder in the distance as I’m listening to my rain storm.  I like thunderstorms in real life, too.  Today’s storm hasn’t had any thunder, but the rain has been lovely.  I’ve been reading, writing, doing my hair (a crazily labor-intensive process that deserves a month of slices all to itself).  All the while listening to the soft sound of the rain.  I’m feeling very soothed.

And there’s more on tap for tomorrow.  Tomorrow will be a little less fun because I’ll be out and about in it more than today.  Which is a good reminder that I need to restart my search for a good, fun, happy-colored pair of rain boots and a nice big umbrella.  I have neither of these things now, and I feel the lack.  I like walking in the rain, and the little purse-sized umbrellas I use are serviceable, but they’re so ordinary, so un-fabulous.  I love a big, old-fashioned umbrella, the sound of the rain on that gorgeous, thick, oiled fabric.  Sigh.  I’m remembering the beautiful, deep blue umbrella I bought in a little shop in Pisa 30 years ago.  That thing was a work of art.

Now it’s time to fall asleep to the sound of the rain.  Delicious.

Raindrops keep falling on my head.
But that doesn’t mean my eyes will soon be turning red.
Crying’s not for me,
’cause I’m never gonna stop the rain by complaining.
Because I’m free.
Nothing’s worrying me.


Sing in the rain all the way over to Two Writing Teachers to see all of today’s slices.

SOL image 2014