Library – Thankful Thursday

Today I am grateful for city libraries and their wonderful free wifi that they share with people who don’t have internet at home. Like me.

image: chairs at the library, from martha0stout's phone

image: chairs at the library, from martha0stout’s phone

Check out the original Thankful Thursday. ( I will update link when able.)

EDIT: Link updated as of May 2, 2015.


It’s Raining, It’s Storming…

Yesterday it rained a lot (it’s still raining/snowing off and on today actually…) but I was reminded of something that happened several years ago.

Several years ago, when I was first in my twenties, a new library had opened up near our house. My mother, my sister and I went for the day to get some books and a few other things done (we didn’t have internet at the time). It was raining so hard that the librarians had to turn off the automatic function of the doors into the library because the rain kept setting them off!

I’d never seen it rain so much in my entire life!

I had grown up in a desert that required extensive canal-work in order to make it livable. Luckily for me, the canal system had been put in about 100 years before I was even born, so that work was done already. I hadn’t ever really realized I lived in a desert because there were trees everywhere and though it was always really hot in the summer and we didn’t have a lot of rain, there were plants that wouldn’t have survived on their own initially in a desert.

Half a year before the library doors incident, I’d gone on a very long road trip with my family to California. (One of my sisters was moving there and we all drove her and her stuff out there because it was summer and no one had school. Getting work off was fun, but doable.) I had never seen so much green in one place! That was when it really hit me: I lived in the middle of a desert!

So, fast forward half a year.

It’s raining so hard we’re having flooding everywhere, automatic doors have to be turned off and someone manning them in order to let customers/patrons in and out of the building. You walk outside for one whole minute and when you walk back in, you’re soaked like you jumped into a swimming pool fully clothed. (Which was a funny story, but I’m not talking about it right now. And yes, we actually timed the one minute thing just to be sure.)

I wondered if this was what monsoon season looked like in certain parts of the world.

The reason this story was on my mind was because we had gone to the library to take care of some things and pick up a few books (gardening books are all the rage at my house right now…) and I was reminded of that day so many years ago. The rain yesterday wasn’t even that heavy, it just gave me a small feeling of nostalgia to remember a time when it had rained so hard.

I have never seen it rain that hard since.

Sights and Sounds Bleed Through

The world was incredibly confusing. Every time she looked around the world was turning this way and that. Colors swirled this way and that, different patterns running as fast as a train at full speed, but also as slow turning as thickening caramel.

“Miss Hailey, are you all right?” someone asked.

She didn’t answer, she wasn’t certain that they were even talking to her. Their voice was unfamiliar to her. Well, every voice around her was unfamiliar. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing at this point. If she didn’t know the voice, there was a good chance that it wouldn’t end up with her head in a burlap sack.

The vertigo worsened and she saw the world tilt even more until she felt the cool and uneven texture of whatever was on the floor against her cheek. She pinched her eyes closed and felt hands brush themselves against her face and hair, carefully checking her temperature. They felt as cool and wonderful as the ground against her overheated body as it lay sprawled across the floor.

Several bodies huddled around her for a moment before they were ordered to move away. She closed her eyes once again, nauseated enough to not try and open them again.

The voices continued to speak around her and she tried to shut them out. They made the colors worse, like psychedelic pearls floating away from people’s mouths. how they managed to do this even when her eyes were closed was a mystery, but the pounding in her temples in response was certainly real, not fictional in the least.

She wasn’t certain what had happened next, because the colors and sounds proved to be too much for her. The darkness was a blessing in more ways than one for her at this point.

Written for this week’s FreeWriteFriday:

Also, this type of situation has actually  happened to me. I call it Dr. Seuss Vertigo and it is not pretty. The times it continues before black-out and/or sleep are horrible and not time-able by the person feeling it.

Typical Saturday Morning

I sit here at home and listen to the sound of children as they move about the house. They argue and talk and whine and run about. Cars are banged on, piggy banks are dumped out and all the coins are counted fiercely. One child begs to have a turn on the computer, but he needs someone to log him in. Another refuses to move from their bed, but at least got dressed. The last insists on brushing her hair in the dark in a walk-in closet because she finally knows her way around everything on the floor.

Soon they will start their household chores before running off to the library and spending a day amongst the shelves of computer screens. They will read and wonder and draw and look up things about Minecraft and a million other things before their time runs out.

They will trudge home under a cold, clear Autumn sky and rub their hands together to keep them warm. Once they reach the street they live on, they will bound forward with renewed energy and play with friends available before coming back inside and reading some more. Maybe they will cajole their way into more video game time or perhaps they will hole themselves up in a bedroom and fashion things from legos and other toys before beginning a grand adventure that crosses planets and oceans and the stars without ever leaving the room. Maybe they will draw some more and bring their creations out to hang upon the backdoor with light streaming through.

These children all around me will take random moments in time to stop and make sure that their grandmother and aunt are fine and are they sure they don’t need anything? Their mother is at work and will call to check in just in case because grandmother’s health is shaky and aunt’s memories like to retrograde at random moments. Still, all are welcome within the small home that houses six and two cats.

Of all the things I am grateful for the health and happiness of these children all around me is one the most paramount.

Written for FreeWriteFriday and posted a day late as usual for me. smiles