Have I mentioned lately that I actually really enjoy the rain?
Though, I must admit, not when I’m trying to set up camp and I’m cold and wet and getting to be miserable because I am cold and wet and the damned rope for the tarp will not go high enough, and the rain is trickling down my sleeve….
But when I’m cosy inside my tent (or room) and here it tapping (pounding) against the tarp over my tent (or bedroom window) I feel safe. Secure.
I’m reminded of countless nights at home, growing up. My bed in the dormer that created most of the space in my room, the rain pelting the cedar shakes of the roof and tapping against the window, making that sound that only water against glass can make. I’m in bed, with the multiple old Queen-sized blankets that I loved on my twin bed. (Mum never understood my love affair with oversized blankets. Still doesn’t, but I love have blankets big enough to roll myself up in.) I would have been reading, with the lamp on. The cat may have been curled up at the end of my bed, maybe not. The house is quiet, and finally, the day is at peace. No one is yelling (A Several-Times-a-Day occurence once I got to high school), no one is asking/telling me to do something when I’m already busy doing another chore. I’m off in my own world, escaped into the realm of whatever book I’m reading.
I also love reading, which is good, as I have a metric [expletive]-tonne of reading this semester. I’m reading Johnny Got His Gun for American History, Heart of Darkness and the Congo Diary for European History as well as for my EngLit class. And for English Lit, I’m reading Heart/Darkness and C.Diaries and Mrs Dalloway, plus various other pieces.
Not to mention all the articles/primary resources for my history seminars.
Which means my fun reading isn’t going to happen much. I’m halfway through The House at Riverton which is superbly written thus far. It’s by Kate Morton, she’s written a few books. I read Her Fearful Symmetry mostly because I loved the line in Blake’s Tiger, Tiger. And Symmetry does not disappoint at all. Better than The Forgotten Garden, also by Morton. So good. Ms Morton is definitely a good read if you like a good twist, and multi-generational characters and plot lines that are complex and interesting.
I’m also halfway through The Guardian of Paradise about a women in the late 40s in Newfoundland, and her struggles with being an outcast in society, but she created her outcast status. It’s hard to explain, and nothing really happens, it’s sort of like a Victorian novel that way, but it’s very good. There is… a strange character that isn’t in the story often, but it almost revolves around them… Again, I recommend it.
It’s also one of the few books I’ve picked up by a male author. I’ve noticed I read a lot of books written by women.
Classes started this week, and I’ve got the three classes. I tell myself every semester that I’m going to do better this time than I did last time. And sometimes I do actually do better, but usually by the end of the semester, I’m so frazzeled that I can barely drag myself to the seminar, and you can be sure I’ve only skimmed a couple of the articles.
So, hopefully, I’ll get on top of that this term and fully read at least one of the articles for every class. :p
It seems like a good song for this rainy night. Jaime Cullum is a very talented young man.
I hope your rainy evenings can be filled with good memories, or at least a security in the knowledge of being warm and dry while the outside is decidedly not.