I have to admit: I enjoy writing my weekly column. It offers the opportunity to vent my spleen about things that annoy me. And, hopefully, things that annoy you, too.
However, I have a confession. I’m not really a grumpy git. In fact, most of my columns are written with my tongue firmly in my cheek.
But not this time. I’m deadly serious here.
The recent ice, wind and rain really brings out all the negative emotions in people. Everywhere I went, people were complaining about the weather. It seems that rain combined with wind and the cold turn us all into moaners and whiners.
But you know what? I have a favourite saying, and whenever somebody starts mumping about something I suggest that: “Every day spent above ground is a good one.”
Think about that.
And that’s why I offer this: one day I will be lying on my death bed. That day is coming, and there is nothing I can do about it. But you know what? I bet when it happens I will be lying there, probably in a warm room, and there will be something I will desperately want to experience – with every part of my being – just one last time.
The feeling of rain on my face.
I’ll be lying there, unable to go anywhere – except the great beyond. And the one thing I will be trying to recall as vividly as possible is the delight of clear drizzle as it runs down my cheeks. The invigorating caress of life-giving water.
So, if you’ll excuse me, it’s raining outside. I’m off to the garden, to turn my face skywards. Just to lock that memory in place.
And I might just jump in a puddle or two.