Normally, after only two days of delicious, life-affirming sunshine, I wouldn't be so enthusiastic about a Mississippi downpour. But, well, I'm quite pleased about this one because I correctly predicted its arrival. Having spent nearly my entire life in California the dramatic changeability of weather here rattles me, like, deep down to my existential core. I do not like that it can be nearly 70 degrees and muggy in the morning and threatening "snow showers" by dinner. Anyway, I hopped out of bed this morning, took a look at the sky and decided I needed to get the yard work done early (a family of earthworms has taken up residence in my compost heap so its really humming along now), did that, then took the dog for a walk.
We ran into a friend in the neighborhood and I pointed out that it was good that we were walking before the sky opened up. She replied, " Really? You think it's going to rain?" with all the diffidence fitting of a person that has spent a lifetime with curly, red hair (which she has). I said I'd give it two hours, tops, with all the confidence of a person that won every schoolyard fight by resorting to biting (which I did). 2:52 pm it began to rain. If I see her again soon I'm going to lord my meteorological skills over her. Because, well, isn't that why people live in small, neighborly towns? In order to be mildly resentful of everyone?
And speaking of clenched jaws, though more in an effort to not burst out laughing, I was walking back to my car after an evening in the Starkville town center when my very best student from last semester toddled up to me with his hiccuping friend, and, with arms open wide, shouted "Hey Alexandra!" I said hey and asked about how he was doing and what his plans were for after he graduated this Spring and part way through a very rambling law school statement of purpose, right about when he also succumbed to hiccups, his eyes got very wide as I imagine he realized how sloshed he was, and, well, he mumbled some overly polite farewell and ran away. There is something so charming about these Mississippi kids. I find it amusing to watch them tie themselves up in knots trying to balance the proper southern manners they've been raised on with the familiarity they reserve for people their age (or that look their age, id est, me). Ah, shucks. Run along now, you cute little scamps.
*I'm trying to get this phrase to catch on. I like that it's folksy in a covered-suburban-mall-and/or-Hampton-Inn kind of way.
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