It’s raining. Only it is gorgeous grey blue summer rain that makes everything look greener and everything smells like flowers. Usually the city smells like a hobo’s mattress. Because um.. it is a big hobo mattress I suppose.
I had to have an excuse to go for a walk in the rain. So I decided that I would make use of the strawberry rhubarb compote B-Bot and I made a few days ago to make a dessert. A dessert that would require tremendous amounts of whipped cream. Pants went on and I went out!
I walked down to the closest corner store. On the way there I passed a black man dressed all in white with aviator glasses who stopped to pick up an old water bottle off the ground and throw it away. I thought that was an odd thing to do, in the rain. Stop to pick up litter. You never see anyone in the city do that. It made me smile. No luck for whipped cream at the shop, which I was secretly happy for because it meant a longer, wetter trek.
The sides of the road had turned into tiny rivers. Rivulets of water carried bubbles along into the sewer grates. Over head I could make out the impressions of 3 seagulls hundreds of feet above. Keeping an eye on things. I noticed no one looked unhappy to be out getting soaked. I passed by the post office box and felt a pang of sadness at not bringing a postcard to quickly scribble on and toss over to New Zealand.
At my favourite convenience store I bought a wee whipping cream and the most orange of all oranges. I walked back home slowly, soaking wet, with an orange in my hand. I was tempted to steal roses from outside the church on the corner because the hot pink of them went with my orange so well. But I resisted. Like Jesus resisted temptation. I think that’s a movie, anyway.
At the intersection two large ladies in floral skirts held plastic garbage bags against their heads. I never understood why ladies can be completely soaked but damn it all if their hair gets damp. There was a plaid clad fellow reeking of student, standing sullenly strapped to an ipod. I watched him watch this lovely Korean lady jog by. He looked slightly less sullen. Sometimes when Im allowed out in the world I like to take a situation like.. being on a bus or at an intersection. And imagine being in a catastrophe and these are the people I am stuck with. Like an episode of Lost with less polar bears and way way more Jacks. Boring. I try to pick out who I would eat first. The sullen student looked like he’d taste gamey.
Now I am home and in the oven are big fat pillows of meringue getting nice and hard and crunchy for dessert later. I dont have 3 hours to wait so Im cooking them at a high temperature. Right now they are a soft brown and the apartment smells like caramel.