Day 104. April Showers

… bring May flowers.  Or so it’s said.  I’ve been known to bitch and moan about rain, after about the third or fourth day in a row of getting soaked. Of having to make a run for it.  Of walking around with wet shoes, and wet feet. Which is why, as much as I love Vancouver, beautiful as it is, I think I’d have a hard time living there.  All that rain (and miserable, grey skies) can be very depressing.

But there are times I love the rain.

I had a friend, years ago, whose parents had a cottage up north, in the Laurentian Mountains (about an hour north of Montreal).  I loved their house, because it had a huge screened-in front porch.  It was the size of a living room; and, truth be told, everyone sat there, most of the time.  It had a bluish grey painted hardwood floor, and lots of over-sized, over-stuffed, mis-matched, comfy furniture.

My favourite was a big old iron-framed daybed that was pushed right up against one of the screened windows. Continue reading