It’s a dark, moist sort of day. The deck is damp, but yesterday it was super moist. As in a Winnie the Pooh book, “The rain, rain, rain came down, down, down.”
It happened when I went grocery shopping. Everything was fine as I went into the store. The forecast had said we might have sprinkles. But, when I started to leave the store with a cart full of groceries, the clouds had lowered and opened up. It wasn’t sprinkles; it was a downpour!
What to do? Should I wait with a couple of other shoppers who were looking out of the door at their dim and distant cars? Should I just brave the elements and splash through anyway? I looked at my groceries and they looked back at me. Switching a few packages into another sack, I pulled the empty plastic bag out and put it over my head, only my face showing. Then, I stepped bravely through the door, and dashed into the onslaught. When I reached my car, I was soaked, thoroughly. In fact, I was drenched, a little more than moist. Except, of course, for my hair. The groceries, being in plastic sacks, faired much better.
Safely back home, I grabbed a towel and dried off. I was freezing! In a dry pair of jeans and shirt, I unloaded groceries and noticed the one casualty was a cake mix. I laughed as I read the label. “A very moist cake.” Well, yesterday, it was certainly that! The card board box was pretty limp.
But this morning, all is well. I’ve taken freshly-baked blueberry streussel muffins from the oven, the Folgers coffee is strong and hot, and I’m ready for another moist day.
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