Here Comes the Sun

After days and days of relentless rain, the sun finally shone on my little pocket of the universe. For weeks, it's been nothing but dark skies, driving rain and dampness and dourness all around.  It was as if a humongous faucet had been left open, and we were but a few inches more of rainfall away from national disaster proportions.

Now the sun is up, and everywhere I turn, it's drying-up time.  In yards and on streets are things that can be dried or aired out.  There are rice grains and cacao seeds, laundry, cushions and mattresses, stuffed toys.  My neighbor is up on the roof, sunning himself.  The neighborhood brats--er kids--are out, enjoying the new year's first major sunlight.

I welcome the sun as well.  The rainy days have not been good for my resolve to fit into my old jeans.  Almost a month of finding comfort in (comfort) food and I am already way off my target :p

2011

It's 3 a.m., and I am enjoying the lull. The last of the fireworks has since fizzled, and I am almost sure the dogs are thanking their gods. In a few hours, I would have to deal with the "Tia, Tio maki-New Year" crowd which will no doubt make the rounds of the village. It's a tradition that can be exasperating, but tradition nonetheless.

In keeping with tradition, I spent the better part of yesterday rushing and cleaning.  I don't know, but there's something about leave-takings that always makes me want to empty out the Zonrox. It actually feels good to disinfect, never mind if it stings.

And so, smelling faintly of disinfectant, I greet 2011 with a cup of coffee, a prayer of gratitude for family and friends, and the wish to streamline and be more organized this year. Bob Dylan and I have one common friend: Chaos.

I really, really hope I can break the connection this year :p