I live at the North Pole.  It rains, but should be snowing.  I know this because my fingers and toes and tip of my nose tell me so.  It’s cooold.

When it rains, my days get a little less busy and a little more sitty.  Reading, editing, crocheting, more reading.  And… daydreaming.

Daydreaming about use-to-be-days.  About what-it-would-be-like days.  About just-ahead days.

It use to be that Bill would call me to our loveseat just to listen to the rain.  No other reason.  We listened and listened.  Which led to, I’m sorry about my attitude.  Will you come with me today?  I love you, I’m so glad you’re mine.

What would it be like for us to loveseat together just to listen to the rain today?  No other reason.  Just listen and listen.  Which would lead to, do you like the family room now?  Let’s get you a new grandpa chair.  I love you, I’m so glad you’re here.

Will there be a friend to listen to the rain with me just ahead?  Someone who sits and listens to the sound of rain?  Which might lead to a warm heart-to-heart.

Rain rains sentiment and nostalgia and a few teardrops on me.  I spend some daydreaming moments sitting, wondering and listening.

It’s cold, but warm here.