“WEATHER for ducks” my mother would have called this cold snap . Pelting rain (hooray), freezing cold and snow not too far away.
While the ducks may enjoy waddling through the puddles and the mud, most of us would rather stay indoors with a lovely fire or heater and a glass or two of a good red. I love this weather but I do appreciate that I am privileged if I am able to love incessant rain and plummeting temperatures.
There are many in this country who do not have the privilege of a warm, cosy, dry house. I got to thinking about this when a FB post from a friend said she could not enjoy her warm bed and toasty cottage because she kept on thinking about the mothers in informal settlements trying as best they could to keep their children warm and dry as the rain came down and icy water seeped into the shelter.
I understood where she was coming from but I do not believe one should not enjoy the fruits of one’s labour, as long as we acknowledge that we are privileged and be prepared to pay it forward. Give generously where and when you can, and, above all, count your blessings.
It is all very well to sprout homilies and pithy sayings, but it is action which speaks louder than words. So as I sit here in my comfy chair with gas heater blazing I will acknowledge that I am blessed, starting with the drive home tonight.
On the way home from work in the dark I drove through a very large, deep pool of water caused by a blocked storm water drain in Escom Rd. Stupid, I know. It was very dark and visibility poor. I didn’t see the water until my little car was chugging through it. As it got deeper my car began to cough and splutter. I begged it not to cut out, not here in the rain and cold in the middle of an intersection in a particularly dodgy area in the dark of night. And what a champion she was, we swam through the mini flood and out on to solid ground and I was safe for the moment. Phew! That was a blessing. Finally home, to be greeted by damp dogs and a soggy cat, I turned on the gas heater and my pets counted their blessings – an indulgent human.
These pets, two dogs and a cat, all but one geriatric old men, are a blessing too. They understand my every word and love me no matter what. “Be the human your dog thinks you are,” is one of those FB posts that struck a cord. I will try but it’s hard sometimes.
Counting my blessings after the first watery awakening I am thankful for my home, a warm bed, enough bedding to keep out the chill, and I am thankful for the rain. There is a hope that this is a forerunner of the spring rains so eagerly anticipated and that all this water is flowing into our rivers and dams and water rationing is not on the horizon, come summer.
I am also thankful that I have a bucket to catch the drips from a leak newly sprung in the laundry roof and that the drip is not positioned over my head.
Above all, I am thankful that I am alive and still active enough to enjoy the small things which add the layers and nuances of a life worth living.