Rain rain go away oh what the hell you can stay

The rain doesn't stop. Sometimes it slows to a drizzle or even a light misting, but then it cranks up again into an all-out pounding water extravaganza. They have a saying here, filled with irony, that it rains "Agua. De arriba para abajo." Like, water, from above falling down. A master-of-the-obvious sort of statement, but the ironic meaning behind it is "like cats and dogs." Its been going on since that moment the other day when the cloudbanks first decided to dump their load on us. The dry season lasted so much longer this year than usual, with hot days and balmy warm nights, that somehow I forgot what the rainy season was like. I forgot how dramatically the temperature suddenly drops - I'm digging around in my drawers for long sleeve shirts and warm sweaters. I even was out of bed in the middle of the night hunting for winter pajamas in the dark when I got to shivering under the sheets. I also forgot what a pain in the arse my housekeeping becomes. Having my kitchen sink outside becomes an extra trial, as I'm hurriedly scrubbing off plates in the peripheral spray of the rain. The dishes I leave in the sink are extra dirty, filled with dead bugs that blew in on the storm, caked with dirt and leaves from a passing gust of rainy wind. This year at least I have a laundry line strung in my studio, which avoids the trouble of past years, where my laundry would get soaked about as soon as I'd hang it out, and I'd have to rewash it all again (and that was back in pre-washer days when I was still washing all our laundry by hand).

My biggest annoyance with rainy season housekeeping is the constant mopping of floors that is required. I used to dream of tile floors when I lived in California, thinking them so fashionable and aesthetically pleasing. That was before I actually had them. Mine are particularly unforgiving - while a lovely brick red colonial color, they're smooth, glossy and solid colored - so basically every speck of dust and mud shows up on them instantly like a glaring flaw in my housewifely tidyness capabilities. But shit, I'd have to carry a mop (its actually a big squeegee with a rag draped over it - way more effective against streaking than a plain old mop) everywhere and trail around after people, after my own every step, to keep it clean. Anyway, with my kitchen sink outside and having to go out for every little thing, for water, to clean up after baby, and with the rain mucking up the path between my front door and the sink, you can imagine how much of that wet crap I track back into the house every couple of minutes. Its a never ending battle with the effects of rain. So while we're all hoohaw happy about having rain because the grass is already almost instantly surreal bright green and our lime tree is actually finally growing, my inner housewife is not stoked.