When It Rains, I Pour

We’ve had a series of gully-washers for the past few weeks here in the South. For my Northern Friends who may not understand, a gully-washer is usually defined as a short, yet torrential downpour of rain. The term was coined by farmers who experienced the run-off from a large rain washing small “Gullies” in their freshly plowed ground.

I love that phrase along with many other southern colloquialisms, such as (but not limited to): Yonder, Reckon, Ain’t, awe Hell, Shit far, Skeeew Doggy, Hissy fit, Makes as much sense as tits on a bull, That dog’ll hunt, and Well Butter my Butt and Call me a Biscuit.

I love the phraseology of “Gully-Washer”, but I don’t necessarily care for what it stands for. See, when I was a kid I loved the rain because every time it would rain, My Nanny Sue (My Dad’s momma.. she watched me every day while my folks were at work) would get me and put me in her car. We’d drive around Mountain View and she’d get a tire on every puddle she could find. I loved watching the water cascade over her white Buick. It was as close to a wave as I’d see until it was time for family vacation in Florida. As long as I was laughing and smiling, she’d keep driving. She’d drive through those puddles until she wore em dry.

I think about her every time it rains and I see a puddle. What used to make me so happy now fills my heart with sorrow. It’s a happy memory, no doubt, but I’m merely stealing a smile from the past. What I wouldn’t give to have her drive me one more time through that asphalt ocean of joy. She’s been gone over 20 years and thats still the first thing I think of when it rains. I miss her. I always will. img_0347

 

One comment

  1. Ed Stuteville-Boxing God · December 29, 2015

    Reblogged this on Boxing God and commented:
    Follow this guy.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s