August 5, 2018 – Puddle walking

         Is there anything more carefree or delightful that walking in a puddle?  For me it has the same attraction as walking in the ocean surf on a secluded beach.

         But, this was last week and it was in Fred’s parking lot.  Yes, one of those discount chain stores.  When I need a box of Borax, I go to Fred’s.  The walk to the Borax and back to my car is 1/12^th of the walk than going into the Super WalMart.  [I am not the only one who doesn’t care for the ½ mile hike each way shopping at the local WalMart.]

         But, again, I started at the wrong place in this tale.  I am still recovering from a pulled Hamstring and I am literally counting the steps or the minutes I am walking or standing on this left leg.  I want it to heal, not flare up every other day.  So, I am pre-calculating my distance of walking until I am healed.

         It was sunny when I left home and when I arrived at the store.  We have had these afternoons of pop-up storms consisting of heavy rains that come on as a flash and leave just as quickly. On the way into Fred’s I noticed a 30% off sale on some cobalt blue plastic Adirondack chairs.  I was in need of a pair to replace a pair that had seen better days and one that was actually broken at the arm.  The store personnel unlocked them and took a pair in for me while I shopped.

         I limped around the store, trying not to overdo it and arrived at the cash register with my half a dozen items and as I was checking out the storm hit.  I couldn’t even see my car in the parking lot and it was parked pretty close.

         I’d have to wait until the storm passed as I intended on taking the two chairs with me.  Fred’s has a little bonus not known to my husband, but they have a little freezer toward the front of the building after you check out that has ice cream bars and the like.  I found a “Klondike ice cream bar” and paid for it.  Then I un-nested the chairs I had purchased and plunked myself down to wait out the storm eating my Klondike bar.  [One thing about living in rural America – you can do this sort of thing and no one questions it.  I can’t imagine ever doing that in Charlotte or Boston shopping.]

         Another customer stood and waited as I munched on my ice cream.  We chatted.  He too was thinking about waiting out the storm.  Ten minutes rolled into twenty minutes and the storm was dissipating – not a deluge now, but a normal rain.  He slipped out into the rain along with a few more customers.

         I was just about to run out to the car and drive it up close to the door in order to retrieve my chairs when I realized I had on a brand new pair of all leather shoes that had cost me dearly.  The parking lot was a raging river now lapping the store curb.

         Earlier when I parked my car, I did not see any coins or any glass or actually any litter on the way in. Common sense told me I wouldn't get hurt going barefoot to my car only a short distance away. I pulled off my new leather flats, shoved them in one of the two shopping bags, and dashed out to my car.

         OH – what a surprise!  The puddles were warm. The rain had absorbed the afternoon heat from the hot tar.  How absolutely delightful!

The puddles were deep, six to eight inches in places and rushing around my ankles – making my ankle length capris sopping wet half way up to my knees as I splashed to my car.  I own a big car, a decade old Lincoln and I’ve shoved huge items into my back seat on many occasions. That was the plan for my chairs.

         I pulled my car close to the curb and jumped out.  I opened my back door and I was surprised that I could not get even one of the Adirondack chairs into the back sheet.  It was drizzling now, so I popped the trunk and even then, I couldn’t get the nested pair into the trunk and close the trunk lid.

         I had to allow the chairs to hang out of the trunk and pulled the lid down as much as I could.  As I started out, I wasn’t concerned about a little bit of drizzle.  It would dry out.

         But, about a mile from the store and still about 4 miles from home, another squall – another deluge of rain came down so hard I had to put my wipers on ultra-fast to even see where I was driving.  I had to crawl home in the heavy rain with the trunk lid ajar about 6 inches.

         Not wanting to put my shoes on wet feet, I drove barefoot.  When I got home, I had no choice but to put on my shoes, wet feet or not, as I have a crushed stone driveway that I can’t walk on barefooted.  I tugged on my shoes, jumped out of the car, pulled the pair of chairs out of the trunk leaving them in the driveway, and quickly closed the trunk.  I was surprised there wasn’t a pond in my trunk; in fact, it looked almost dry.

         I rushed into the house and stuffed crumpled up grocery bags in my new shoes so they could dry properly.

         All afternoon I had a lingering smile as it rained and rained and rained.  It had been a long time since I’d walked in puddles. In puddles so deliciously warm and so deliciously deep.

         When I was a child, I’d love to walk after a rain from my house down to Germains, where there would even be swirls of sand in the puddles. Of course, I’d take care not to be caught by my Mom or Mrs. Germain.

         I need to puddle walk again and soon – what a delightful country pleasure I’d forgotten all about.

You too, should try it.