It's raining on the mountain now, my love.

Today is my last full day of freshman year. I'm not sure what to think. Sure, home will be exciting, but leaving this places where so many memories have taken place, well, being the nostalgic fool I am, this will be extra difficult. It baffles me as I thnk about the times when I wasn't sure how this place could ever be home. Surprise. So, yes, I'm feeling a bit melancholy.

I was just dinging around in my room this morning, when a spectacular clap of thunder jolted me out of my sleepy state. It was absolutely pouring out. Oh, storms! How I adore ye! I made some hot chocolate, and read in my Blue Like Jazz book while sitting the in windowsill, watching the poor families in the parking lot moving their kids' stuff out in this drippy mess. Thankfully, I am moving out tomorrow, which is supposed to be lovely. And as I was sitting there, I listened to this random old-old-oldies station i just happened upon, and they played three songs in a row about rain. Yes, they're local.

I am so near to being done, it's scary. I just have to finish Rachel's portrait for my drawing final tonight, and I am as free as air.

These last weeks seem surreal. A lot has happened, but I barely remember it all. Linus and Co. came to visit my chums and I here on the river flats, which was pleasant. I went home a few times, to hang out, and to work. I made petit-fours with my French project partner, Chelsea, which was very funny. Cooking at school is downright ridiculous. I will be so glad to have our own kitchen next year.

Ok, this is about the 5th song in a row they've played about rain on this station. Someone is feeling literal.

Oh man, by this time tomorrow, I will be packing to go home. Ugh, I am just not sure what to think of that.I mean, yeah, sure, I am excited! Absolutely! I just can't let go of things easily.

Perhaps I should think about jotting down another list of what I want to do when I go home. Ok.

-have picnics

-bike!

-play with dog(inevitable)

-do art. a lot.

-upcycle something

-READ

-watch movies. a rare treat.

ooook. Now the DJ on this station is singing "It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo'" in his dorky Midwest accent. Sound more I "It Ain't Gonna Rai. No,Moe." And there is somehow a banjo in the background.

This music would be perfect if I was sitting on my rickety front porch under a tin roof, in a crudely carved wooden rocking chair somewhere in the Ozark Mountains. And I would wear one of those big floppy hats, cuss through my gap-toothed face, and blow smoke rings out of my ears. I would sip just my cup o' joe, and go on in the shanty to fry up some eggs and salt pork on the griddle. I'd hike up my overalls, put on my boots, and me and my coonhounds would take us a stroll through the rainy fors't and check on the trapline. We'd mosey down the crick, eat some crawdads, an' go'on back to the shack an' wartch the light rain warsh the winders.

That is how rain should be enjoyed.

I used to go down the the Lake of the Ozarks in southern Missouri with my family almost ever year when my grandparents used to live there. Now my aunt and uncle live on the lake, and I am determined to go pay them a visit, and mosey into Arkansas to see the green, glowing mountains. I think that'd be nice.

Well, I should mosey on down for lunch. Got some werk to git dun.

Cheers.

Song of the Day:

It's Rainin' on the Mountain Now, My Love by some happy hick.