Time to walk Tango! A light rain falls outside, meaning I should probably wait until later. However, I am feeling quite quirky lately. Last night I lounged on the deck in my zero-gravity chair while mindlessly staring at the stars and satellites for hours. So, why not take a walk in the rain? Yes,

At first I felt a light misty rain, the type I imagine falling in the soggy northwest. Then, a heavier rain started, which deposited big wet drops on our hair/fur. I looked down at Tango and he looked up at me. We concurred in those looks that we would keep going. After 1/2 mile, I could tell that my hair hung down straight. Tango had that shabby wet dog look–and smell. Both of us a shaggy mess. Eventually we reached the school track where I took him off he leash, and we knocked off a few laps. We both enjoyed the rain. It was refreshing, cleansing. La la la, like dancing in the rain. Refreshing, invigorating, quirky, where quirky is equal to spontaneity and letting go for a change. Deep Breath.

Rain continued as we walked home. A few people drove past us and waved. One appeared unsure if someone was really walking out in the rain, and he ran the windshield wipers at top speed to get a better look. Wave! Wave back at ya! Then, home.

Stinky Tango needed a bath so I led him into the house and straight to the bathtub. Scrubby bubbles. He tolerated the running water noise only because I massaged his back, chest, legs, and belly first. Yuummm. Then, I toweled him off and cleaned out the tub, which was due for a swabbing anyway. Next, I filled the tub with warm bubbles and slid in. I washed off the musty rain smell and emerge renewed after a long soak.

Indulging myself. Letting the quirky side run wild. It is a part of aging that I treasure.