Relics of the Past

Oh blog world! Can I ever be forgiven for my frequent absences?

I am so sorry for my recent hiatus. I want to thank certain posters for sending me lovely comments and e-mails regarding my whereabouts. Suffice to say that to fill you in on all the sordid (read: relatively boring) details of my life since June would basically be a bullet point list. I don't believe that this type of post would get me back in your good graces. Perhaps later on in future posts. But right now, there's only one thing I want to talk about.

The buried swing set.

Let me step back for one minute and explain. After moving in April, our house had some interesting quirks. Something I never mentioned on this blog was that our backyard was a veritable trash heap of items that were left by the previous tenant.

In the month of April, we hauled away a complete weight set and freestanding pull up bar, four tires, a dilapidated dirt bike, six garbage bags full of various trash, a rusted out iron headboard, two road signs, a mold sodden mattress, three full paint cans, ant-encrusted wallet with ID and credit card and oh dear god so much more. If the previous tenant had been one of the Clampetts, she would have been living in high style.

Spoiler alert. I live in Connecticut, not the alligator backwater of the 1950's deep south. And the negligent biatch who lived in my house before was certainly not a Beverly Hillbilly.

So it came as no surprise to me that while clearing a path for the Wall dog's electric doggie fence I found some more lovely treasure.

Yep. The swing set.

Tromping around in flip flops in the woods is not a good idea. Especially not when you partially impale a flop on a shard of rusted monkey bar. Thankfully the metal only bit the plastic sole, and not my vulnerable flesh. So instead of screaming to the doctor in a tetanus-panic-fear, I stood back and began to yank the offender out of the damp ground. What eventually materialized was a pink and burgundy swing set, complete with requisite slide.

Oddly enough. during my hiatus from blogging, my mind strayed towards the swing set. Once the source of so much joy and adventure, now a forgotten relic exiled beyond my property line. Perhaps someday it will be resurrected, only to be curiously mulled over and quickly reburied.

I don't want the fate of the swing set to befall my blog. If I do nothing, 'Rainey With A Chance of Sunshine' will be relegated to the annals of internet memory, only to be dragged out in tangentially related google searches for....well...for the eternity of mankind. Because that's how the Internet works. Nothing ever dies. See here. Embarrassing? Yes. Makes my point? Also yes.

So here I am. Dragging my somewhat rusty blog out, trying to fill in the gaps and oil the joints to make it functional again. A place where I can continue to play with words, scrape out the crazy from my brain and document it here for all to see and muse over. In a more current and up-to-date fashion.

So as I have too much respect for this blog to let it end up like my high school website, here I am.