That fresh rain feeling

There's something about rainy mornings, drinking tea in front of a window to the fresh and gloomy weather, knowing it's spring and listening to Bruce Springsteen's Streets of Philadelphia... The goal of the day is to sit in the library and study study study.

This kind of mornings remind me of the summers of my childhood, those eternally long two and a half months of freedom between each school year. Many a June was like this: rainy, a little cold, and we did not really know what to do with all this free time we suddenly possessed. With my sister we built comfy small huts under tables, coloured picturebooks for hours and listened to cassettes. Favourite hobby was to make up new role plays and games and one great way of spending time was to list all of those up and vote which one we wanted to play next. We each had two votes: one for each hand. Occationally at the end of the long voting process we had been worn out by the overwhelming democracy of our sisterhood and did not play anything at all... Around Christmas I was going through my drawers in my old room at home and found some of the numerous little notebooks filled with these lists, among them poems, small stories, memories, notes, apologies and bursts of childish anger. We were only two but at times the temperament we had could have been enough for at least a couple more.

Now, off to the card shop. A small joy before spending the day with Heidegger and/or metaphysics.