It’s been raining a lot lately. Not just in terms of time, but in terms of volume. It’s been pouring rain for what seems like weeks. And it’s been windy too. We left the bedroom window open a couple of days ago and we had to move the dresser to get to the soggy carpet. I had to roll over the bed with the towels then squeeze between the long dresser and the wall. We caught it early so the carpet dried quite quickly but we had to keep the window closed all night. I love to have a window open all the time in the bedroom but with torrential rain being lashed by the rough wind, we had to close it or risk having it torn off during the night. As I occasionally feel the need to throw off the covers several times a night to let the air coming in through the window cool my body, I found it hard to sleep that night. Not only because it was warm in our room but because the rain was quite noisy on the window in the howling wind. It’s dark now but earlier in the day it was raining so hard I could barely see through the windows. I felt sorry for the person who delivered our take-out dinner. He must have been soaked running from the car to our door with our food. Dale tipped him well.

I find it hard to do much when it’s rainy all the time but I try to get out. I have a lovely new umbrella with van Gogh’s irises and sunflowers on it. It is a sturdy umbrella that can withstand the wind. I also have a pair of lined rubber boots. They are perfect for the wet, cold winters of the coast. I recently bought a bright pink, although it can look purple in some lights, raincoat. It is completely waterproof, not like the two fashion raincoats that I have. Even with all that protection, when it’s raining I want to cuddle up on the couch, turn on the fireplace and sit all day, drinking tea and reading. Or playing games on my iPad. Or watching TV. I want to hole up like a hermit and wait for the sun.

But I can’t. If I did that, then from November until April I wouldn’t leave the house. So every day, I convince myself to get outside. Sometimes I put my wallet, phone, glasses and keys in my little purse, or in my pockets, and I grab some cloth bags and head out. I go to the local food stores and bakeries and look for inspiration for dinner. I try to find something to make me feel like it’s not dreary outside. I look for fresh herbs to cook with, or fruit to put into a spring salad – anything that tastes of sun. I smell tomatoes to see if they smell like tomatoes yet. I squeeze avocados to check if fresh guacamole is a possibility. Sometimes I get into my little Bug and drive to a shop, to see the spring fashions, to find something to brighten my day and my mood. I don’t usually find anything, but at least I’ve been off the couch for a while.

We knew coming back to the coast of BC meant coming back to rain but this late winter seems worse than usual. Maybe it’s because in the past this is the time of year when we would have headed south for a hit of sun. For several years in a row we spent a week in late February or early March in Mexico. We didn’t get there last year because Dale had just started his new job and we couldn’t ask for holidays in his first month. This year other things got in the way – unexpected bills, the theatre, keeping holidays for the summer. The bottom line is unless the sun starts shining soon, the only way we’re getting vitamin D is in gelcaps.

So, we’ve decided to embrace the wet, windy, west coast end-of-winter. We’re going to the very west west coast, to Tofino and Ucluelet. We’re going to put on our raingear and head out to walk the windy beaches. We’re going to listen to the crashing waves as we sit in the hot tub on the deck of our cabin. We’re going to ride our bikes along the trails, the raindrops dripping from the cedars onto our shoulders. We’re going to sit inside cozy restaurants supping on fresh seafood and sipping fine spirits as we look through rain-spattered windows. There is invigoration in the fresh salt air and we are literally going to soak it all in.

The sun will shine again, some day, and if you hear me complaining about the heat, slap me and remind me of this February and March.