Gardening in the rain

I did something this morning that I haven't done before: gardening in the rain. It has its pros and cons. I got something done off my weekend to do list and it was easier to pull weeds because the ground was soft. However, it was lonelier than usual because there were neighbourly sounds around, no birds chirping and my cat didn't join like she normally does. Also, I may have learned something valuable about myself: I'm a tad eccentric. I bundled up and went out when it wasn't really raining and figuring it would ease. It didn't. It got harder and harder. Rather than going in, I stayed out there until my fingers were numb. Not to get the job done (it's never done in the garden – not because mine's huge and cultivated, far from it), just because I like the rain and was optimistic that at any minute it might stop raining. It didn't. I perhaps had hints before that I was eccentric, now that I think about it. I hold conversations with my cat out loud, in public (through my front door as I unlock it); I can't shake the belief that emails with attachments only work if there's text in the body of the email (my students laugh at me); I often don't remember my age because I don't feel any particular number. There, that's some of my weirdness in all its glory.