Oh, i wouldn't be surprised, if that purple-haired loudmouth had seen her mother - or maybe, a beloved aunt - get pushed around.

The gal had wanted NOTHING to do with anything feminine; twenty years later, still wanting to mock and scoff, at the very idea, of even so much as donning a sundress - let alone, something a little more semi-formal, for a wedding, or an off-site office reception.  Having had put in several hours of coursework - for a real curriculum, that will lead to real money - the later-twenties gal donned her sneaks and went for a brief run.  

She passed a house that, although the yard was kept neat - low hanging branches trimmed - the place obviously needed work; probably more than what the owner could afford.  But whomever lived there, was atleast trying.  A length of PVC pipe, serving as a makeshift downspout - held in place by ... she wasn't really sure, because whatever was securing it, was obscured by a flower bed.  Anyway, the arrangement set off a trigger.  Where she came from, there were no flower beds.  Just junk scattered here and there in a yard of crabgrass, thorns, broken glass and mud.  She had to have been around six or seven, when, one evening, around sunset, her mom said something to her about rain, while trying to jimmy-rig together two short lengths of crinkled spouting - which were really two short to do much good; the set up went barely two feet from the house, when four is suitable.  

"DONT EFF WITH THAT!"  Came that all too familiar bark from the house; where from inside, emitted from a dingy window, a hazy blue light, accompanied by a game show tune - or had it been a news program?  Whatever...same difference.  Additionally, from inside one of the torn screens, came that vile smell; she even recalled - from atleast one of the quarrels, $65 - about what a quarter of an ounce had been selling for.  Whatever the amount, it was going for presently, like then, it resulted in basements getting wet and dank, because  ... well, because rain happens.  

Already having gone about two miles, the clouds in the east were darkening; she'd be finishing up in the downpour.  But that wasn't a problem.  In fact, there was something about rain, and wind ... she liked running in the weather, even coming in all wet and chill.  Perhaps, a reaction to her earlier years, hearing that same old blasphemous bark about rain in the forecast.   She'd never been religious, but dragging God into things that weren't his fault?   "But the farmers like..." the innocent little observation had gotten her a swollen lip.   

About a half mile outside of her property, the rain came in sheets; her gym pants and sweatshirt took on a modest lake's worth.  Ahead, a section of road had turned into a creek.  She ran to, and jumped into the deepest part, stirring up leaves, gravel - and litter...which probably was clogging up the drain pipe, which the township had out in a few years ago - shortly after she'd bought her house.  Wow, must be a whole foot!  Down the road a bit, another creek.

She was six or seven again.  But this time, she'd come in out of the rain to a neat, peaceful house.   Well, then again, not completely peaceful :)  There was a bit of barking that went on - from Pepper, her dog.

"I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard, of the man void of understanding; and, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down."

Proverbs 24:30-31