My memories of most welcome ’fun- rain’
are the ones from the time when we lived in that small village Hallwangen
amongst the farmers.
As the cows and oxen pulled their heavy laden carts through the village on the paved main road, they always left these large flat pancake shaped poos behind. The hot tar baked it quickly and when a summer shower started dripping cool rain, the sun -baked pancakes let some steam into the air. My friend Rosa and I would quickly kick our shoes off, run out to the street and start hopping from one cake into the other. Squish and squash and laughter and giggles and this velvety soft and warm feeling around our feet. What a gift! Hurray.
As the cows and oxen pulled their heavy laden carts through the village on the paved main road, they always left these large flat pancake shaped poos behind. The hot tar baked it quickly and when a summer shower started dripping cool rain, the sun -baked pancakes let some steam into the air. My friend Rosa and I would quickly kick our shoes off, run out to the street and start hopping from one cake into the other. Squish and squash and laughter and giggles and this velvety soft and warm feeling around our feet. What a gift! Hurray.
