They run and hide their heads

As I sit here typing on a Thursday afternoon, I am enjoying hearing an old Jack Benny radio show in which Jack is talking about his trip to Scotland, and also enjoying hearing the soft sweet sounds of rain on the roof.

I once met a man from Scotland, a soccer player here to play for the Blast, and he told me that in his hometown of Edinburgh, it rained every day.  Not all day, of course, but even on the sunny days, you could count on it raining at some point.

"O'er a' the ills o' life victorious!'' -
Robert Burns

This might account for why Scotland is awash in verdant green lush landscapes.  It rains.  It has to rain for plant life to survive.  We all know that, but yet...

 Cocoa doormat

It doesn't seem like it has rained around here since right after the Fourth of July.  By late September, it had been a month since the guy who cuts our lawn had cut our lawn.  Speaking of our lawn, I was thinking of cutting it into rectangles and selling it for doormats - the kind that you can scrape your shoes off with.

We got a little bitty storm the other day; the weather people had called for a good amount of rain but we only had an hour's worth.  But last night a cold front came in and brought with it breezes, chilly air, and rain. Glorious rain.  Sweet, wet, life-giving rain, the gift of Heaven.  You could hear the lawns gulping it up, the reservoirs filling up and the late summer crops (Swiss chard -the kind with holes in it - kale and broccoli) enjoying the shower.

That Mayhem jerk

So, of course I turned on the morning TV news so I could hear the traffic reporter say there were so many accidents that she couldn't even think of mentioning them all.  This is because of the legions of people who only drive when it rains, and then they drive like that Mayhem jerk in the commercials.  Bang zoom.

Rainy Day Anchor Face

And then came the complaints!  The anchor teams have to put on the sad puppy faces and deliver the bad news.  Yes, folks, the unspeakable has happened, and you might just have to dust off the umbrellas before venturing out into the mean mean world.  They give you the sad eyes and then the weather guy comes out and finalizes the tragedy by saying it might rain tomorrow, too.  In the news segment, we see pistols and cyanide tablets being distributed for the convenience of those who just cannot face another day of clear liquid hell.

Somewhere along the way, after we came to this new land and settled it, winning battles against invaders, wild animals and disease, we became so wussified that just a little rain throws us into an unbeatable tailspin.

Let's see if we can't all face this new watery world with a minimum of moaning.  After all, wasn't it Little Awful Annie who sang, "The sun'll come out the day after tomorrow, or Sunday at the latest!" ?