Spring Showers

About ten days ago, the sun was shining and it was warm. I took stock of my spring wardrobe and decided that I was missing two crucial pieces of spring equipment. First, I needed a trench coat. No, I'm not planning a new career in flashing unsuspecting passers-by (passer-bys? passer-bies?). Instead, I've learned that the downtown area of Big City is a giant wind-tunnel. On rainy days, this means that an umbrella is completely useless. Even Rihanna's magic um-ber-el-la-a-a-a-a couldn't keep you dry on rainy days downtown.


So, I took myself shopping - and met with some success. I returned home with a classic trench, updated for today's spring shopper. OK, yes, I had my choice of the newest spring colors, including ice blue, mint green, Peptobismol pink, and some cheerful prints. I considered those choices, but none could out-shout my mother's voice in my head: "You'll get a lot more use out of khaki, won't you?" Bowing to internal pressure, I chose the classic khaki trench, hoping against hope that I wouldn't look too much like Inspector Gadget.


Now, I was all set - though I'll admit that I hoped I wouldn't need my new trench and umbrella. I don't like rainy days, especially when I'm downtown and especially when I have to teach. Rain makes my hair do strange and wonderous things - and not in a good way. And, the addition of an um-ber-el-la-a-a-a-a exponentially complicates the delicate balancing act I perform, looking more like a pack mule than a professor as I shuffle between classes.



But - as luck would have it, the gods knew that I got a new trench and voila - Rain! Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. Rain for the past 5 days. For those unfamiliar with the concept, here's a picture. Wet ground, gray skies, mud, etc. I understand there's flooding in the nearby surrounds. My apartment sits high upon a hill, on the 3rd floor, so I'm safe from rising waters. All I need to do is close my windows and doors and I can no longer hear the cries of my wet and soggy neighbors. Today, we've been treated to the cacophony of thunder and streaks of lightening (in the opposite order, of course.)



While I recognize that we need the rain, and while I recognize that I may have contributed to the rain when I bought a raincoat, and if it's not going to start raining men, I'd humbly like to ask for a chance to enjoy my other spring purchase:

I'm also looking forward to clear skies, when we can all enjoy the newly green landscape.