Rain on My Parade, I Dare You

About four or five people have mentioned today about the "terrible" weather and how much they "hate" rain. I end up making vaguely agreeable comments, because the truth is, I like this kind of weather. I like it even when I can't curl up under warm covers with warm food and a movie*, although I LOVE that. I like waking up and listening to the sound the rain makes on the tin door set into the drive that leads into the basement, and how it makes harmony with the rain on the roof. I like falling asleep to that sound, one of the most soothing lullabies around. I like stepping out of the car like a movie star with an umbrella...you know, that move where you stick the umbrella out first and open it and then get out under it...and then being all smug and walking to my destination, like HA I have an umbrella! It is raining and I am (mostly) dry! How cool is that! Even in sneakers and ratty jeans, it puts a little swing in my step (in my mind, in the rain, it's heels and a flared skirt). I like the sound the rain makes on the umbrella. I even, secretly, although I wouldn't admit it out loud (because I like complaining), like it when I have to go places by myself in it, when that means arriving at my destination completely soaked with a squeaky bike. I like how washing dishes is more fun in the rain when it means plunging chilly fingers into warm water and watching raindrops chase each other across the window. I like how the light in my room becomes all dim and blue tinged. I like the rain.






**One of the few times I'll voluntarily watch a chick flick is rainy spring and autumn afternoons...although I won't bend enough to watch anything made before, oh, 1965. But I will take a little classic Audrey or Katharine Hepburn