Why didn't anyone tell me it rains a lot in the Pacific Northwest? I thought all of these green trees and pastures that we are surrounded by were the result of water shipped in from the Rocky Mountains, hundreds of miles away. My friends have betrayed me. Someone out there could have given me the heads up that winter here entails days, weeks, months of rainy days. How was I supposed to know?
And as my family is from southern California, we're not going with the flow of this incessant water from the sky. The least little sprinkle sends us running to: 1. turn up the heater 2. hide under a mountain of blankets 3. refuse to come out until the insanity is over.
These poor locals here have water soaking their brain. Their temperature gauge is wildly miscued. While I maintain a thick, long, water proof coat from December until May, they prance around in t-shirts. Do they not know that 50 degrees F. is the level in which frost bite can saw off limbs? What is wrong with these people?
But the great thing about us being packed together from our fear of chill, is that we are closer as a family unit. My teenage sons are able to bicker and argue to their heart's content. And the subjects are always provocative and profound: from who ate the last veggie chicken pattie to whether or not we should play Pictionary. Don't even get me started on the joy of discovering who stole the last bag of caramel filled chocolate chips.
The boys and I often gaze out the window at the crazy people walking their dogs in the rain. It would be laughable, but what about those poor dogs? Don't they know that water has been known to melt the fur off even the shaggiest creature?
We are kept busy though, with cleaning the floors from puppy Daisy's romps in the back yard mud puddles. What more could we offer to a new dog than mud to play in? Right out the doggie door. What more could she ask for? And old dog Sydney receives mind stimulation in her attempt to not fall down in the slippery grass. Our dogs have it all here.
The only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that our hometown has been experiencing torrential rains and flooding this year. Is it mean that I sit back and chuckle at their inability to bring about rain as a constant practice, and not as a major dump-out from above? I mean, at least we aren't that bad. Besides, it serves them right for not warning me about the months of rain here.
As I sit back, sip hot cocoa and munch warm popcorn, I guess I should be at peace. My children have a safe, dry place to argue about meaningless subjects. Friends back home are facing floods as revenge for not instructing me on the laws of Mother Nature. The dogs are thriving in muddy mind games.
And, in all seriousness, I am thankful that our family has a warm, dry safe home in which to watch the beautiful rain from our windows. Oh, and that heaters were invented!
Betrayed Rain Victim