It’s pretty pathetic when, upon glancing through the window and seeing water falling from the sky, you 1) scream for your spouse to come look, and 2) grab a camera to memorialize the event.
It’s even worse when your spouse runs in and checks the Internet to make sure you’re not experiencing a collective hallucination.
The phenomenon lasted about five minutes. If that. The local weather website showed the cell right above us and nowhere else.
According to lore I learned in childhood, we damp ones have been 1) living right and/or 2) paying the preacher.
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*Post title taken from “Rain Song,” 110 in the Shade, book by N. Richard Nash, lyrics by Tom Jones, music by Harvey Schmidt. More about that later.
M. K. Waller 
Well, I’m glad you got some anyway.
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Every drop is appreciated.
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“It’s even worse when your spouse runs in and checks the Internet to make sure you’re not experiencing a collective hallucination.” — this part made me laugh so hard I almost spit my coffee out. Congratulations on being the chosen ones for a rain shower! I watered the lawn yesterday and stood in the sprinkler for a minute. Does that count?
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Perfectly understandable. If I had a lawn sprinkler, I would do just as you did. Unfortunately, I don’t have even a lawn.
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We’ve been rejoicing on any day when we DON’T get rain–it’s been an abnormally wet summer for us, and my family on the West coast, where it always rains, have been in a drought for weeks!
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Wow! The last abnormally wet summer I remember here was 1976, when my allergist told me I couldn’t be reacting to anything because there was nothing in the air to react to. (He was almost right.)
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It’s finally dry here but now it’s ragweed season!
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