Generally speaking, writing about rain is a bit of a non-story here in the Pacific Northwest. If I had a weather blog devoted to the drama of the local skies, it would be rather boring.
Day 1: Rain. Never saw blue skies.
Day 2: Morning showers. Afternoon clouds.
Day 3: Sprinkles, followed by showers, followed by torrential downpour, and then gray skies.
Day 4-365: Various weather patterns with a chance for rain 90% of the time.
The obvious reason for the non-existence of such a blog is that it rains often enough that it's not interesting to write about. True, we have a whole vocabulary devoted to the kinds of wet weather we get (that's linguistically interesting stuff), and I suppose psychologists have no trouble filling up their case studies with people who have Seasonal Affective Disorder (that's medically interesting stuff).
Also true: we get sunny days too--I looked it up, and evidently on average we receive 155 days of sunshine a year--and if you were to consider today, and Saturday (but not Sunday) it would appear that we might be heading into summer.
Raise your hand if you're a local and you think summer is right around the corner.
In April we set the (local) record for number of rainy days: 25.
In late May and early June we set the record for number of consecutive days of rain: 19.
Nineteen days of rain. Can I do the math for you? That's almost three weeks of soggy weather. And believe me, our rainy days are not like Florida or Hawaii's rainy days. When it rains, it's cold. And you feel as though you may never be warm again.
But then after those nineteen days of rain, we got even more rain, and guess what happened?
The creek flooded.
We went all winter without the creek flooding, all winter without grass underwater. And then two weeks before summer, this happens.
All that grass? Not usually underwater.
I know, honey. I won't blame you if you don't want to live here when you grow up. I'll miss you, but I won't blame you.
The creek flooding isn't any big tragedy or anything--there were no crops washed away, or endangered turtles habitating down there, and after listening to Jason read a chapter tonight in one of the Little House on the Prairie books about the plague of grasshoppers coming from the sky and everything shriveling up and drying out, I have to admit that I wouldn't exactly want to live in that--but it's just, like, really? REALLY? This is what we get two weeks before summer? Ridiculous. Last year we were bbq'ing and playing in the creek to cool off from the 90 degree weather; this year I'm feeling thankful that I got the slightest of sunburns on Saturday.
My unfortunate lot in life is that I have always lived in the PacNW, and I always will, and yet I do not like/enjoy/cherish the rain. Ever. The whole dancing in the rain and splashing romantically in puddles is foreign to me because I will never prefer rain over non-rain. I can pragmatically appreciate the effects of rain--it's very green here, we don't have to water our lawns too often, my skin does not painfully dry out, we probably won't get grasshoppers raining from the sky, just metaphorical cats and dogs--but the rain isn't something I'm middle-of-the-road about.
I try not to spend too much energy hating the rain...except when I'm pregnant and feel like I deserve better. I'm growing a baby, for Pete's sake. Is it too much to ask for weather that doesn't depress me?
The answer is, yes. Yes, it is too much to ask for.
I'll tell you who does love the rain, though.
If only I could kiss a frog and the sun would come out. That would be worth puckering up for.