Some folks never tire of complaining about the rain. They complain when there’s not enough, and they complain again when we finally get some and they want it to stop. I call them “Complainers.” Me, I just love a rainy night.
Well, I love a rainy night, it’s such a beautiful sight. I. love to feel the rain on my face, taste the rain on my lips in the moonlight, ‘cos I love a rainy night, yeah I love a rain night, well I love a rainy night. (“I Love a Rainy Night” – Eddie Rabbit – 1980)
We’ve had quite a few soakers, atmospheric rivers they’re called, in the past two weeks. It’s relentless, the rain that is. I hear the next one is headed this way from the Tropic of Sir Galahad. Not sure where the heck that is, exactly. It may be out there near the Islets of Langerhans. If I sound like I’m complaining, well, perhaps I am, but not as much as the cats; first they want out, then they want to come back inside where it’s warm and dry.
Speaking of rainstorms, which I was, the all-time whopper, from Feb. 27 to March 4, 1938, brought over 30 inches of rainfall to the San Bernardino Mountains and filled Lake Gregory, which was still under construction, in just three days.
There was a time back in the 70s when folks were advised to put bricks in their toilet tanks to conserve water by flushing less of it down the drain. Others suggested showering with a friend; it’s a great way to wash all your cares away.
Showers washed all my cares away. I wake up to a sunny day, ‘cos I love a rainy night, yeah I love a rainy night.
When you’re finished fooling around in the shower and you don’t know what to do next, you could always cuddle in front of the fireplace – it’s a good way to keep warm. And, speaking of warm, do you know how to tell if it’s cold outside? I do, it’s my time-tested, proven method, quite scientific, actually.
You just go outside and if it feels cold then it’s cold. And, if it’s really cold outside, you may just want to stay here with me for a while… What’s that you say, baby?
I really can’t stay. Baby, it’s cold outside, I’ve got to go away. Baby, it’s cold outside. This evening I have been hoping that you’d drop in, so very nice. I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice. Beautiful, what’s your hurry? Listen to that fireplace roar, so, really, I’d better scurry, baby it’s cold outside. (“Baby It’s Cold Outside – First recorded by Dinah Shore & Buddy Clark – 1949)
By the time you read this, the current series of storms may be over. In the meantime, it’s nice weather for ducks.
Keep it flyin’,
Uncle Mott
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