It's Raining, It's Pouring

The hour is early (4 o'clock) and it's raining outside to "beat the band" (an expression that brings back painful memories to this former clarinet player).

I used to do some of my very best sleeping while it was raining. There was nothing better than a Sunday afternoon nap .. unless it was a Sunday afternoon nap with the gentle sound of rain outside my window. Now .. it just makes me have to go to the bathroom. Oh, what a difference a few years can make.

The forecast is calling (softly and tenderly) for A.M. showers (that's when I like to take them .. my hair is too oily to do it at night) and I hope the prediction is correct. The SonShiners choir is at 1:30 and I don't want anything to discourage them from coming (who am I kidding .. the people in that age category would walk five miles in the snow, if necessary).

Young people (a term that I now use for anyone under fifty) are not quite as reliable. On Sundays, if there is the slightest (or a snowball's) chance of precipitation, they turn off the alarm, roll over and .. play dead.

The days of having perfect attendance or bringing back a bulletin from where you went to church while on vacation .. are over.

I am fifty one. This means I fall (to pieces) somewhere in between these two philosophies. I would never think of missing church, but going in late to the office on a Monday morning because it was cold and rainy?

I'm no Joan of Arc.