Rain is important.  This is what I’ve been taught.  I believe it.  Recently, and by recently I mean months,  the rain clouds bring disappointment rather than life-giving water.  I’m not griping… yet.  We still have plenty of time for things to turn around.  If it doesn’t start raining soon I have devised a plan to make it rain.  We all know that mother nature is behind this.  If it doesn’t rain she is punishing us for some transgression.  My plan will be to figure out this transgression and resolve it.
If it doesn’t rain soon we must assume that mother nature is pissed at us.  Being that she is a woman we must ascertain what we’ve done to her without actually asking  her.  We all  know that asking makes it much worse.  So we must drop hints and see what happens.  For instance, one of us could be outside and make a simple remark such as “I sure hope Mother Nature knows that I wasn’t looking at Lady Luck the other day.  I was simply looking somewhere she just happened to be standing.”  If it starts to cloud up or sprinkle we’ll know we’re on the right track.  We can continue on explaining ourselves and apologizing until the clouds burst forth and we are drenched.
If nothing happens after the first statement we must assume we’ve forgotten some special event.  One must be careful in this area.  If we say the wrong event we’re doomed to have this drought for a while.  I suggest we quietly hum the happy birthday song when we’re around mother nature.  If nothing happens then we can go to humming the wedding march.  If we get nothing then we must try something drastic.  We must get her something and present it to her.  When she asks what’s this for we must say “you know, silly”.  This is a last ditch effort.  I hope she tears up and let’s loose a torrent of water .  All will be forgiven.  She will be happy and we’ll make hay and gardens while prancing amoungst the daffodils.  She is a good old gal just not when she’s angry.  She’s pre-menopausal now.  We better be good.
The very last thing we might try if all else fails is the most dangerous.  I shudder to even think of it.  Desperate times mean desperate measures.  If we can’t appease her by employing the previous plans then we must make her mad.  Mad enough to cry.  Yes you heard me right.  I can’t believe I’m saying it either.  We will have to make statements about her appearance.  We all know how touchy she’s become.   We’ve seen the eroding of her magnificent humps over the years.  The grand canyon ain’t looking any smaller.  She’s got sink holes now  in odd places and her breath, sometimes…my god her breath.  We’ll have to say these things in a way that seems like we’re just trying to help her.  We want her mad enough to cry, not mad enough to leave us.  Even though her best days are behind her I’m sure there’s a sun out there that would be more than willing to hook up with her.  We can’t have that.  We’ve got  all this work in on her.   I don’t think we can afford to lose half our stuff either.  If it comes to that I’m staying  with this sun.  He’s always been warm.  The new one might not be as warm.  I’m accustomed to this amount of warmth and I’m staying put.