Thursday, August 23, 2012

Planning Proceeds Apace

One month from today my daughter and future son-in-law and his parents will be in my house.  One month from Saturday, there will be a wedding at my house.  These facts are incontrovertible.  They make me happy.  They are the reason for the rest of my angst.

The kids are getting married and we could not be happier and if I could invent a Make It Not Rain machine I'd be out in the garage attending to the task right now.  I can get the tableware and the flowers and my necklace and have a good time through it all.  I cannot control the skies.

If the National Weather Service had not decided to tamper with things, I might be less concerned. Let me insert something I wrote on June 18,
The National Weather Service has decided to take charge of our monsoon season. Up until 2008, the monsoon season began after 3 consecutive days with the dew point over 54. In 2008, the National Weather Service decided that that was too much to deal with, and they set June 15th as the official start date. Too bad that it's still dry as a bone. Too bad that their own data shows that the average time for the start of the monsoon by the old standard, the one based on actual facts and science instead of bureaucratic comfort, was sometime in July.
NOAA decided that monsoon ends on September 30th, not when the dewpoint is below that green line up there.  I am losing my mind because it has rained just about every day for three weeks and monsoon has another month and a half to go... according to the government, that is.  If I manage to stave off my hysteria long enough to look at the facts, I can take comfort in the chart, realizing that we are on the downhill slope of the daily dewpoint tracker, and that it's supposed to be this wet at this time of the year... and that it won't be this wet in five weeks.

At least, that's the plan.  When TBG and I were married 37 years ago tomorrow, it poured the night before and the grass in the backyard was sodden. The tent kept us dry, and the mud on the bottom of my never-to-be-worn-again-anyway dress didn't bother me at all. 

What annoyed me was the fact that I had stopped worrying.... and because I stopped worrying, it rained.

Even the Catholics were unable to help. Mrs. Wirtanen planted St. Joseph upside down in her yard.... and gave G'ma one to plant in ours. He could do nothing about the fact that I had given up the angst.

Laugh all you want, denizens.  Go ahead, join TBG in telling me that I am much too intelligent and grounded and sophisticated and mature and adult to believe such nonsense.  Smirk at me behind my back, or to my face, as you wonder where the real me is hiding.  This is the real me.  I relaxed and it rained.

A friend replied to an email describing my worries by assuring me that a rain dance was being performed at that very minute, and I laughed as I hoped that it was an anti-precipitation-terpsichoric performance.  Chicago Gal's husband claims some karmic connection to the weather and promises that it will not rain. The wedding set decorators stood in my living room this morning.... because it was pouring outside..... and assured me that it would not rain..... no way..... by then..... no chance.... it will be lovely.

Easy for them to say. 

For my part, I'm going to nurture that knot in my stomach and that twisting in my heart from now until the dj starts to play and the food is eaten and the party begins.  I've learned my lesson. I won't be fooled again.


  1. I'm a believer in magical thinking, so I will be doing a rain dance here in the land of drought and hoping the drought moves over to your place on September 22. xoxo

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