I have a confession to make:
I simply love this wretched, icky weather.
I know that rain is supposed to be dreary and depressing and that people want nothing better than to crawl under the covers and sip cocoa until it passes and boohoo or whatnot. I mean, really, rainy weather is bad: the rain sticks to you and makes you wet in seconds– not like snow, even, which you can just brush off. And combined with the windchill effect, you are bound to be chilled to the bone in minutes and be just horribly uncomfortable, wet and miserable; and you probably won't be as prepared for it were you to be in colder weather, since when it rains during this time of year it's usually in the upper 40s or 50s or even 60s.
But rain is just beautiful, even if it's dreary. It's quiet and it smells good, and the world is just a little quieter under a blanket of rain.
Also, if you put on rubber boots and a raincoat and a sweater (oooh…… sweaters! and socks!), you can jump around in and out of puddles everywhere and be giddy and laugh as loudly as you want and no one will mind. When people are in a bad mood, they actually seem to like to see happy people, I have discovered.
And the best part of it all is –and brace yourself for the cheesiness– that now I have a little partner in crime for my rain-soaked adventures. Herr Meow and I are puddle kings, and nothing quite beats hearing all his bubbly chatter and cute preschooler delusions coming out of his smiling little mouth.
It reminds me of being cold in the rain when I was little, which, amazingly enough, is a wonderful thing.