Back in the day, at Salida Elementary, when the worms worked their way up onto the sidewalks and the pavement turned wet, we’d wait in expection for the the intercom and the announcement of “rainy day schedule.”  It always seemed a little bitter sweet – the newness and novelty of something different and the pang of shortened recesses/lunches and thereby cranky teachers. 

After a week or so of this, the sweet part of the equation drained out leaving everyone decidedly bitter.

This is the story of life at the lake this year.

It would be easy to complain about all of the rainy days, but my father-in-law is quick to point out that we have been in a drought for 7 years and praying for rain for that same length of time . . . what did we think was going to happen?  Do we look a gift horse in the mouth?

Probably shouldn’t.

Instead, we were thankful for the moisture, for the vivid greens and blues and yellows that sprang up and the nice, cool weather.  And we busted out the “gumbrellas”, coats and boots.

Then we tried to keep the kids busy. 

First line of defense, gumbrellas.  Second, splash in the puddles.  Third, break out games.  Then sugar.

When all else failed and they were nearly as crazy as they were making us, we set them loose  and suspended the rules.

Well, for just a few minutes.  After the screaming and laughter turned maniacal and a gumbrella was broken, we sent them to bed and tried to recall another summer that was this wet.

Everyday.

Even then, though, I agreed with Papa Chris that a rainy day at the lake is better than a sunny day just about anywhere else.  And I would rather be able to put on a coat than be melting in the shade, unable to escape the heat. 

Bring on the rain.