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Thursday, July 21, 2011

Recipe for The Perfect Thunderstorm

**After much trial and error, I've hit upon the right combination of ingredients, activity and timing.  Considering the house-shaking power and inches of water which rained down from the heavens like so many angry and sorrowful tears within the past hour, I know I'm right. 

INGREDIENTS FOR A SUCCESSFUL RAIN DANCE:

-One iPhone loaded with several decades worth of Michael Jackson songs
-One sweaty, hungry Reluctant Suburbanite who promised a friend she'd water her plants
-A horde of threatening clouds off to the east which surreptitiously observes said house frau
-A two-week dry spell in the midst of a heat epidemic
-Several failed attempts to lure 'scattered showers' in with laborious timed sprinkler placements
-Sunscreen SPF 30+

DIRECTIONS FOR MIXING:

1: Choose to listen to aforementioned MJ tunes, beginning with "Shake Your Body Down" which he did with The Jacksons, and ending with "Heal The World".  Somewhere in the middle, include "Scream" with Janet Jackson and "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' ".  (Do NOT decide upon multiple NPR podcast selections of "This American Life" or "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me . . . " as these dry choices appear to dispell any and all rain clouds.  Why the world's biggest, and most disturbed, pop star does the trick, I can't tell you, except that his music seems to fit a variety of situations.)

2: Fill a watering can several times, placing the hose on various thirsty tall grasses and crape myrtle trees between fillings, and lug the heavy can to every single cotton-picking potted flower and tomato in your neighbor's front and back yard.  Empty and repeat.  And repeat.  And did I mention repeat?

3: Remind yourself that it's okay if your sunscreen is melting off your face in the 95-degree plus humidity afternoon because you can apply it for a fourth time if need be.  Further, embrace the pleasure you feel deep, deep, DEEP down, in knowing you are keeping alive these various and sundry flowers, vegetables and young trees which impart so much enjoyment to your busy and stressed-out friend who's presently on a week's vacation with ANOTHER friend . . . in sunny beachy Florida, while you are discovering creative ways to remain cool in the midst of multiple heat advisories.  And remember you might could be a touch irritable because you neglected to eat an actual meal and the clock was hitting 1PM when you headed out.

4: Even as the clouds gather in number, darkness, strength, and promise, do NOT -- and this is most important -- do NOT stop this laborious watering process.  Stopping now, with only the cucumber and tomatoes to go, will only ensure that this giant wall of water vapor restlessly situated on the horizon will move around you and every parched parcel of real estate in your section of town!

5: Oh, my gosh!  Turn OFF that danged sprinkler still arcing back and forth in your back yard.  It's been running for over an HOUR.  You forgot it because you decided to post yet another blog entry about that spellbindingly gorgeous and loveable Hank the Wonder Pup (even though your readers most likely tired of his antics about a month ago).

6: Don't think about rain, even as a gusty breeze stirs tired leaves and yard debris, and layers of ominous nimbus begin to creep ever closer overhead.  Calmly turn off your friend's hose and hang it up.  Admire your handiwork, pausing to snap a picture of the handsome cantaloupe you've kept alive another day for your pal (who DID invite you to celebrate her 40th birthday with a few other select friends in less than a week).  Send this cool view of said melon (even if you do say so yourself) to your relaxed and tanned friend, assuring her that her garden babies are sated and saturated.  Then, walk, don't run, home to check on the puppy you left out of his kennel but loose in your kitchen in your haste to complete your responsibilities.  If you run, this may relay the wrong signal to the approaching storm and, thus, divert its flow.

7: Trash your idea for a blog entry on the deceptive practices of local news channels and their weathermen/women as almost horizontal winds deliver the biggest, fattest, happiest, sassiest rainfall you've seen in a coon's age.  Embrace terms such as '30% chance' and 'possible hit-or-miss storms' and even those 'scattered showers' you've tried to seduce with no apparent success before now. 

8: Share your success.  Rejoice in the reality of NO WATERING tomorrow.  Ponder why the elder dog despises storms and hides indoors from them but the Wonder Pup rushes out to sit and observe the skies even as the drops begin to pelt his pelt.

9: Don't get too cocky; Mother Nature is listening.

10: Oh, and Google 'coon's age' as you've always wondered as per the origins of that particular term.


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