Is it, or isn't it...

...going to rain.

I can't believe I did it.  Yes, yesterday I broke down and watered.  Just the potted plants and front yard shrub garden, still I watered.  Grrrrrrrrrr.

You would think I'd have learned by now not to trust those cute as a button, and/or middle-aged slightly pudgy, kolege edukated, meaterolgsts, (standing in front of 'green screens', clicking a remote control that adds spiffy computer generated graphics); who tell me what time it's going to get light, get dark, get wet, get hot, or get cold at a specific, well researched time.

Oh, yeah, they show those clouds a-rollin' in.  They point to the upper left hand corner of the screen and tell me (with straight face and absolute confidence) the rain will arrive in my neighborhood exactly at 3:15 PM.  And...here's the sad part...I believe them, I always believe them.

Yes, time after time, I keep my garden hoses rolled up, because I'm assured I will not need to water, rain is coming.  I'm joyful.  My water bill will not jump by one third.

Then, like yesterday, I r-e-a-l-l-y examined my potted plants.  Oh, my.  I could see some of them were in great distress.  I beheld wilted, sagging leaves, and parched soil that had slightly pulled away from the rounded edge of their pots.  What the heck?  Didn't it just rain?  That kolege edukated, meaterolgst told me it was going to.  It did, didn't it?

Well apparently not. 

So, I unrolled my hoses and watered, watered, watered.  I hoped I was not too late for some of my favorites.  I try to keep the water from running into the street, by moving the hoses at short intervals.  That's hard to do, when you are also trying to 'multi-task'.  Like getting a phone call, talking at length, and totally forgetting the water is still running.  Dang, I hate when that happens.  When I saw that water running down the street gutter I almost had a heart attack.

This morning I turn on the television.  I need to see what's happening locally.  All bad stuff of course, but I muddle through.  What I really want to see and hear is the weather report.  Finally!  There he is, a young, kolege edukated, whipper-snapper; a clean-shaven, properly attired, meaterolgst telling me by three o'clock this afternoon the showers will start.  Too late, buddy, I already took care of things.

Then he tells me, with that afore mentioned straight face and absolute confidence, there will be only one dry day over the next seven...and that will be Tuesday.  Really?  REALLY?  REALLY? 

Oh, I don't think so.  Nough said.