April Fool.

And then when it did quit raining — just for the afternoon, according to the gloriously damp forecast — we got a cleared-off scoured-clean white-blue sky, seventy degrees, that golden early-evening light everybody gets so excited about. Outside of it being so beautiful you want to tear your own head off and kick it around, I don't see what all the song and dance is for.

Rain tomorrow. Rain every other day this week. We might not see the sun again until Sunday. Fine by me. Tonight it is clear and 66 degrees and we've got the windows thrown open all over the house. A little parenthetical something in all that rain. If we'd had a regular climate of late, I might be worried about tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. All that gray. But we will take it, please.

And, finally, a Public Service Announcement from ANYLF: The fallen rained-on petals of your Japanese Magnolia may be, in fact, very, very slippery. I don't think my tailbone is cracked, but a semi-medical event took place not once — wait for it — but twice today out there on the WeatherDeck. I went in to school with slime and mud and all other whatnot all over my jeans because I wasn't changing clothes again.

And still, here as we ride into April, I shall not complain. Let it, if you please, rain, and come with that whatever hazards may come.