Today's 30 Days of Thanksgiving subject is written begrudgingly, through forced smiles, in much the same way you thank your old Aunt Margaret for the Christmas socks. I'm writing it, because it's something I ought to be thankful for, though it's so easy to resent it instead.
I am thankful for rain.
I certainly didn't feel thankful for it this afternoon, as I fought with an umbrella, car keys, a wayward Lolly and a screaming Jaguar while waiting outside the school gates for the kids. In fact, I think the exact words out of my mouth were, "I hate this stupid country!" (It's possible "stupid" may have been replaced with an Irish swear word instead.) And yes, it would be an understatement to say this bleepin' weather gets me down. It would be all right if it just rained like this for a season, or if it was offset by a gorgeous summer, but it isn't.
Rain, rain go away, come back in a year next May.
Over the summer, my American compatriots were genuinely desperate for just enough rain to dampen their drought. Rain would have been manna from heaven, a luscious kiss of blessing. I won't forget the words of a Scot living in America: "I never thought I'd say this, but I hope it rains soon."
We have the opposite extreme, and it is extreme, but I am thankful we have rain. Our grass is ever green, our lochs and reservoirs never dry, our drinking water free. For these reasons, I am thankful for rain.
I'd still appreciate it though if our average annual sunshine was greater than 25%. I mean, come on.
(Read more about the weather in our little Western nook of the Clyde valley.)