Rain Dance

It won't rain here. I don't want to diminish the delightfulness of the cloudless blue sky, the lack of humidity and cooler temperatures, but we really, really need it to rain. Yesterday, my head started throbbing and some big clouds rolled in, and I became hopeful. My rain barrels are completely dry and my plants are withering in their beds, despite my hosing them down every other day. I eyed the sky, hand on aching head, wishing for the clouds to give me something I could use.

All day, promising clouds, but no action. It was like watching C-Span. That evening I stood outside on the patio with Sarah, waiting for Monkey to do his Monkey business. I stared at the sky. Then I stretched up to the sky and sent it a little reiki, out of desperation. Sarah looked at me quizzically. "Mommy. What are you doing?" I dropped my hands to my sides and sighed heavily. "Sarah, I'm trying to convince it to rain. The plants are dying for it. Literally."

Sarah bounded up to the flat surface of Jeremiah's Man Space. "I will do a rain dance for the plants!" she declared. She stood completely still for just a moment, commanding the attention of the heavens. Then, she launched into a little performance art piece involving a pantomime of rain, followed by returning sun. She repeated it a few times, mouthing words to herself (possibley the Itsy Bitsy Spider, but I can't be sure) and then stopped, falling just short of an "Annnnnnd Scene" and looked at me. It was so impossibly adorable that I thought it would rain maple syrup on us. Instead, very late last night, we got a little sweet rain. That's my girl!