When the Rain Comes

It’s raining today. It’s harvest time up here on the tundra and this is not a good thing. The cats, who are all inside, heartily agree. They sleep and dream of murder and mayhem.

September has started off as a lion and I’m wondering if this is a foreboding of a harsh fall. The ten day forecast shows one day where the temperatures will get above 70. Of course, given the volatility of the weather systems up here who knows what will actually happen but I suspect that the season of sweatshirts and jeans is upon us. Farewell t-shirts and shorts.

It’s a little nippy inside as well. My wife’s internal thermostat imploded at age fifty and I’ve been freezing ever since. She doesn’t want to turn on the furnace and she has the sliding glass door in her office open about half a foot. I’m in my man cave with the windows shut, the incense burning, and am ready to put a fleece jacket over my long-sleeve t-shirt. The cats and dogs curl into balls, grateful for thick fur coats, lucky bastards. Maybe I’ll sneak a space heater into the man cave and hope it doesn’t overload the electrical.

The above track is Gregg Allman’s sumptuous gospel rendition of the Beatles “Rain”. Everyone tries to cover the Beatles but very few make it interesting. I’m sure I’ve posted it before and I’ll probably post it again. Just play it and close your eyes because Beatles covers never get more soulful that this.

About jeroljohnson

I guess I'm the crying on the inside kind of clown
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