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Bet Your Bottom Dollar

When I was a young thirty-something, my then-husband and I had a summer share with friends on New York’s Fire Island; and as most do, ours began on Memorial Day. Every Friday of that long weekend during those five or six thirty-something years, it rained on the ferry ride to Fair Harbor; it rained while we sat with our morning coffees, at the kitchen table instead of out on the deck; it rained as we sat around the same table playing cards instead of Frisbee. It rained while one of us (usually a husband) flipped food on the grill with one hand holding an umbrella. It got to the point, during those five or six thirty-something years that come Memorial Day, we came to expect the rain.

During the two decades that have passed, we have weathered many lousy days. And yes, Annie, the sun did come out “tomorrow.” Children were doted on, worried about. Now grandchildren are being born. Marriages failed; industries failed; jobs were lost. We reinvented ourselves. We moved for new careers; we moved for new love.

Two years ago, after moving – for love – to Bucks County, we put an addition onto the house, and the ceiling started leaking. Twice, the roofers tore and hammered away; twice we put up drywall and painted. We’d thought it was a done deal until Irene and Lee let us know it wasn’t. We opened up the ceiling again, then waited for a heavy snow to sit on the house to test the integrity of the repair. The only snow had come the week before.  We waited for a wind-driven spring deluge. Didn’t happen. So sometimes when you expect bad weather, it doesn’t come.

The only way you can truly tell the weather, my grandmother used to say, is to stick your head out the window.  I say, if your hair gets wet, check out http://www.realsimple.com/health/mind-mood/fun-things-to-do-rainy-day-00000000056092/index.html for some “indoor ideas.”

And if a sudden storm rips a hole somewhere in your life, you can fix it … when it feels like the right time … even for a third time.

Happy Unofficial Start to Summer, no matter what the sky does.

Carla Odell, AWP Community Educator

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