The Once Unwritten but Now Written Rules of Summertime Vacations

By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

**I have broken some if not all of these rules at one time

Vacation time for many has arrived. Summer is the traditional time for families, couples and friends to gather in a place away from home and let go of all the obligations of home life.

Relaxation and becoming a free spirit are the goals. Exploring new places, trying new things and being a better you are the goals. For too man, this also means losing common sense, releasing all inhibitions, and becoming irresponsible. In short, many people morph into idiots.

To help you avoid the faux pas and jerk-like behavior that ruin vacations for the people you encounter and maybe even your own good time, I have compiled a list of Summertime Vacation Rules for you to consider.

Read signs and do what they say: Ignoring posted warnings is how children fall over cliffs and into animal pens. This is how rare flora gets trample and nature gets ruined. No snapshot is worth risking death or prison.

Wild Animals are cute but not tame: Don’t walk up to a Buffalo in Yellow Stone for a selfie, especially if they have a baby nearby. Seriously, don’t do it!

Tell people where you are going but not on social media: Post pics and highlights afterward unless your house sitter is a ninja warrior and can thwart all would be robbers and home invaders.

Don’t assume tour guides and hoteliers have common sense: They are not prepared for even the smallest emergency. The hotels with pools don’t own first aid kits. They don’t even have a stray Band-Aid laying around unless you want to fish the used one from the pool filter. Horseback riding companies and white-water rafting outfitters laugh at the notion of offering helmets and they let every nervous Nelly with cash participate in these dangerous sports.

Flip flops are not shoes: (see last weeks blog) Do not hike in them. They are useless on the beach.  They are only good for public showers and preventing foot fungus. If worn in the airport, you will have to walk barefoot through security. Disgusting! Remember the foot fungus? Gag

Hiking shoes should be sturdy: Wedges, pumps and flip flops are not recommended.

Ticks like warm moist places: Always do thorough checks. Seriously, be VERY thorough.

Wear sunscreen every day. Yes, the sun is still in the sky even on cloudy days, and no the clouds are not made of steel so the hot penetrating sunrays do get through and burn the crap out of your precious skin.

Carry bear spray, not food when hiking in Grizzly country: Give a shout out periodically to encourage all hungry bears, bobcats and coyotes to chase down the silent hikers deeper in the woods.

Don’t litter. Never Ever Ever!: Even throwing an orange peel in the woods is littering unless it is a forest of orange trees.

A vacation with kids is just doing the same thing as you do at home but in nicer place: Always chose the house or room with a view so you can admire it from the windows as you change diapers, prepare meals and wait for them to stop tantruming because they are exhausted, bored or overtired.

Plan down days: After all the disasters you have averted by following the rules, you’ll need a day for just chillaxin. It’s good to be bored.

Experience the place like the locals do: Try to get away from the tourist traps and meet locals. Give those small businesses your money, not just the national chains. I promise you won’t regret it. Plus, they will want you to come back as long as you don’t behave like a douche bag, spend money and tip your servers and bartenders!

Plan ahead: Then throw the plan in the trash and be spontaneous.

Take naps: Enough said

Turn off the news: There is no better feeling than being oblivious to the world for a few days. It can’t be considered a true vacation if you worry about all the stupid people in the world. Just work on not being one yourself.

There is no such thing as a “perfect vacation.” With a bit of common sense, common decency and realistic expectations, you can have pretty great one. If you follow my rules, your vacation will be a success and you can bring everyone home alive. Unless your plan was to encourage that least favorite cousin to “step just a little closer to the edge” of the cliff so you can get the perfect photo….

Vacation Motto:

Be safe. Be smart. Be kind. Be adventurous. Be bored.

Holiday Road by Lyndsay Buckingham

Flip Flop Flee from your Flimsy Footwear: Why Thonged Sandals Should be Avoided

By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

The only thing flip flops are good for, decoration.

This is a public service announcement

Within the colorfully illustrated beloved children’s book, Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, lie warnings about flip flops:

Skit skat skoodle doot. Flip Flop flee
Everybody's running to the coconut tree.
Mamas and papas and uncles and aunts
hug their little dears and dust their pants.
“Help us up,” cried A B C.
Next from the pileup skinned-knee D
and stubbed toe E
and patched up F.
Then comes G all out of breath.
H is tangled up with I.
J and K are about to cry.
L is knotted like a tie.
M is looped.
N is stooped.
O is twisted alley-oop
Skit skat skoodle doot. Flip Flop flee
Look who’s coming! It’s black eyed P, Q R S, and loose tooth T.
Then U V W wiggle jiggle free.

One could argue that this story foretold the chaos and mass injuries caused by flip flops. Why haven’t we heeded authors Bill Martin Jr. and John Archambault's warnings? If we had, so many senseless injuries could’ve been avoided!

Thankfully for you, I’m here to help you break your dependency on that ubiquitous summer footwear item. I know they’re easy to wear. I get it, they’re inexpensive. I see all the cute styles and colors. So much about them is irresistible, but resist is what we must do!

If you like fungus on your feet, flip flops are the shoes for you.

If you like blisters and plantar fasciitis, flip flops are the shoes for you.

If you like broken or achy toes and ankles, flips are the shoes for you.

If you like to trip and fall, flip-flops are the shoes for you.

If you like to show people your skanky toenails and callused feet, flip flops are the shoes for you.

Yes, I own and wear flip flops, that is why I can speak so freely on this topic. I don my flip flops less frequently than many of my peers, neighbors, and family members

The Reasons I have Avoided Flip Flops

1. I am clumsy. Even my Sanku yoga matt sandals with the back strap cause me to trip up the steps and walk with a shortened and awkward stride.

2.  My bad back flares up each time I wear flip flops no matter how briefly.

3.  They make my legs ache and probably contributed to my varicose veins.

4.  My feet are not always in the best shape. I care about you too much to show you my dried-up gross tootsies. Please feel free to reciprocate this kindness.

5.  My tootsies are usually cold and I need more coverage for warmth.

For those of you who just can’t part from your flip flops, I worry deeply about your health and wellbeing. I worry about your safety and the safety of those around you. I urge you to consider parting with your flimsy footwear for your sake and the sake of the community.

"Flip Flops Cause 200,000 Injuries Annually"

According to a 2010 article in the Daily Mail, in the UK flip flops cause 200,000 injuries annually costing taxpayers 40 million of whatever form of money they use over there. Euros? With the US having an exponentially larger population it must cost us 400 million Euros. I mean dollars. 

To help you make an informed decision about your choice of footwear I have compiled a list of scenarios where wearing flip flops would be the most treacherous and imprudent.

Avoid Flip Flops When

Driving: These backless slivers of foam can easily slip off of your feet and jam under the gas pedal causing you to wreck into oblivious pedestrians who cannot run fast enough away from your careening, out of control vehicle because they too are wearing flip flops.

Hiking: While entertaining for onlookers, trying to traverse rocky, mountainous, slippery slopes wearing flip flops is extremely risky. Yes, even if your backless shoe looks rugged, made by companies known for hiking shoes, don’t fall into their evil trap or you may find yourself falling over a cliff.

Riding a bike: Trying to grasp the flip flop with your toes while pedaling may look easy enough, but I promise you this is a difficult task and a skill that most haven’t and never will perfect.

Walking on the beach: Seriously, has anyone ever been able to walk across scorching hot, dry sand in flip flops with any grace or success? Kicking sand up into the faces of snoozing sunbathers as your thonged shoes slap against your scorched heels and then stopping every few seconds to readjust your “shoe” is annoying on so many levels.

In the snow: If I have to explain this you are a lost cause and I bid you good health and future common sense.

You have a bad back: This type of footwear notoriously lacks arch support. The toe-curling grip and forced shortened stride don’t help either. If you don’t already have an aching back, you will.

Working: If you work in an office, wait tables, clean houses, drive trucks, deliver packages, paint houses, teach school, attend to patients, pretty much any job you can think of aside from poolside lifeguard, do not wear flip flops!

You are in school: This applies to any large group situation where walking amongst throngs of unaware folks and navigating steps is involved. My kids have never been allowed to were these ridiculous things to school and never will be. People inadvertently and intentionally step on the backs to make you trip. Falling up and down steps as you scurry between classes while balancing books, instruments and odd sized and shaped projects is just asking for a face plant. Nobody’s self-esteem is strong enough to brush off that kind of embarrassment.

Playing sports: Unless the sport is, see how far you can run in flip-flops without falling or breaking something, this is just solid advice.

Cutting grass: Unless this is the only way your disgusting toenails get trimmed.

You haven’t had a pedicure since last summer: I think no explanation should be needed. Message me if I need to explain.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1298471/Flip-flops-injure-200-000-year-costing-NHS-astonishing-40m.html

The Few Times When Wearing Flip Flops Makes Sense

 **I offer these with hesitation

Immediately after a pedicure: When your feet are clean and your nails are not yellow and curled under for lack of trimming. Just until the polish dries

In a public shower: This is the best way to protect your feet from the foot fungus of strangers. Remember, a) the “shoe” will absorb the filth and pass it on later, and b) wet flip-flops are slippery.

Around the pool: Actually, just when you are using the restroom. Walk don’t run. Thank you for not peeing in the pool.

They have a backstrap: Even this is not a failsafe solution

There are numerous options for a safer slip-on shoe. Do yourself a favor. Do the world a favor. Consider your options.

Ways to Clear the Clutter

By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

My daughter made me so happy the other day. The words she uttered to make my day were simple, “I’m going to clean my room.” Then, she took it one step further, catapulting me into feeling equal parts bliss and pride. She proclaimed, “I’m gonna get rid of everything I haven’t used for six months.”

I swooned.

After I regained my strength, it took every ounce of my remaining energy to stifle my signature kneejerk response. I did not correct her error. Sometimes I do learn from my mistakes. 

Hooray me!

I knew if I spoke-up, she would abandon her plan to declutter her room. She would roll her eyes and begrudge my know-it-all persona. I can’t help it if I know a lot of useless stuff like that the rule of throwing things out is really three years of no use, not six months. Silly girl.

Rather than sweat the small stuff, I bit my tongue and expressed only the moderate enthusiasm that I knew my touchy teen could tolerate. No big accolades for her, just a simple, “That sounds like a good idea honey. Have fun.” I knew the “have fun” part was more praise than she can normally stomach, but I had trouble containing my true joy.

Nothing makes me happier than organizing, decluttering, and purging. Sure, I like stuff. I buy stuff all the time. The stuff I buy is meant to replace stuff I no longer need because it’s outdated, doesn’t fit, or is broken and worn. Somehow, that old stuff mysteriously gets stored in closets, drawers, and corners. 

There is only one possible culprit.

My husband is a bit of a hoarder. I find things I had placed in the trash, like unraveling and deteriorating kitchen floor mats or ancient, moldy brooms, stacked in the basement. When I ask, "Why on earth did you choose to keep this crap,” he replies, “You never know when we might need those.”

In fact, I do know when we might need those things. Never! 

Never, ever, ever will I search high and low for a filthy, useless, broken broom or a mat that leaves a trail of decayed rubber backing crumbles all over the house. I can’t imagine I’ll wake up one day and think, this house is too neat and clean I wish I has something to make it dirtier. Oh, I know. I’ll look for those old mats and nasty broom. 

Not. Gonna. Happen.

Aside from the things my daughter and husband hoard, I am a master of getting rid of once valuable to-me but now useless for-most stuff.

Ways to Get Rid of Stuff

Toss It:

One of my favorite pastimes is placing my trash on the tree lawn with a free sign on it. I hide behind the curtains in my front room window with a stopwatch to see how long it takes for my trash to become another’s treasure. The time to beat is 30 seconds.

Donate It

This is a win-win-win. With donations, you make it possible for others to work at places like the Good Will or Salvation Army. The Salvation Army will even come and get your stuff. You are providing low-cost merchandise for others to purchase. If you itemize taxes, you can deduct the estimated value of your donation. I recently estimated a bag of clothes to be worth thousands of dollars. Just kidding IRS agent. Calm down.

Places to donate include Women’s shelters, Churches, Animal shelters or other nonprofits for community garage sales, The Red Cross, NPR wants your cars, Dress for Success, etc. 

The places who want your old, useless stuff are endless.

Sell it in a Garage Sale

This is very time consuming and usually not profitable, but so much fun. It’s a way to meet your neighbors while selling them that candle you just couldn’t bring yourself to regift. All those novelty gifts from your 40^th and 50^th birthday parties fly off the shelves. People rifle through your things and make rude comments. They cringe at the $0.25 price tag on the pair of never worn shoes which have the price tags (not revealing that you actually bought them at the Goodwill before your realized why they were at the Goodwill) still attached and low-ball you to a dime.

Despite the no early birds notice in the paper, cars idle in your driveway at 7:00 am even though your sale starts promptly at 8:00 am. The people watching is phenomenal! Plus, it’s a great excuse for day drinking. I need a bloody Mary or two to get me through this bi-annual ritual

Sell it on eBay

We reserve this for the things we know are worth more than $0.25. This is more time consuming at first, but once you get the hang of it, you can sell almost anything. My husband was able to get rid of that Zune he bought when he believed Microsoft would beat Apple in the music technology game. Silly man. 

Give it to Someone

This is a great way to get rid of hand-me-downs. My girls never wore a new item of clothing, unless a grandparent bought it, until they were nearly tweens. Hand-me-downs saved us a billion dollars!

The important thing is to ask first. When I was a shy teen, my mother’s friend often roped me into babysitting her son who would spend the entire evening in his room crying hysterically until he threw-up. She had two insane Alaskan Malamutes who would escape the house. So I spent my nights trying to ignore the fact that a boy was knee deep in vomit and her crazy dogs were probably going to die on my watch. Good times. To add insult to my deep psychologically scarring, rather than pay me, this woman gave me garbage bags full of her retro polyester clothing. For some, this would be awesome, but I was not one of those girls who wanted to dress outside of the norm. No, I wanted to don the latest trends of the 1980’s, not the 1960’s. I needed cash to achieve that, not gogo boots. Ask first

Pawn Shops

I have only been to a pawn shop twice, the only times I really needed cash. Why else does one use a pawn shop, right? Both times the shifty clerks swindled me. Knowing I was desperate and a novice, they lowballed me on the jewelry I was selling. This was long before the internet became so prolific so I had no resource to school me on its true worth. Since I was desperate, I accepted the offer. If you are not in a rush, do research before using this option. Then use eBay instead.

Pass On Valuables to a Loved One

I love you. Pick me! But only if it’s diamonds or antique furniture. You don’t even need to ask first.

I promise, getting rid of stuff brings joy and will lift a weight off your shoulders. Others will find treasures in your trash. Your children and grandchildren will be so grateful when you pass on to the next world that they don’t have to rent a dumpster and get rid of all the useless crap that you refused to part with.

Remember, nobody wants your shabby broom and floor mats. Really nobody wants them not even if you put a free sign on them. They will sit on your tree lawn for 24 hours, 15 minutes, and 36, 37, 38,… forever seconds.

Dreaming of Aussie Love Never Disappoints

By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

My first true love was Father Ralph. I wanted to be Meggie Cleary as she romped on a tropical island with her forbidden lover. Because of that lifelong love affair between those two people who could never really have one another, I fell in love with Colleen McCullough’s work. The epic miniseries, The Thorn Birds, aired on television for the first time in 1983, and it shaped my unrealistic ideals of love. 

It was fantastic!

Being a young Catholic girl who grappled with her faith and the rules of the church, especially where priests were concerned, this epic story of family and illicit love set against the backdrop of the venerable and powerful Catholic tradition was delicious. Watching the sweet and neglected Meggie Cleary grow-up to be a beautiful but broken woman who fell in love with the handsome and sexy Father Ralph was just my type of scandalous love story.

Over the course of several nights, hunkered down in front of our 18” color TV in my Holly Hobby flannel nightgown my mom handmade while munching on Jiffy pop, I relished watching Meggie morph into a formidable woman who learned to live her life on her own managing her inherited empire with strength and dignity. I was encouraged by her courage to be herself, to stand-up for herself, and to not take crap from anyone, not even Barbara Stanwick who played the cruel and jealous Mary Carson.

It took years for me to sit down and read the novel from which the miniseries was based. I was not disappointed. The book, as in most cases, was even better than the miniseries. For unknown reasons, I have not read another book written by McCullough since.

That is until I found a novelette by McCullough at a yard sale recently. The Ladies of Missalonghi was not the epic tale I found with the Thorn Birds. However, this short but sweet novel was a delight to read.

In the midst of the #MeToo movement, this book, written decades prior and occurring in pre-World War I times, is surprisingly feminist. The book details the life of an extended family in one small village in Australia. The tale reveals that the men of the family have been taking advantage of the woman for decades. Forcing them to live in poverty while the menfolk steal their money and land.

The women are not unintelligent or incapable, rather they are submissive and ruled by tradition. They trust the men and do not openly question or challenge the obvious inequities. They are happy enough to just get along with the bare minimum.

All of this changes when two strangers come to town and enter the life homely but lively Missy. Missy is a dreamer and a spinster who wants more from her drab, brown life. She wants color and adventure. She craves beauty and love. Her mother and aunt discourage her dreams, compelling Missy to muddle along tolerating her lackluster life.

Una enters Missy’s life at just the right time. Una, through books and conversation, keeps Missy’s dreams alive. She encourages her to be strong, to be different, to acquire all she wants.

John Smith appears and stirs Missy’s heart. She decides to marry John before she even knows him thanks to the ideas that Una firmly planted in her mind.

Missy awakens to the realities of her own desires and the fact that the men of her family have been swindling and oppressing the women. Missy digs-in and speaks out. She takes action and changes the lives of every single person in the town.

McCullough manages to create a male character who lifts up women rather than holding them down and back. While I appreciate the way McCullough celebrates women, she narrowly manages to make sure that the women make the changes for themselves rather than relying on one kind man to rescue you them from the dregs of poverty and misogyny.

McCullough weaves in a few scenes and lines that make my skin crawl, but overall, especially considering the era she wrote this novel and the era in which she set the novel, she did an excellent job celebrating all that woman can do. The women never appear frail, weak, and needy. The women are stoic, kind, and generous. The women are self-sufficient, creative, and talented. The women are educated. Their only real character flaw is that they trust men implicitly and refuse to confront them despite their concerns.

If you are looking for a sweet romance with a twist a mystery and an element of surprise. If you crave a book that manages to make you feel good and even empowers you, this page-turner, The Ladies of Missalonghi, is a nice way to spend a pleasant afternoon reading under a tree or at the beach.

High Pressure Fails

By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

As he steps from the shadows, his menacing eyes make me certain that I must react swiftly and fiercely. I scream with all my might, but nothing but silence fills the air around me. No matter how hard I try to emit a loud, shrill warning, only smoke from my hot breath floats around me in the cool night. I feel my heart start racing as my adrenaline courses through my veins. I begin to panic. Tears fill and sting my eyes. My vision blurs as my attempts to scream fail over and over.

I find myself face to face with the nameless assailant. I ball my fists and lift my arm, winding-up like I learned from all those Saturday mornings watching Bugs Bunny. I let my arm go full force hoping for a well-placed powerful punch to the bad guy’s nose. My blow is nothing more than a tap. My arm flops down beside me. I can barely lift the weight of it. Despite repeated attempts to defend myself, my impotence persists. Everything goes black.

I awake feeling defeated and frustrated and searching for my arm. Seriously, where is my arm? I had two when I went to bed and now I only have one! As I thrash around, I discover the numb limb hiding under my pillow where I had slept upon it all night rendering it dead, useless. Drenched in sweat and overcome with the feeling of pins and needles as blood drains back into my arm, it takes a moment for me to realize that I just experienced my recurring dream.

Reflecting on these frequent dreams caused me to wonder: Why am I so incompetent in high-pressure situations?

My lack of skill in times that require quick reflexes, precision, and strength go beyond my dreams. I fail in real life too. Too many times I have attempted to react in a split second. I want to be that mom who can capture the fleeting precious moments of life on film. I want to be the neighbor who can swoop in and save the day in any emergency. I want to be athletic and nimble, wowing younger folks with my abilities in any sports arena.

Unfortunately, my reflexes and my senses are dulling with age. I rarely walk-up the steps without tripping. I must choke two times a day on food, or worse, my own saliva. I mean nose running, tears streaming, full-on choking. Forget ever trying to thread a needle or read the directions on any package. Nothing works like it used to, and I can’t adjust enough to compensate for my ever-increasing shortcomings.

Land-Line Fails

Recently, on my street, there was a road rage incident that was escalating into violence. The two old men involved stopped their trucks in the middle of our quiet side street. Parked side by side they began shouting at each other from rolled down windows. Not satisfied with the effect his loudly uttered string of profanities, the guy closest to me started rifling around in his vehicle, I assume, to find a weapon. 

My kneejerk reaction upon witnessing this, as I peeked like a coward from behind my kitchen window curtains, was to grab the house phone from its cradle on the wall and dial 911. I pressed the phone to my ear waiting for the operator to answer as I watched the old guy get out of his truck ready for fisticuffs (I guess he didn’t find that weapon).

As my heart raced with fear, I realized that no sound came from the phone. I glanced at the phone and saw I had dialed 911. I pressed it to my ear again, irritated at the inefficiency of the “emergency” responders. Still no answer, or even a ring. I looked again at my phone only to realize that I had not pressed send. Oops. By the time I calmed enough to find the send button, the men had departed, peeling away, diverging at the stop sign, fuming, but alive.

Digital Camera Fails

My daughter’s track meets are one of my favorite places to be. I love to record her races and sometimes time her. I pull out my Canon EOS digital camera and pop on the zoom lens ready for her race to begin. As soon as the gun cracks, I bring it to my eye and find her on the track. Then, I press the shoot button. This ends in a variety of ways.

1. I forgot to on turn the camera. 
2. I set it in a mode that will not accurately photograph the action. 
3. The bill of the special baseball cap I purchased to show my support of our home team gets in the way, blocking the camera, making it impossible for me to look through the eye hole. 
4. By the time I figure all this out, she is directly in front of me. My zoom lens can’t find her at the close range.

iPhone Fails

Frustrated with the Canon, I switch to my iPhone camera. Wanting to document the entire race, I prepare to video. I switch my camera mode to video and I await the beginning of the race. The gun shoots, I hit record, and the runners turn the bend. It is then I realize she is not in that heat of the race. At this time several things happen. 

1. By the time she runs, I've run out of space on my phone. 
2. After deleting the videos of girls who are not my daughter, I am ready for her next race. The gun goes off. I attempt to press record, but my screen has gone to sleep. 
3. I wake the phone, press record, and capture her in the last stretch, crossing the finish line. I press stop and cheer for her and for me. 
4. I play my video only to discover it is of my feet as I cheer for her at the end of the race. 

Or

4. I discover my finger was over the lens so no actual race was recorded just a lengthy close-up of my fingerprint.

Stopwatch Fails

As you can imagine, timing races with the stopwatch on my phone goes about the same. I think all but once I have never actually successfully timed her race accurately.

Selfie Fails

Selfies are another reflex oriented activity that I rarely achieve. First, angling the phone so that I get everything and everyone in the shot is a magic trick I have never learned. Of course, this has to be accomplished while getting an angle where I do not look like, well, look like I look. Bags under eyes, loose jowls, and wrinkles do not flatter especially in a selfie. Nevertheless, once I finally get the perfect shot lined up I push the button and …I turn off my phone…. EVERY TIME!

Kayak Fails

When kayaking with my daughters, inevitably, one of them has to pee and it is always an "emergency." I race toward shore locating a place that looks like it is accessible and private. We make it shore in the nick of time only to encounter a series of fails. 

1. The land is soft mud so we sink-into our knees as we try to get behind a tree to pee. 
2. Someone falls, cuts herself, and is bleeding significantly. 
3. I get them safely back into their boats only to fall out of my boat and into the cold water wearing my only dry clothes. 
4. From the lake, as I try to right myself and wrangle my boat, I watch helplessly as it fills with water. I watch it slowly begin to sink along with my hopes of having a fun and relaxing day on the water.

Truth be told, I cannot think of a single high-pressure situation that has not been a series of fails. Fortunately, I have managed to keep myself and my family alive. If I ever do find myself face to face with that assailant from my dreams, I hope my adrenaline gives me the power to knock him out cold. Maybe I’ll even be able to video the attack and take a selfie with him before I call 911 to have him arrested. Or not.

"I Wish it Would Rain” Said No One in Western PA, Ever

By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

Two weeks ago I scraped, washed, and swept my front porch steps and rails in preparation to give them a much needed fresh coat of paint. Much like spring cleaning the house, I like to get the exterior looking bright and shiny for upcoming warm days and nights ahead. All I needed to do was wait for two dry days so the concrete and wood could dry enough for painting. 

I’m still waiting.

Rain and storms have been in the forecast for weeks and there is no break in sight. Sure, we see the sun for moments at a time in the day. Just long enough to heat up the volatile atmosphere to create severe thunderstorms and torrential downpours. My dogs are in a permanent state of fear. 

I think we see less sun in the warm months than the cold ones. I had to unpack the vitamin D pills I stashed away for next winter. You’d think I would have learned that by now. I guess I am forever hopeful that this year we will have more sunny days.

Last year I didn’t even bother to paint the porches. There was never a fine enough day to clean them off before the humid Summer days arrived ensuring that any paint I applied would never dry no matter how long the rain might hold off.

Brian Brettschneider

Since moving here, I've found myself boasting, “Western PA has more rainy days than Seattle.” That, is in fact, not true. But, we are a close second. The landscape of the Laurel Highlands helps to keep the moisture locked in for most of the year. Of course, I am devising this from that one geography course I took in college where we discussed the leeward and wayward sides of mountain ranges and how one side is arid and one side is wet. We are on the wet side, I assume.

No matter the reason for our seemingly constant state of dampness, the lack of sun can be extremely depressing. It's warm enough to get my kayak out on the plentiful waters, but I fear while I am peacefully floating an hour away from my car in the middle of a lake, a massive thunderstorm will open up with sheets of rain and gusty winds causing me to simultaneously sink and capsize. If that doesn’t finish me off, I will be struck repeatedly by lightning and cooked like a marshmallow held too close to the campfire flame, black and crispy but not nearly as tasty.

Planning any outdoor events around here is a crap shoot. The weather folks are not helpful either. They predict calm winds and sunny skies. Convinced, you plan an elaborate outdoor party not bothering to erect canopies because the weather gal promised fair skies. You wake the day of the party confident you made the right choice until you hear the unmistakable sound of the dog whimpering in fear and rain pelting the roof. Seriously?

During my short stint in "sunny" California, I learned a few things. First of all, "sunny" California is really foggy and cool much of the year, at least where I lived. Second, I learned to appreciate rain. A dearth of rain is great for awhile, then it kind of sucks. 

In drought-stricken regions, citizens are mandated to save water. Creative ways to save water are plentiful. Flush only when poo is involved. Turn off the water when you brush teeth and wash dishes. Take ridiculously short showers. Don’t water your lawn. Your car looking a little dull and dusty, tough! Water conservation is taught alongside potty training. Worse, strangers feel compelled to scold and report you if you dare to squeeze an extra drop of water onto your vegetable garden.

California caused me to miss green grass, the beauty of a thunderstorm, brimming rivers and lakes, the clean fresh smell after a brief shower, and driving amongst people who did not fear death at the slightest drizzle. It’s mind boggling how Californian residents, literally, cannot drive in the rain.

Yes, California has way more positives than negatives in the weather and beauty categories, but rain is essential. Without rain, so much is lost. I decided to take a moment, as I hunkered down in a riverside park shelter protected from the imminent rain, to ponder why I should be grateful for rain, the infinite, unrelenting, soaking, saturating, and constant rain.

1. The Color Green- Out west green is not a shade you see blanketing the earth. The mountains are brown, yards are brown, the sand is brown. Brown reminds me of death. Green is cheerful and lively.

2. Rivers and Lakes-The lakes and rivers out west are often dry, just big mud puddles. Here, our rivers and lakes flow, riffle, and lap. Though the levels fluctuate, I can always get my kayak to float or find a place to cast my fishing rod.

3. Fewer Fire Warnings-Though we do occasionally dry-out enough to cause some concern for brush and forest fires, they are rare. When fires pop-up, they are usually doused quickly with the abundant water we have available.

4. Self-Care-The only time my toilets aren’t flushed is when my inconsiderate children “forget” to activate that little silver handle attached to the toilet tank. I do encourage turning the water off when brushing teeth, but we take as many showers as we want. Sometimes they last ten minutes or more.

5. Ground Stability-This used to be a sure thing. Landslides are way more common on the hillsides of California due to the lack of vegetation brought on by droughts and fires. However, the excess of rain we have been experiencing here has caused over saturation of our hillsides. Houses and roads have been falling away. Cracks and craters are plaguing our roads. Houses along creeks and rivers are flooding regularly. We have been subjected to floods that occur only “once every 50 years” happening multiple times annually. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.

6. Enjoying Thunderstorms-Regardless of what my dogs think, I love a good thunderstorm. The smells, the sounds, the cooling wind in the middle of an oppressively hot day, the flashes of light as diverse as fireworks, its all so majestic and magical.

7. Cleans the Community- A good rain washes away the pollen and dust that collect on the cars, roads and every other surface. A hard rain washes away the things man leaves on the ground, the trash and other unmentionable filth that inconsiderate gross people fell the need to dispose of on paved surfaces all over town.

8. Rainbows- Without rain, there aren’t rainbows. Rainbows are awesome

The water that rain gifts us is needed for life. Life is better with rain. Rain makes living more colorful, healthier, easier, prettier, and sometimes moldier. 

I know I have a choice. I can pack my bags and my kids bags and my husbands bags (because let’s face it they aren’t gonna do it) and move to some place drier and sunnier. Or, I could go to Seattle so at least my soggy life would be a hipper life. Unfortunately, those places come with a higher price tag, more traffic, more pollution, and overpopulation. 

I like my lush green hillsides and clean flowing rivers. Yes, I am tired of my backyard turning into a marsh, but the Mallard ducks who, along with the annual spring rains, move into the neighborhood each year are happy to splash and frolic, and maybe even find a small fish, in my lawn pond. So, for now, I’ll stick around. I’ll just replenish my vitamin D pill supply and put on my waders to mow the grass.

As far as my shabby looking porch goes, I guess it will have to wait and until the weather cooperates. So, it will never get done. I can rest easy though. Nobody can see its sad state through the constant, torrential downpours.

Temptations: How I Wish it Would Rain