Dear Mother Nature of Oregon:
I know we’ve had a love/hate relationship ever since I moved here 17 years ago, but you’ve really gone too far this time.
I thought we had an arrangement: I will put up with the nine-plus months of solid rainfall (not unlike the rain in which Noah built his ark, I might add) if you will deliver three solid months of sunshine in the summer.
We have sustained this relationship these 17 years without a hitch, but something happened this morning and I’m confused. I left the house at 7 a.m. to drive to work and realized I needed to put my headlights on. As I pulled out of the garage I noticed liquid falling from the sky.
Was our roof leaking? I hoped. Maybe one of our sprinkler heads burst and I’m in the direct line of a renegade funnel of water? Did I accidentally hit my windshield wiper fluid?
No, it was RAINING.
Was it something I said? Was it the 145th time I screamed to the skies “I can’t take this rain one more day?” Or the time I shook my fist and yelled, “I hate Oregon weather!” You know that was the lack of Vitamin D talking, right? And the fact that once again as perfectly good hair day was ruined by you and your shenanigans.
I’m not sure what the deal is, but it’s not the deal we settled on.
Yes, Mother Nature, I realize that rain is good for the crops. And I know that the rivers are low and the rain will help with the water flow. But do you even care that I wanted to sunbathe today? I’m starting to realize one of us is only thinking of herself in this relationship.
But wait – I think we can work something out.
Now that you’ve disrupted our agreement, I believe it can be settled amicably. My demand is simple: In lieu of today (which was a gross mistake, I’m sure you’ll admit) I am strongly suggesting that Friday, Nov. 29, be a day of sunshine, warm temperatures and nary a cloud in the sky. I’ve chosen this date strategically, as it is the day after Thanksgiving. It will be the first-ever Turkey Bowl where we can play flag football on solid ground for a change, rather than the rain-soaked mud we’re accustomed to in November. It will give all of us who ate a bit too much stuffing the day before a well-deserved break in the weather to go for a bike ride, run or walk.
And the best part: I don’t have to do any Black Friday shopping because I’ll be sunbathing in the 77 degree sunshine.
Did you get that? Seventy-seven degrees. Not 80, and not 75 – 77. You owe me.
And if you can grab me a Diet Pepsi on ice as I’m sunbathing, I think we can call it good.
Thanks. You’re a peach.
Eileen Burmeister is a freelance writer who lives in Winchester, Ore. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or you can follow her on Twitter at EBurmeister.