Rain Drops Fallin'

"Rain Drops Keep Fallin' on My Head", written by Hal David and Burt Bacharach in 1969, is for some odd reason the first song that welcomes itself into my empty mind. I haven't heard this song on the radio, nor has it been played on Spotify. I am not sure the reason for its visit, and I don't care. My day happens regardless.

It is 82 degrees ferinheight and sunny in the midwestern part of the U.S., but 54 degrees in the west coast with heavy rain showers lasting the entire weekend. This type of weather behavior is unusual and almost alarming. The weather has switched its roles, playing the part of its opposite, rather than sticking to its predictable forecast patterns.

Thanks to this odd swap of weather, we put on a lazy mood, drive ourselves to the nearest restaurant, Mimi's Cafe, where Dan enjoys a plum sauce pork chop and I enjoy an asparagus chicken asiago spaghettini, accompany by a New Castle and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. No dishes to wash and no clean-ups, just a reasonable gratuity is all it takes.

Being given a break from the heavy rain, we head over to Alberton's to grab a couple of half-gallon Dryer's ice cream, a couple of 12-pack Guinness, and a few essentials before heading home, where we will nest and watch a movie.

After fiddling with a number of movie channels, we arrive at "Hall Pass", a comedy starring Owen Wilson, where he gets a hall pass from his marriage to do whatever he wants for a week.

This movie entertains us for a couple of hours, while being occasionally interrupted by the rain drops blastin' on the skylight in our kitchen. It is loud and disruptive. This made me think of the song that came into my thoughts today. Laying near the window, I can clearly hear each drop hitting our house beneath it, washing way all the dirt and residue accumulated over the years, cleansing it thoroughly, and feeding the plant life surround the house in the meantime. The movie ends and the entertainment officially begins to the wee hours of the night.