I'm not the only one driven batty by dreary, constant rain. Yes, it started coming down again yesterday, and I was reminded of the 1932 movie "Rain" with Joan Crawford and Walter Huston, and "The Rains Came" (1939, Tyrone Power and Myrna Loy), remade in 1955 as "The Rains of Ranchipur" with Lana Turner and Richard Burton. Rain played a starring role in each of these old films. I wonder what Shakespeare would have said about this constant downpour. Portia's speech in "The Merchant Of Venice" might have gone in a different direction when she said, "The quality of mercy is not strained, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven...." There's nothing gentle about the deluge falling on us nor the accompanying fierce winds.
However, the rain gave me a good excuse to stay inside after Larry and Wendy left, nap in the chair, and watch Superbowl 51. Clay had bought me a square in a betting pool (I had to have the logistics of that explained) but neither of us won a dime. Dave called to ask for some Mama Mojo for his numbers and he did come out ahead. Regardless, I was pretty happy the Patriots were able to pull off a win in overtime. It had looked dismal in the first half.
Not that I have any influence on Nature, but I'm about ready for some sunshine.