First rain

I went into the local art co-op this afternoon and struck up a conversation with the two elderly artists whose turn it was to run the cash register today. It’s funny how the brief bit of small talk that passes the time between strangers or slight acquaintances in Tucson sounds so much like Albuquerque. Everywhere, people talk about the weather. But in the desert we have our own particular twist on weather.

The old women: “How is it out there, just as hot?”

Me: “Sure is, but it’s starting to get muggy.”

The old women: “Muggy today? But there’s still no rain. Just clouds; not a drop of rain. So hot.”

Me: “Oh I got it, I got rain at my house!”

The old women, suddenly excited and both talking at once: “You did? You got rain? When? Where? How much?”

Me: “Last night, 10:35, for fifteen minutes and hard too, really coming down.”

The old women: “Fifteen minutes! Oh wow, fifteen minutes!” (That’s a lot, by the way). “Where? Where?…There wasn’t any sight of it at my house…Mine either. I swear I’ve got a dry dome sitting over my house.”

Me: “Right near here, I’m only a few blocks that way. Maybe there was even some here too. My yard was still damp in the morning! Gone now, of course.”

The old women: “Fifteen minutes?! Right near here!”

Me: “Maybe ten. But I’m pretty sure it was fifteen.”

The old women: “It stayed damp all night?”

Me: “Yep, in fourteen days I’ll have mosquitoes.”

The old women: “It’ll be faster than that!”

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Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism