No, it's not the mantra for my life. We learned some interesting things while watching one of our local weathermen. We learned that he has access to words that no other weather-wizard does, such as "monsoonal" and "stormyness". These things were "forecasted" for us, too, so you can imagine my growing concern. We also learned of a rather alarming weather phenomena which I sincerely hope is exceedingly rare. We were more than a little alarmed that this type of storm was "forecasted" for our area. We hoped that he had merely made a mistake in his prognostication, but there it was. Looming on the darkening horizon of our weather future were "Scat. storms"! Scat storms?!? Unless Cab Calloway came back from the dead, that can only mean there's a whole new meaning to the following weather-related exchange:
"How's the weather outside?"
No singing in the rain, either. Just full-out sprinting for cover. It's not easy to sprint while holding one's breath, either. Small children will not be jumping in puddles or trying to catch anything on their tongues. Windshield wipers would be woefully ineffective, so traffic would come to a halt. April showers would still bring May flowers, and they'd be more healthy and vibrant. But very few would look outside their windows in a moody and introspective manner as the streaks form on the glass and puddles mirror the sky. Instead they'd sit in a darkened corner and cry softly, rocking back and forth in an attempt to shut their senses to the nightmare from above.