Falling on my Head Like a Memory...

Here comes the rain again! And I say that with enthusiasm and a silly grin upon my dry, chapped lips. It finally rained in Phoenix this weekend after a record-setting 143 days without any trace of precipitation. I know, I know, it is the desert. It is not supposed to be a lush and verdant getaway. But even the saguaros need some moisture to continue holding their arms at odd angles like that. Their shoulders get tired after a while, you know.

Rain in Phoenix is unlike anywhere else. People don't know how to drive. Of course, with the high population of blue hairs that retire down here, a lot of them can't see over the steering wheel on a normal day. Plus, when it rains, it usually pours. Hey, isn't that an idiom? Maybe they made it up for Phoenix because it Saturday it came down in sheets from morning until night. The shallow topsoil just can't hold onto it and puddles flood entire lanes of streets. Some get washed out completely. The best part, however, is that all the mountains ringing the Valley--the McDowells, The Superstitions, Four Peaks--have snow on them. Probably for a few more hours now as the high is 68 degrees today but it was a landmark sight around here. Sonny, I remember a time when cars were powered by fossil fuels and it snowed on those there mountains. I'm not just talking guff, you hear?

The Boyfriend was so ultra-excited that he even shot a (2 minute-long!) video of the storm outside our apartment that you can check out here.