Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens

As rainy seasons go, this one hasn't been all that wet so far.  We spend a few minutes every morning carefully coordinating our umbrella with our wardrobe yet rarely have an opportunity to unfurl our colorful fashion accessories.  Those umbrellas add weight to tote bags already crammed with a Kindle, a towel for drying our hands and wiping our brow, a dollar wallet, a yen wallet, maps, caramels, a water bottle, more caramels, and our appointment calendar. 

In rainy seasons past the clouds emptied nearly every day between June 1 and July 12.  This year we are seeing three of four days of sunshine between cloudbursts. 

I miss the rain.  I like how rain makes the sidewalks glisten and the greenery greener.  I like having an excuse to buy another umbrella, and then another after that.  I like the sight of dozens of umbrellas popping open almost in unison, seemingly out of nowhere. 

Most Japanese women carry an umbrella in their tote bag like I do, but where do Japanese men stow their umbrellas?  When the drops start falling and the umbrellas suddenly appear, I remember standing on the stage at the Las Vegas Hilton when David Copperfield presented me with a dozen red roses.  I never did figure out from whence those roses came and that still bothers me almost thirty years later.  I am determined to solve the Apparitional Umbrella Mystery before this rainy season reaches its official conclusion.