Looking out my Backdoor: The rain in Spain(ish) and assorted nonsense

Rain, “lluvia” in Español, pinging on my Mexican tile roof, sounds like the clatter of typewriter keys hitting the platen. Do you remember that rapidly rattling noise?

Woe is me. These old bones are having a down in the damps kind of day.

Two tropical depressions off the Pacific coast ganged up to slather the sky with black clouds, each pregnant with rain. Rain every single day since my party a week ago. Rain in November! This is the dry season — isn’t it?

I am contrary. In June I drool awaiting the first drops of moisture heralding the rainy season and relief from searing oven of May. With ra...