By the time you read this, I'll probably have been struck by lightning four times, because I have been playing Mother Nature like a ukulele. Wednesday, it was windy but clear when I biked to work and when I biked home; around noon it blew and rained hard enough that the backyard grass was still soaked at dinnertime.
Thursday morning, I biked again, despite ominous predictions of "explosive weather" on the radio and Shannon's eye-rolling at my certainty that it'd all pan out. It was gusty all day, but Northfield saw no rain or other inclemency. The headwind on the way home was harsh, but that's the point of low gears.
Thursday evening, feelin' it, I went for a run. Within ten minutes of starting, I felt a few sprinkles, and from the ridge at the east edge of the Arb I could see heavy rain to the west and the north. But the clouds rotated right around me, and never did open up - until literally the second I stopped running at our doorstep, whereupon giant summer raindrops fell for about five minutes.
Five chances of getting soaked, five escapes. Like I said, I'm due for something bad on Friday!