In the publishing world, this is what you would call slush. It came unsolicited and from a less stable source. The sort of precipitation I requested is known as snow. Not slush. What came slickly dressed from the skies yesterday was aspiring snow. Kids' stuff. Which, today, has vaporized like many a child star.
So much for last Friday's rain, er, snow dance. Maybe if we'd all get together, form two lines (ladies and gents) and stomp...
Not so long ago, in 1988, during what the Government declared "the worst drought in fifty years" (affecting two-fifths of the country), a group of farmers from Ohio asked the Rosebud, S.D. Sioux tribesman, Leonard Crow Dog (there should be a Wiki link here), to assist them with their pleas for rain. Crow Dog met the farmers in Clyde, Ohio, and performed a rain/pipe dance, which, it is said, was followed by a crackling in the sky and a niagra of a rainfall. Well, I exaggerate--it was more like a quarter inch or less. Still.
I think I need to get a pipe.
Did anyone else miss Wiki today?
Stomp. Stomp. Puff.