Mandarin Orange

I am learning how to speak Chinese. I figured if I want to teach English as a foreign language I should know what it takes to learn a whole new language, and even though I know basic Spanish, I think I should learn something totally different than English. So about 95% of my class speaks Mandarin, and according to Firefly, after the world explodes, the only languages that will survive are English and Chinese, and I want to be ready for all of that.

Lesson One: I am American. I now have this sentence down pact after three weeks of saying it again and again and again. One girl, who is fluent, yelled at me one day, "We get it! You are American! No one needs to hear you explain it because it is only the most obvious thing ever." Damnit.

Lesson Two: Dirty words. I learned then and then was told never to say them. Damnit.

Lesson Three: Chinese version of "Over the river and through the woods". I know how to sing a classic traveling song in a crazy language.

Lesson Four: You're doing it wrong. Apparently I say everything weird because there are 4 ways to say every sound, and if you change the tone of your voice you change the meaning of the word. The words "ma", "ma", "ma", and "ma" are four different words. Damnit is language is hard.

Lesson Five: Compliments. Wo how cu e. With my crazy spelling I just wrote "I am cute". I know how to call you cute. I know how to say great and cool also. The girls in my class all say I am so smart because I can construct my own sentences. I think they are just being nice and or they thought that I would never get it and are amazed when I finally did.

Lesson Six: Numbers. I know 2 only because it is a sound one would make after getting hit by a dodge ball "Ughr".

Lesson Never: Characters. I absolutely do not know how to write any of this down or how to read it.

Game DAY 5-0

This weekend we played Edinburgh again. We play each team twice. We were missing about 5 starters because of class conflicts and injuries. We pulled up a few girls from the seconds. Durham lacrosse has three teams (1st, 2nd, 3rd). The best way to explain this is that 1st is like Varsity, 2nd is JV, and 3rd is Freshmen. The girls from seconds really stepped it up, but since we do not practice together too often there was a missing connection. Lacrosse is a team sport, and we cannot do well with out knowing our teammates. It was sloppy and panicky; however, we prevailed. The 1sts encouraged and supported the 2dns, the 2nds played their hearts out, and we all kept our cool. The final score was 11-7. I did not know we were winning until the final min of the game.

The sloppiness, as it always does here in England, turned into violence. I was checked in the head as well as the hands. One girl on the Edinburgh team was sticked in the face. Also- our home field was doubled booked, so about an hour before the game (I.e. as I arrived on the field) we were told that men's rugby would be practicing on the turf and that we had to play on the grass. Of course it was crazy rain the whole time. It is so funny that I play on the top team in the top league in England, and it is such a mess. I do miss American competitiveness, but to be honest at times I have more fun playing here because it is all just fun.

Best Game Ever

Today we were to play Warwick, which is like 5 hours away. I woke up bright and early, packed my bag with a pillow and I-pod, and left for my game. I focused very hard on not getting sick because 5 hours is a long time to be on a bus; to be honest I chundered (vomited) after a half hour ride to our first friendly (scrimmage).

I was starting to feel a little hot under the collar after 45 min, but I drank water and stared straight ahead. Then suddenly, my coach announced that Warwick's fields were flooded and we turned around. We will have to play them again, but we will not have to drive crazy far because they will come to us. This is how google images describes the place I never went.

Raj Douche

Okay the name of the restauraunt is RajPooth. It is seconds away from my home in Durham. I walk past in when ever I leave my house. This is what it looks like.On Thursdays it has a pretty awesome 5 course deal for cheap, and a couple of weeks ago some lacrosse girls and I went. We went straight after practice because it closes at nine, and we don't get home until about 8:30. Needless to say we looked pretty gross. Well it was't too bad, but we were in sweats with fairly messy hair and no makeup. NBD, but we were seated next to some Geordie gentlemen. A Geordie is someone from the North East part of England. Actually you know you are in Geordie country when you see the Angle of the North; look below to see the figurine.

Geordies are generally a rough a tumble group of people who have weird dialects. They like to drink, watch football, drink, and get into fights. They are pretty similar to some gentlemen that you might find the the greater Philadelphia region. As we sat down next to these, already drunk, men they slurred, "You lot must be strippers. I can tell by your dress." We ignored the obvious stab at our more than unfashionable attire because we were hungry and just wanted to eat. These dudes continued to harass out for a good 15 min. The waiter did ask them to please stop, and they stopped shouting; however, the comments were nonstop. I think we took it for so long because we A. were extremely hungry and B. we could only understand a third of their speech.

Eventually we made out several sexist, homophobic, and all in all rude comments, and well I said something. My roommate Nicole saw me and quickly got a manager to counter act my brave and stupid choice. I just could not take them drooling and offending my friends like that.

Me: Excuse me but can you please stop talking to us.

Geordie 1: I'm talkin to my mate.

Me: That is fine, but please stop starring at my friend when you do that.

Geordie 1: Would you leave us alone. I am just talkin to my mate.

Me (false politeness now lost): Fine. Look at him then.

Geordie 2: You are harassing us!

This is when the manager steps in and asks them to lower their voices. Geordie # 2 starts screaming that I was bothering them since I walked in, and they have tried to ignore us. He then tells everyone in the place that he will punch them in their faces. After that he picks up his chair and slams it on the ground with all his drunken might. Geordie #1 goes to the owner and demands that they get a free meal.

I laugh at the ass as he gets kicked out. Geordie #3, who has not said a word, eats his meal as fast as possible before getting kicked out officially.

Then the food came, and it was worth it.

Game DAY: 4-0

Yes, another win for Team Durham! This was our toughest game yet. Birmingham is actually a pretty good team. They quickly socred off the first draw, but we scored right away after that. Most of the game was goal for goal. I had some saves, and we had some missed shots; almost every goal was met with one by the other team. It was rather exciting.

We had many fans cheering on the sidlines excitedly, and that is unusual because no one ever shows up for matches. By the second half, I relized that all their shots were similar, and I knew ihow to make the saves. Honestly internet, I think I had 8 saves in a row. I stuffed those girls like it was nobody's buisness (a stuff is a stick to stick save, and it is a goalie's favorite save to make). With all those saves, my team was able to get the ball and score. We pulled ahead by about five goals.

The men's lacrosse team was there chanting my name. My whole class was there. Girls were there from the football and basketball team. I felt like such a bad ass. The end of the game was 15-8.

After the game the head of Durham sport came up to me and shook my hand. He looked me square in the eye and said, ``I'm impressed``. In England, I am an awsome goalie.

Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gansta

Dear Internet,

I formally applogize for being to busy living my life to blog about it. I heart blogging, but to be honest I enjoy being busy. Life here in Durham, UK has been all in all awesome. My next post will infrom you about yet another lacrosse win, so I suppose this one will have to be about school.

I love love love my class. Well I still dispise the one British man who always has something smarmy to say about everything, but outside of that I am really digging my classmates. As stated before most of them are from China, so when they invited me and Robin to a `Hot Pot` party, we were all in to experience a new cutural experience. A hot pot party should be called a `eat a crap load of good food for hours` party. Robin and I showed up with a bottle of wine and crisps (chips) because we are polite Americans who never come to parties empty handed. The party was at Betty's house, and it was a home stright out of a Dickens novel. The key was a straight up 17th centry key. The portraits were of women in bonnets and fancy long dresses. The whole place was all so like something you picture when you think of a Christmas Carol

Above: People who probably lived in Betty's house before she rented it. Below: Betty's front door key.

After getting over the shock about how British the place was, the smalle of food hit us like a sack of potatoes. The food was in a giant sauce pot, and it contained cabbage, meatballs, noodles, spices, rice rolls, and other unnamable yumminess. Robin and I both used chopped skills to prove how multicutral we were. Everyone was impressed. I was full after man helpings, but once the pot was empty, another just as large one was brought from the kitchen. There were about five huge ass pots full of food! It was all so good too.

Once the food was finally all eaten, Robin had to leave to play in a church funded dodgeball tournament.

I stayed to drink wine, eat cookies made by Susi, and look up youtube music videos. Erica, from Taiwan, tried to teach us how to do a traditional Taiwanese dance, but it just looked like a jazz square, which is cool because 'everyone loves a good jazz square'..After we were tired of dancing, I thought it would be a good idea to teach everyone some American drinking games. We played thumper! Everyone was really good right away; well, Susi sucked at it, but as she said Germans don't dance. I guess they do not have any sense of rhythm. I also was taught some Taiwanese drinking games.

I went home around midnight, it was a good day!

Game DAY 3-0: Man of the Match

Game three was against the Scottish team of Edinburgh (Ed-in-bra). Yes, we dominated yet again. I had my very first shut out. I know that seems unimportant when the final score is 16-0, but I did have some killer saves. One of my my defenders even have a save; she accidentally had an amazing block that might have been a goal with out her. The coolest part was that her last name is the same as mine. We make great saves us.... (insert last name here)...

After the game, the Scottish players told us to vote a man of the match. Since I had a shut out, my teammates voted for me. They also voted for me because they knew I would enjoy what ever it was the man of the match had to do. With many onlookers, including coaches, administrators, and parents, I partook in a chugging contest with one of my Scottish opponents. That is right; we each drank a pint of booze as fast as we could. I so toally won. I loved such a beautiful tradition that I am sure was influenced by their ancestors- pictured below.

Geeze I'm Fine!

In England, you are not addressed with a "Hi, how are you?"; "What's up?"; or even "What's goin' down?". Here you are greeted with a "You alight?" Now, the immediate response of any American is to get defensive and declare in no uncertain terms, "Yeah, I'm fine!" For some reason we assume the English are challenging our state of being. When people say "You alright?" in America, they mean "You look awful"; "You are not doing so well"; "I knew you weren't up for this"; or some other kind of upsetting assumption. All os us US girls in the UK know it is as harmless as "Hi", but we still get a little upset each time we hear it.

heh- culture eh? Who knew it would be so weird?

What I Did for Halloween

In England, Halloween is generally a newly celebrated holiday. They do not associate it with childhood or ancient creepy ways. It is their Cinco De Mayo; why do we celebrate a Mexican holiday in America? Because we can drink beer and pretend there is a reason to party.

England does Halloween a little differently than in the good 'ol USA. In the USA, all female costumes are slutty. In England, all costumes are scary. It was straight out of Mean Girls. My roommates and I followed neither English nor American Halloween laws, we were elephants.

Above is me in sed costume. Okay, we just put on these masks that we got from this really stupid game that we bought at a junk sale the first week of school. In our horrible masks, we went to quiz night. Yes we each paid a pound to answer random Halloween questions, but at half time they gave us pizza! Defeated, we returned home and watched the Halloween classic Boy Meets World. Seriously we watched a 90s sitcom holiday special on YouTube. It was pretty awesome.

Post Party

As I told you before Internet, I went to a wedding last week in America. The bride, Cathy, is a girl I've known for about six years. We met at Rowan University. Well to be more specific, we met at Rowan University Anime Club. Below is our official logo as created and voted in 2005 (I think). We even had shirts made. No, I didn't bring it to England.

Yes, it is the mascot for a club where a bunch of nerdy 18-22 year olds watched Japanese cartoons one night every week. I'll admit it. I was a nerd. Ah hell, I AM a nerd; I freaken blog! Any whoser, Cathy was in the club with me, and one day I announce that I was a fan of Sailor Moon: an anime that was so girly and cheesy that the Rowan Anime Club refused to show it, and please understand that most Japanese cartoons are cheesy by definition. Three other girls in the club agreed with me that Sailor Moon, a show about the heroic adventures of a very dumb and spastic 14 year old girl who talks to cats and has a 25 year old boy friend, is only the best show ever. We had out own private party in my apartment, and Cathy was one of those girls. A year later and a half, she moved in with me. (Yes, I brought Sailor Moon with me to England).

Cathy lived with me until I moved in with my girlfriend a few years ago. Cathy is also the only friend of mine that really connects with Dani, my girlfriend, because they are both huge nerds! Below is a picture of Cahty and her now husband Tom; they almost look normal, but I assure you Internet, they are not. This awesome couple LARP: Live Action Role Play. Yes, they act out a game similar to Dungeons and Dragons in the middle of the woods dressed up as fairies and warriors with other super nerds.

For their wedding, they put aside most of their nerdiness for the sake of elegance. Cathy was stunningly beautiful, Tom was handsome, there was great food an drinks, the decorations were tasteful and appropriate, and it was just a classic wedding; however, they did add some originality to the day that signified their nerdy union.

How the wedding was nerdy:

Tom had a dance off with his mom for the mother son dance

The "Gummy Bear" song played

The best man was a lady, and her gift was a sword (the other groomsmen got daggers)

Their first dance was a fake out to this song

The after party was at..... Medieval Times!!

MY NEW HELMET!

I do not know if you have realized this from previous posts, but my team color is purple. Granted my last school colors were brown and yellow, but it was chill. The colors were retro and easy to wear once you got used to them. Purple, however, is just straight up ridiculous, yet is it my color now. I have to get used to it, and it was difficult at first because my helmet was yellow. Yes, my helmet did not in any way shape or form match my team. I felt like a jerk with no connection to the team.

In short- I am now super happy to announce that I got a purple helmet. It makes me acutally dig this out of control color.

=

Fresher Welcome Drinks

When I was in college, my junior year, my team got in big trouble. We were caught hazing the freshmen. It was tradition at my school, but it was honestly not a big deal. We drank, which was optional, we played games, and we bonded. The freshmen had to do a scavenger hunt, drink 7-11 slurpies faster than the other teammates, wear shirts with dirty words on 'em, and other silly events. There were no punishments, and there was a little embarrassment; however, it was really fun. I did it when I was a freshmen, and it was one of my favorite memories of college. The problem with my junior year was that one of my teammates posted the pictures online with the name of our school, team, and the words "Freshmen Initiation" under it. We were caught by the university and had to do the following: 25 hours of community service, each sit one of our first three games ofour next season, forfeit fall ball, stay in Glassboro during spring break (it snowed the whole damn time), and formally apologize to the school. It was lame.

What happened here last Wednesday was in no way related to my pervious paragraph. My team had a "Fresher Welcome Drinks" party. Freshers are freshmen. I, and the other Americans, are not freshmen. I am actually about 7 years older than a fresher, but since it is our first year here, we had to be ... welcomed. We played many games similar to the ones I played in college, but even the upper classmen partook. The only difference between the two groups was that the newbees had to wear frog costumes, and the returning players were princesses.

All in all it was a great night. After our party, we went to the clubs. I had a rather lot to drink, but I was in no way wasted. I did stay out til 4am, and then did not get to sleep til almost 6. Not going to lie internet, I was hung over for two days. I am not 19 anymore. It was fun to bust out my awesome dance moves in green makeup on my face and froggy eyes made out of tennis balls on my head.

Pictured above are my two American roommates/teammates. They are teaching the Brits how to play flip cup in their froggy costumes.

GAME DAY 2-0

The most recent game was against our 'rivals' Newcastle. We have already had friendlies with them twice, and we know them well. The final score was 22 to 2. I am actually ashamed of the second goal. I was so bored that I forgot how to make a save, but I had two more awesome saves before the end of the game. Again my team was sloppy, but we prevailed. Next Wednesday we play in Scotland.... I think. Wish us luck!

Teaching Fix

I was a teacher for three years. I loved it. Yes, it was the most stressful thing I have ever done with my life, but it was also the most rewarding thing I have ever done in my life. I wanted to be a teacher since I was 16. My friends in high school would ask me for help in English class, and they were impressed with my knowledge of the semi-colon. Once I got in front of the classroom, well I wasn't a natural or in any form very good, but I loved it. I eventually did become a pretty decent teacher. I got some of the more rough and tumble kids, but they were awesome. These were kids who actually had something to learn even though most of them did not want to. I felt like these kids that did not give a crap about education, were far more reachable than the average student. Yes, I heard every curse word imaginable, and yes, sometimes they were aimed at me. Yes, I had druggies and fluzzies, and yes, I had good kids who tried really hard. It was just delightful to go off topic, talk about something that is directly from their lives, and then try to connect it to the literature in a way that they could relate. It actually worked sometimes. Imagine a kid who would stay up until 2am every night smoking pot and playing video games in his friend's basement because he knows that he is going to be a mechanic, and school teaches (in his mind) no skills relatable to that field, looking forward to reading Macbeth or Beowulf. That seriously happened sometimes. I had a class clap at the end of a story from The Canterbury Tales because they liked it so much, and it wasn't the slow sarcastic 'thank god this crap is over' clap I usually get.

I miss it, but I do get my teaching fix from time to time here at Durham University. At practice, because I am here on a lacrosse scholarship, we have three teams, and sometimes I get to help out with the other teams. Even on my own team, which is like the equivalent of varsity, I tend to get a little coachey. I will lead a drill or help someone with an individual issue, and it is just like I am teaching again. I was explaining a drill one time for team two, and one of the girls made a comment along the lines of, "She is totally a teacher." I couldn't help but smile even though she may have been poking fun of me.

Also my classmates are not native English speakers, so sometimes they get lost when the professor makes a joke or goes really fast. They turn to me for help. Well I am sure the fact that I am one of three native English speakers and have the friendliest face (that's right Robin, I am more approachable than you) is probably why they choose me for help. I don't mind at all. I actually feel really bad for them because I sometimes get lost in the lectures with 25 years of English language experience. Today the prof was talking about the difference between the sounds in the phrases "catch it" and "cat shit". Agatha, who was sitting next to me, pulled out her little electronic English to Chinese dictionary and could not figure out what made most of the class giggle. I then drew her a picture that looked something like this. I am sure drawing a kitten taking a dump is not really the high light of most people's day, but it was for mine!

Even though I was laid off, I do not have a doubt that some form of teaching should be my career. I am glad 16 year old me was right. She was awesome. You go 2001 Kat... you go girl.

MOLE DAY

Today is Mole Day. What is Mole Day? Well I was in Honors Chemistry in high school, so I know all about it. (Actually I barley passed with a D-). It has something to do with a unit of some sort of measurement or something. The equation is presented below.

The unit is called a mole. That is why this creepy little mammal is holding the sign. Why do I mention this in my blog about my international travels? Well, I have two very nerdy friends who are getting married, and since they are suck dorks, the wedding is today on Mole Day. I am a bride's maid, and had to fly home to get here. That is right internet; I had to fly from England to America for a weekend!

I am currently getting pretty, riding in a limo, standing in church with flowers in my hand, eating a vegetarian meal near a fancy center piece, getting very drunk, dancing, or passing out. It all depends on what time of day you read this post.

My Artwork

For some reason, unbeknownst to those who know me, I tend to draw often while listening to someone lecture. The drawings are..... Well I was told at a young age that I had "poorly developed fine motor skills". I later found out that meant my handwriting was for shit, and it would never get better. It's true. When I was a teacher, the school got a smart board, and all the teachers who wanted it had to write an essay about why they deserved it. I wrote, "My handwriting". Yes, I got the smart board, so then the children were no longer subjected to my illegible words.

I am back in school now, and I draw my little heart out. I try my very hardest, and the result is sad. I thought it would be a great idea to share the pictures with you! Enjoy.

Below: My linguistics professor was talking about the difference between human and bee communication. How could I not draw it?
Below: I used to play football.
Below: The only good grade I got in 7th grade art class was for the tree project.
Below: I had THIS SONG stuck in my head.
Below: Coco- the girl from class who smiles more often than an anime character.
Below: It just is.

Shakespeare's Pub

Wednesday night is a big time party night here at Durham Uni. As I previously stated, Wednesday is gameday for all sports, so all the athletes go out and pound beers. Well girls don't drink beer here; they drink cider, and that crap tastes like bad champagne. Any whoser, one Wednesday we went to this little hole in the wall bar called The Shakespeare Pub.

Why would we go to a crappy bar with no food, very little space, and only 3 beers on tap? Well, earlier that week a random guy, named Joe, on the street invited us. Apparently he saw our lacrosse sticks, and lacrosse players used to frequent the pub. I am still not sure if Joe works at the Shakespeare or if he just drinks there way too often.

Joe told us that we should come for "Open Mic Night". I was with Nicole, and she happens to play the guitar and sing really well. We decided to partake in "Open Mic Night". Why do I keep quoting? Well there was no mic. There was no stage. There was just... a pub.

It was awesome! We, lacrosse men and women as well as women football, drank and sang along to Nicole's fantastic talents. The best part though was when Joe came in and joined her on the accordion. He also had a harmonica. Even better was when he pulled out some spoons from his fanny pack that held spoons and only spoons.
Joe rocked the spoons pretty hard. He even taught my roommate Whit how to rock 'em as hard as he, and she did! The weirdest part of the night was when we all paid our tab and left to go to a real club, and Joe followed us out. Joe went to the Love Shack, a dance club that usually houses 18-21 year olds. He followed us around, and everyone thought Robin was his hooker! Seriously she got questions. I just hope he paid her well.

GAME DAY 1-0

Our very first official lacrosse game over here in England was against Loughborough University. We rocked 'em. Actually it was a really close game with a lot of aggression and sloppy passes on both sides. In the first min they scored two goals. It was a mess. Eventually we cleaned up our act a bit and started playing well. I had some good saves and let in some goals that I shouldn't have. It was a good day.

A Friendly Match

Here in England you say:

'match' not 'game',

'friendly' not 'scrimmage',

'pitch' not 'field',

'rubber crumb' not 'turf'',

and for all of my laxers you say 'red' not 'crash'.

We had a friendly against Newcastle (the closest city near us). We already played them in a tournament, and we will be playing them twice in the regular season. We might even see them in the post season. I suppose you COULD say Newcastle is Durham's rival, but you wouldn't.

Allow me to describe the match. First we show up about an hour before the start time. This is classic, if not a little late, for American matches. I supposed, at first, England might be a tad different. We got ready in the locker room. (I puked my guts up because I get bus sick easily, and I have been fighting off a vicious cold. yuummm.) We walked on to the pitch. (I suppose I more swaggered than walked.) We did a warm up lap, stretches, shuttles, 2v3, 7v7, and a pep talk. Newcastle, the home team, was still no where to be seen 15 min before the match.

They show up eventually, 8 min before the start time. Their coach informed my coach that he would like to do a 7v7 for a while first because his girls are not 'game ready'. He also tells her that they do not have a goal keeper. I, of course, was ease dropping, and I was pissed. I was sick, grumpy, and missing a class for this friendly, and they weren't even treating it like a real game! I grew grumpier.

We played a nice like seven vs seven, which was actually good practice. Our defense held strong. Then we switch to offense, but I stayed in goal because they had no goalie to call their own. I was fine with this because I am used to my own players shooting on me at practice. What I was not cool with was the Newcastle coach, an American dude, yelling at my players for 'starting before the whistle'. His team totally did that too. Also, it was a joke to even be doing any of that so clam down A-hole.

Okay, okay, I am overreacting, but wait until you hear about the actual match, Internet. The coach decided to be his team's goalie. Alright that made me feel better for being there because a one goalie game in lacrosse is just lame; however, this guy was such a pompous ass that I'd rather play on Newcastle's team then witness his dumassery. He yelled at his girls like he saw a spider in his underwear and thought yelling would save him from it. He took back goals from my team for made up rules. He cheated by playing men's rules. (He raked the ball.) He was also a ball hog. Now keep in mind that he was a goalie. In lacrosse, goalies rarely move more than 15 yards; this dude could have taken a shot on me. Ass.

Good news is we won. We won by a whole lot. I had one save and no goals against. Normally I would be super proud and pompous about a shut out (or clean sheet as the Brits put it), but they were just that bad. I got to chat up one of the opposing offenders. She told me about some fun clubs in her town that I should hit up sometime. Her name was Lydia. We are now best friends.

I apologize for the rant. If I were a reader of this blog, I would say in the comment section, "Yeah, but why you mad though?" because there is no reason to ever be this pissed off in a blog. Blog should be used for good. I promise to keep the fun coming. Maybe. Sort of. Sometimes. I hope.

My New Rain Boots

I live in the northern part of England. THe best way to describe the weather here is 'dismal'. My first three days here were cheery. It was sunny and nice. It was a lie. After those three moments of jolly good weather, we got rain. You know why the landscape is so nice here? It is because it is well irrigated- by all of the rain!

One day, I walked to the shopping center to buy some toilet bowl cleaner, and my shoes ended up soaking wet because of all the rain. My feet were cold and gross. I didn't even feel like buying cleaning supplies until I saw a sign for an awesome rain boot deal. They were cute and cheap, but alas, one would need to buy two to get the awesome deal.

I sadly walk to the cheap cleaning supply store when I saw... my roommate! She was out and about by herself, and her feet were gross too! The two of use got the two pair of boots for 30 pound deal. Pictured below are our boots as well as the boots of our other roommate.
By the time we walked out of the shopping center, the rain had stopped. The lack of rain did not stop us from wearing out new boots home. We showed them off gladly and even wore then around the house for a while. Then we put them neatly in a row, and they have been there ever since.

No seriously internet, we never wore the boots again. This had to be two weeks ago, and it has not rained once during those days. Sure it rains at night just to keep the sky cloudy and the day grey, but there is no longer a need to wear rain boots when we go out.