Rain

The rarity of Utah rain is what makes it so great. Even though this has been the rainiest spring I can remember in Salt Lake--not Portland comparable--but still, wet and gray, the minute the clouds come, I'm thrilled to death. 6 and a half years of drought makes every drop seem like rescue. Plus, you can sleep in. You have a good excuse to avoid gardening. The gray hides the crevices of dirt in the house so you don't feel so compelled to clean. The sound is good for writing.
The only grim thing is that the dogs are looking at me like I'm killing them for not taking them for a walk. But the last time I walked Cleo the dog in the rain, I came home with even my underwear soaked.
And it's still Utah. I'm not about to dig up the old Portland Gortex.
So even though it's raining on Memorial Day, I'm happy. I get to type all day, maybe do a load of laundry and not feel guilty for sucking down the reservoir, and go to a barbecue tonight where the porch is fully covered and the mosquitoes will be so drenched they'll be too heavy to bite or fly.