die Pfütze

We loved that word from our German grandmother. Spiel! Pfütze!  Go play, the puddles await. We would gain our yellow raincoats with hoods and out we would go with never a question.  We aren't so lucky anymore as die Pfütze (puddles) have grown to be an annoyance at best and now that there is a soaking rain "afoot" we will have plenty to choose from today. So why this?

Into every one's life a bit of rain must fall and you either make the best of it or give in to it.

Our little village is full of those who jump in puddles and others who make the rain.  These "rainers" are the ones who poo-poo everything; to whom every inconvenience is a personal attack and for whom every response borders on all out war.  They are so perpetually gloomy that, as the saying goes, they would make a hyena cry.

We have been someone outspoken of late about these gloomy Guses, growing tired of the endless whining and faux-suffering.  True to form, they look at such observations as personal attacks.  The more one prodes and pokes at their seemingly endless strings of ill-logic the more they rain down on everyone and everything.

So we have made the decision that if they insist on making puddles, we are simply going to go play in them. Give us lemons and we will make lemonade. No one is going to rain on our parade.