July 4th weekend is usually a big hairy deal here in the Mount Washington Valley. Lots of tourists and weekend warriors coming up to the mountains to get away from it all – or to bring it all here.

And, after a week of blistering heat and humidity, it rained non-stop starting on Friday morning.

My heart goes out to the kids who wanted to be playing outside all weekend; to the parents who were looking forward to putting their feet up and watching those kids run around from a safe, sunny distance; to the carnies who aren’t making any money on town greens selling their snake-oil-style-games; to the waitstaff who are on their feet all day, no matter what the weather is doing; to all the folks who planned and built their float parades for weeks and months, only to be kept parked in their garages the morning of.

And add to that list of complaints now the incredible sunshine that is now shining down from the cloudless sky as everyone packs up and begins the drive south. I can just hear all those drivers now, shaking their heads in disappointment as they watch what is arguably the nicest day we’ve had in ages shine through their windshields.

I found myself complaining a bit this weekend, too – about my anxiety about the future; about having an overwhelmingly long to-do list; about – you guessed it – the rain (and only just a little – I *had* been complaining recently about the worrying lack of rain).

So much disappointment, so much to complain about – and with each harangue, I try balancing it with a measure of gratitude. I mean, aren’t I lucky that I can complain about anything at all? That I’m happy and healthy; that I live in a safe, secure, beautiful place with people I love, creating music and writing that I share with folks who, in turn, support me in countless ways that sustain and nurture my needs? Lucky indeed.

There will always be uncertainty. There will always be something to complain about. We’ve all gotten lots of practice and we’re good at it! And so long as I always practice gratitude, too, then the anxiety and the frustration will be like those rain clouds that hang around for a bit – sometimes for a whole weekend – and then move on.