Select Page

Some times I put the umbrella down, next to me, and the rains makes itself all the more present. Drenches me some times. I don’t mind, but the umbrella is incensed: “I exist for this you fool — use me! Open me back up!”

Is your umbrella a bit testy as well?

The parasol (which incidentally means shield from the sun,) is a different creature all together. I find parasols to be warmer, softer, more caring.

My umbrella is kind of like a boxer, an awning that insists on blocking the elements, not just the rain, and adamant about its purpose.

“You can point me straight into that wind and I can help you there too!” the umbrella shouted. “For that matter, if someone attacks you, don’t hesitate to clobber them with me. I will do my utmost to bring great bodily harm!”

Not sure how it is that the umbrella turned out this way, while the parasol saunters about much more casually.

Oh, and by the way, my umbrella claims to be the great grand son of one of the umbrellas used in “Singin’ in the Rain”, that wonderful musical where they slosh around in the wet stuff… You’ve probably seen it more than once too.

Often weeks go by, some times even months, and I don’t open the umbrella at all. From what I gather that is rest time, kind of like hibernating for a bear.

You know, I would say umbrellas are like flowers, lots of shapes, sizes and colors.

“Excuse me,” the umbrella interrupts, “we are a lot more like people than flowers!”

It won’t help to disagree, so I just nod in agreement. I want to get along well with umbrella. Given how things are going out there nowadays you never know when that umbrella might be critically needed, even a life saver…

You say your umbrella is blue? For whatever reasons, mine is always a dark gray color.

Yes, I notice that your umbrella is the same size as mine, hey, what do you know? Maybe they’re related!