We live in a lovely town. Visitors from around the state, other states and even other countries, tell us how pretty our home town is and how friendly we are. I agree. We are a modern day Camelot.

Camelot was, in mythology, a perfect place to live. Its perfection was illustrated in the 1967 film of the Broadway hit musical.  Google it and sing along with Arthur. We are a congenial spot. Oh, wait, he’s talking about the weather. In that regard, Camelot we are not.

In Camelot, by law, it cannot rain until after sundown at which time all citizens are comfortably tucked away in their cottages and castles socializing by rosy candle or fireplace glow. Outdoor tasks are completed and sports activities are still pursued outdoors in the daylight.

The law making and governing body consisted of the king, of course. It was a system common before such tiresome and time consuming institutions as democracy were widely practiced. Arthur did enjoy the counsel and society of his gallant bunch of knights seated around the round table. That table was a nice touch, but mostly ceremonial and made passing sustenance and libation easier.

Arthur’s primary education was guided by a magician slash wise man and an owl. The venerable historian, Walt Disney, filled us in on Arthur’s formative years. It’s easy to see why Arthur, as king, would clearly decree such a perfect place to live and visit. His teachers were well grounded in magic and flying gracefully.

I ask, where are the laws, and lawmakers in our town on this fundamental issue: the weather?

Why, for three out of the last four days, has it been allowed to rain right when I get off work? There are still a good three to four hours of daylight remaining when I am free to enjoy outdoor pursuits such as mowing the (relentlessly) growing grass. If the elected officials were doing their jobs, following the example set by Arthur in formulating ordinances in Camelot, this inconveniently timed rain would simply not happen …

Had I been more organized, and have the upper body strength of an industrial dock worker, the free rain would have been welcome at any hour. However, a sack of concrete weighs 80 pounds and the plan was to transport a few bags at a time to spread into and around the newly placed bricks in my long awaited patio extension. But, the transport and spreading requires, again, rain-free time after work. If it had not rained, the concrete would be spread and the rain would have done its job overnight. It would have been cost effective, as well. Now, I will possibly need to expend money to water the concrete powder after it is spread in case it doesn’t rain when it is supposed to.

My New Year’s resolution to start no new projects has been proceeding quite well. I have a multitude of possible and acceptable activities awaiting my attention, should I choose to engage. The nearly complete patio extension is evidence. The bricks had been collected and stacked in place for years.

In retrospect, my resolution was a stroke of genius. Think about it, no pressure to report great progress in improving my health and fitness, or learning a new skill. No one will know if what I’m up to is an embarrassingly unfinished project from pre-kid days or just what I want to do today. It’s a life altering approach, or just pride. I’ll never tell, don’t have to.

But, even that strategy needs a little cooperation from the weather. If I can’t do what I want to do, or in the case of grass mowing, what I need to do, then I could be distracted from the goal and be reeled in by what might be lurking and dangerously enticing and intriguing.

It might appear I am laying the groundwork for rationalizing failed resolutions and preparing to lay blame for my failure at the feet of someone else. As with any effort to change behavior, experts will encourage a person to evaluate what and why one choice is more desirable than another in achieving personal goals. What needs to change and who is in control of our choices and actions?

At periodic check points, how are we doing? Not as well as we charted? What are the previously unforeseen factors which have affected the execution of the plan? Maybe, truly, the aforementioned plan for improvement was not realistically, ultimately, possible.

It is mid June. The year is nearly half over and my New Year’s resolution is intact. Every project has been on the list for a long, long time. But, my resolve is teetering on the edge. It could go either way.

I have identified two scapegoats in anticipation of personal failure. It’s my job. If I didn’t work, I could run outside any time the weather is good.

And, our elected leaders have failed to ensure that appropriate measures are taken to control the weather. Historically, there is precedence for their role in this matter. I think I have made my case.