In my novel, Pop, I mention that I hated rainy days. It wasn’t because you were stuck inside or it was depressing. It was because Pop worked outside. When it rained, he did not have work. So on rainy days he was free to spend his day in the tavern. Most rainy days, I dreaded coming home from school. You never knew what you would find going on at home. Coming home to a drunk adult at 3:30 in the afternoon set you up for a long night. We would pray he would pass out, so that we could have some peace. How do you feel on rainy days?