Mornin', everyone. We've been living on the edge here for 48 hours now, with the most dire predictions for rain, rain, and more rain -- yet apart from the severe thunderstorm I waited out under a picnic table umbrella around midnight last night, very little of it has actually fallen.
It's strange, but I can't recall such unreliable weather forecasts (at least in the digital era) as we've had here for a few days now. The key, of course, is rain as opposed to thunderstorms. When they're calling for t-storms, it's possible you'll never see a drop of percipitation; when they're calling for rain, even light rain, you'd better worry. Which makes me wonder, how come we never have thunderstorms at Wimbledon? All we get is rain, almost always very light, barely misting to drizzling rain. Anyway, I'm going out to write about the boy's final, which improbably features a boy from the U.S. (the Eastern section, no less!), Bjorn Fratangelo, who's playing Austria's Dominic Thiem.
Enjoy the men's final! I'll have a full report on it a couple of hours after it ends.
-- Pete