The "some rain" slice was, I guess, the calm eye of the big wet storm.
It is the stuff of winter though, this rain thing.
But what has made it more noticeable and annoying is the fact it decided to set up shop after such a calm and dry and relatively clement early May.
I heard someone refer to the cold snap which descended to greet the last week of autumn as a "wake-up call".
We woke up all right.
We woke up to condensation on the windows and barometers which had begun using only single digits to record the temperature.
And reports that the snowfield folks were dancing in the streets (with chains on of course) because it augured well for an early start to the ski and leg fracture season.
It is a right old spoiler this rain.
It has spoiled what I hoped would be a natural disposal of the sea of fallen leaves across the back lawn, as in previous years the rains have tended to stay mainly to the west during the first stages of winter.
It used to be that August was the wet month, from what I remember but hey, the weather does what it likes, when it likes.
So what would have been a disintegrating field of leaves drying themselves perfectly for a quick run over with the mower is now a carpet of urban seaweed.
The only buoying factor as the sun sinks lower and the southerlies breed out of control is that the flies have all gone.
And hey, we're still double the temperature of Invercargill ... although I see they haven't been getting a lot of rain lately.
Just those freezing fronts, Antarctica's greatest export.
I was also buoyed to notice last week that as Napier and Hastings enjoyed sunshine last Wednesday, accompanied by chill winds mind you, they still managed to clock up 14C.
That was only one degree less than Edinburgh where rain was falling.
I didn't scan any other northern hemisphere cities however, as places like Paris and Rome and Barcelona were, well, kind of warm.
And kind of dry.
It's during these successions of damp days that I think about the stoicism and patience of people like parents and teachers.
For while items like raincoats and gumboots exist, being outside for any longer than it takes to put the bike away is just not practical.
And at school, playtimes become hampered by downfalls and lunch is often consumed within the classroom ... which means the teacher also has to spend that much-earned break in there, too.
And at home it's finding things for them to do inside, away from the showers and sodden landscape, that can be challenging.
I guess the only agreeable option is TV and that's fine in this situation.
Oddly enough we as kids used to head outside in the rain because the backyard would fill with water and we'd go out and sink whatever toys would float in that rising lake.
And walking or cycling home from school was always spectacular as yep, you aimed for the largest puddles.
Put any little kid by a puddle and they'll instinctively stamp in it.
Must be genetic.
So these seemingly endless times of rain have their fine moments.
They have their pluses.
Well, no they don't actually but I have to embrace that opinion because if I didn't my heart would become as dark as the skies to the southwest.
But for songwriters the rain has been a great inspiration.
Both the Beatles and Dragon put out superb songs simply called Rain and there have been numbers like Who'll Stop the Rain and Rain and Tears and It's Raining Again and Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head.
That only splashes the surface of course.
If it's raining tonight tuck up in the pit and come up with as many songs with "rain" in the title as you can.
Ooh ... Rain on the Roof.
