Coffee in hand while looking out my kitchen window, I saw the last few leaves from my oak tree land on the tall pile in my front lawn. “Felicidades a mi”, I whispered as I dreaded starting my birthday with an unpleasant chore. I threw on my robe, grabbed the rake and lawn bags and stepped outside. I felt a few water droplets hit my glasses, and quickly walked back into my garage. I cannot recall a birthday with no rain. Given that it is typical weather for mid-November in the Midwest, I alwa...