How "Dee" Is Your "Duong"?

Sunrise over Banrai.
For farmers without access to irrigation systems, nature and nature alone beats the rhythm of life, and the beats are fairly regular and predictable only in the broader sense of the changing seasons. But on a day-to-day basis, the rhythm can suddenly - and dangerously - change. So luck plays a big role in farming.
If I decided to plant seeds and a few weeks later they sprout and grow beautifully because just the right amount of rain had fallen, people would say I have "duong dee" (good karma, or my astrological constellations are aligned in just the right configuration).
To walk around with people thinking you have "duong dee" is like having an bright aura around you. But as with all good things in life, there is a flip side, which is when I have "duong mai dee". When this happens, a few people may compassionately ascribe my misfortune to bad karma, but more likely they'll just think I made a stupid decision. Thus the gods get the credit when things go right and man gets the blame when things go wrong.
But not really. Showing their understanding and perceptiveness of the tense relationship between humans and their gods, our Thai ancestors have handed down a saying in which the relationship is viewed exclusively from the standpoint of the exasperated gods.

"Fon tok kor chang, Fon rang kor dah. Manout kee men kiew ken thevada."

"They curse when it rains and curse when there's drought. Humans, with their stinky poops, make incessant demands on the gods!"

The gods are understandably frustrated, not only because man just can't be pleased, but also because man freely plays games with the whole "duong dee" and "duong mai dee" concept. Here's an example based on my own experience.
Almost a year ago, I had thousands of cut up little sugarcane stalks ready for planting when a long lasting rainstorm came along, making the soil too wet and soft and threatening to spoil the stalks to the point where they can no longer be used. I got nervous and asked several people if this meant that I would have to invest in a new batch of stalks.
Being Thai, the people I put the question to felt obliged to make me feel better, and so they told me what they knew I wanted to hear rather than the truth. Not a problem, they said, the rain will be over in just a little while and the stalks still look very strong and healthy.
Like a fool, I felt instantly reassured.
Eventually, the rain gods decided that they had taught me a good enough lesson on "duong mai dee" and my astrological constellation began changing for the better. To my complete surprise, the stalks grew very well after they were planted. The same people who earlier assured me that I didn't need to worry made a confession and said to me, "You have 'duong dee"! Back when it was raining all the time, we all thought your whole crop would be lost!".

Photo location: Baan Hintoom, Uthaithani province