The weekend was slated to be rainy, but the newspaper was wrong. It frequently is, and I blame the fact that they use a weird “forecast your own weather” system. A few months ago, there was an article in the paper, written by the editor, that stated the forecasting service the newspaper was using had been wildly inaccurate, so they were calling on all Skagit residents to call in to the paper and report their own weather. I’m honestly surprised that there aren’t more tornado warnings issued in various parts of the county. I daydream about what sorts of obscure weather I could call in about.
On a sunny day: “Hailstorms on Henson Road. Softball sized ice balls pummeling cars, coming from a cloud about 6 feet in diameter.”
On a rainy day: “Lightning! And, oh God! A wall of water! A tsunami washing down from the Mount Vernon hill! We’re all doomed!”
I figure that the people who actually call and report in are at least totally amateur in predicting the weather.
Not raining!
Instead of huddling indoors while it poured outside, we spent most of our days outside. Well, the boys and I did. Tony painted a bathroom. You know, because I am pregnant and it’s like a RULE that some major renovation project must be done on the house during pregnancy.
I’m blue, da-boo-di-da-boo-da…
I ate a quarter of a giant watermelon. Also, two hot fudge sundaes (not in the same day) because my friend Meghan told me that the hot fudge sauce she had at her daughter’s birthday party on Saturday was merely chocolate chips melted with almond milk. Now, there is homemade fudge sauce in my refrigerator, just waiting for me to heat it up, which can’t be good.
Leland played in a longtime friend’s band in a bar in Everett on Saturday afternoon, so that’s where I spent an hour or so of my time. In a bar. On Saturday afternoon. Largely pregnant. I felt incongruous until I noticed that there were at least three other obviously pregnant women there. Turns out that Saturday-afternoon gigs in dive bars attract the family crowd.
The band: Edmund Wayne
Jamie and Tony fell asleep in the sun while Charles and the neighbor kids played Pokeman in a pop-tent all afternoon Sunday. It was pretty cute.
And Tony’s grandmother, who is almost 90, stopped by for a visit with his Aunt Caroline. Grandma Edith was in fine form, and because she’s deaf, she wasn’t bothered by the screaming antics of my hyper children (they tend to “show off” for visitors).
The Cook nose, through the generations
The weekend could not have been better. I even made a killer Bolognese sauce with plenty of leftovers to freeze. Let the pre-baby freezer stocking begin!
No comments:
Post a Comment