Rainmakers

I know I've mentioned this more than once, but this winter felt like a record setter in its length and snowfall and numbingly cold temperatures. It seemed to start earlier and last longer than any in recent memory. It seemed to be more grey and the sun seemed to set earlier.

I'm pretty sure my will-this-winter-ever-end perspective has been greatly influenced by being confined indoors with a six and then seven and then eight and then nine and then ten month old. 

We went to two sessions of books and babies at our local library and they were wonderful. When Rob was off from regular work and working on the pier house and the timing of naps permitted we went to a weekly play group at a resource center near by. When we didn't have a car and when the weather was blustery nasty awful we stayed inside and looked forward to spring. We read A LOT of books about kittens and farms, rolled A LOT of balls back and forth and knocked over A PRAISE JESUS LOT of block towers.

Spring is here - evidently the wettest and windiest and greyest on record. It has rained (according to memory and my feeling liked a caged bear) for nineteen of the last twenty-one days. If the winter made it feel like spring would never come then this spring has confirmed that we will never again sit on the patio without long pants and the bug will never know the feeling of grass on bare feet. Woe is us and our longing for sunnier days. 

But this week, oh this lovely week, the clouds are finally supposed to part. The forecast for Thursday heralds warm temperatures with sun and cloud and no rain. Being two days away this could change. We could again find ourselves inside with faces pressed up against the outside watching monsoon-like rains carry our wagon and gardening tools down the street and into the harbour.

If you go way back with any weather gods or general weather influencers pretty please put a good word in for us.

Could there be an upside to all of this? Perhaps. Perhaps these rain gods and influencers, having been assigned their annual quota, have decided to divest themselves of their soggier side before the end of May. Because somehow they have come to know that we have planned to have the bug's very first birthday on the first weekend in June. And somehow they have unanimously decided that there is no better place for a first birthday than outside on picnic blankets in a backyard dotted with tulips and lily of the valleys on a warm and sunny early summer day.

Dear Weather Gods and Influencers: I very am glad for your decision.