Yesterday was gray.
According to my painstaking meteorological observations and records, so was the day before. And the day before. And the day before. And the day before. No, not really (it was beautiful all weekend)... but it FEELS that way. Yesterday's afternoon did try its best to be spring-like and sunny, but ultimately failed. Miserably. The clouds would occasionally part enough for the sun to shine through and it was quite lovely... until it became overcast again and started drizzling. Again. It was tiresome. Enough, said I!
And today it is nice out.
I love how that works.
Yesterday, on my billionth and soggiest walk yet to the Con, I would have rolled my eyes at the thought of sitting outside on J-House's porch-swing - happy and dry, no waterproof ponchos or wellingtons in sight. I don't actually have a poncho or boots of any kind (hence the soggy walk, I guess), but still, the notion was a foreign one. Yesterday, I would have scoffed at the prospect of a bowl of delicious cherry icecream from Old B. Icecream?! Cherries?! These things do not enter the mind on dreary days. Yesterday, I would have laughed heartily and bitterly at the suggestion of updating my poor, neglected blog. BLOGS? Those can be updated only on sunny days at the beach, lemonade in hand. This is a fact.
Anyway, today I find that blue skies are not the stuff of myth and legend, and that by a miraculous reshuffling of my schedule, I find myself not accompanying vocalists but sitting outside on J-House's porch-swing, writing sweet nothings to my blossoming readership (502 hits on the blog site today? I'm not just writing open letters to my parents? People will actually read this? Or you know, at least glance at it? Sober thought indeed). I already ate my icecream.
With any luck, next time: My Weekend Which Did Not Involve A Disastrous Co-op Special Meal Or A Train-wreck Of A Quartet Performance Plus I Got Through All Of My Homework And Practicing.
Cross your fingers.