I am so done with this weather.
J contemplates the gloom while carbo-loading.
First of all, am I the only one whose entire house is overtaken by the smell of soggy shoes and socks? Everywhere I turn I find something crumpled and cultivating mildew. I have never been a kicky-spring-rain-boot kind of mother. I’m just cheap and not enough of a shopper. They wear their snowboots while it’s chilly, and once it isn’t, their feet tend to get wet. Most years it works. This year? Not so much.
This weather’s just so disorienting. Over the weekend it struck me that usually at this point we’ve spent quite a bit of time biking (like my early March Trail-gator post, which I recommend if you have a pre-bike-rider). But this year we’ve still barely gotten into the groove, with leaky tires and slightly-too-small helmets. Because it just keeps raining. We’ve biked a couple of times, but our outings have been so spaced apart that in between we lose track of the updates that we need to make.
While I was putting together the weekly post, it occurred to me that it’s almost time for the state park beaches to open (that’s right: Memorial Day Weekend). But walking around today, it feels like we’re a million years away from sunning ourselves on the beach. Ah, doesn’t that sound delightful? Surely someday soon. . . .
Then I was pondering our summer accidents and injuries (because of poor J’s tootsies, which I mentioned in the last post), and I realized that last year at this time I was puzzling over J’s hideous bug bites. In fact, it was a year ago this week that it was so hot that I was able to create a bug-exterminating sauna upstairs.
We’ve spent time outside in spite of the weather. Just yesterday we were turning over soil in the garden. In fact, M was naming every worm she encountered “Herman,” and I advised her that with the same name the worms’ mom would have a tough time chastising them when there was Worm Misbehavior.  Then I said, “Actually, I’m anthropomorphizing the worms–do you know what that means?” M said, “Yeah.” I was impressed but suspicious, so I asked, “What?” And she answered, “Ummmm, trash-talking?”
In fact, during the watering portion of the gardening, the girls ended up soaking each other with the hose, so I’m waiting for the pneumonia to set in.
But meanwhile, it’s just starting to feel like we’re in the weird early-spring time warp. And I want out!
