Not a lot I hate more than having to walk the dog in a monsoon, maybe perhaps a blizzard. Today was one of those days. We awakened early to go over and take care of the grandkids. This was an impromptu deal brought about by a silly situation requiring our daughter-in-law to go in to school, to put in her time, when she was hoping to do things differently. End of year technicalities are at fault. Our granddaughter is ‘graduating’ from preschool today, and although that is not the most momentous occasion, maybe even silly at that, but the machinations required of our daughter-in-law to get the kids here and there would have been insane without our help. So, to make things a little easier, we got up early. Despite setting the alarm, I got up way early, quelle surprise!
It is pouring out. Luckily, Stewart, being the dog who minds neither snow nor sleet, nor pouring rain, went out with a big doggy smile on his face to do his jobs. I was dressed in a new pair of sleek travel pants that have removable lower legs, allowing me to turn them into shorts, since I did not want to be walking around in wet pants all morning. My Under Armour rainproof sweatshirt under my Gore-Tex jacket with a hood that leaves little of my face uncovered, was the de rigueur clothing. I stayed dry although almost steaming under the jacket, as I plodded through the rainy weather. I had not covered the patio umbrellas, seemingly oblivious to the impending rain. The ground is swollen, the pond already overflowing, the grass is green, and it is just about fifty degrees or so. Monsoon and the fifties? Really cold!
I am sitting in our son’s house, waiting for the kids to get up. One of them is going to her Aunt’s house before going to preschool. Her brother is going to come with us to our house and we shall take him to the graduation ceremony a little later in the morning, right before noon.
Back at home, my youngest charge is watching the Gingerbread man in French.