I woke up this morning to the sound of rain pouring from the house gutters down into puddles of our gravel parking lot. The sky is a pure shade of gray with no hints of blue within sight. Amy and I have very little on our agenda for the weekend. We have laundry to do, a few meals to cook and that's about it.
Last weekend we escaped to Napier, a town on the east coast where the skys were blue and the sun was warm. As we rode the bus bikes through the coutryside we saw hundreds of sheep with their little lambs, which convinced us that spring was in our immediate future. Apparently we were wrong - spring does not seem to be anywhere near Wellington.
Maybe it will at least stop raining long enough for us to escape the house and get to a cafe or bookstore.
3 months ago
3 comments:
It's a balmy 91 in good old Central Point. There's no place like home.
Oh to be anywhere but here...
wish you and i could trade for a day...oh what i wouldn't do for a good down pour!
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