Le Weekend

It was that sort of weekend.

In the low 80s, light cool breezes, not a cloud in the sky.

Everything deciduous bathed in shades of springtime green.

The sort of weekend when you take the cover off the boat and open up all the hatches.

The sort of weekend when you air all your bedding and do seven loads of laundry and almost don't have to use the electric dryer, except you only have so many linear feet of clothesline.

You know you shouldn't set out your basil because it could still freeze, but it's that sort of weekend, and you just can't resist.

The sort of weekend you just have to play outside.  

On Saturday, Thing One turned 15.

(He got a full set of Grundens for his summer job, but the biggest hit was this coffee worship t-shirt.)

And on Sunday, Himself and I marked 17 years of matrimonialocity.











That sort of weekend.

All good.