LitFest yesterday (it's rescheduled for May 12th) I was hoping for a pretty good show of rain, and the skies delivered some beautiful stuff.
The Bottomless Pit of Love, aka Boz, gets even deeper on rainy days, refusing to go out and asking sweetly and persistently for extra attention. What can I say but yes? (Actually, I say "whoozapooper?" It means the same thing.)
In the afternoon, I talked to a friend in Chicago. (With her, I used regular English.) It was in the 70s and sunny where she was. It's supposed to be freezing and snowy in Chicago in March! What gives? Is it a fluke? Or is it time to mandate compost-powered cars?