Sunday started with a bang. Early in the morning, so early it was still dark, the night's raucous storm climaxed with a hearty round of poorly timed thunder. We'd been sleeping much too soundly to notice any lightning. The night before winds gusted as furiously as 70mph, whipping 20-ton shipping containers off the Port of Oakland and rattling our windows nearly out of their frames. As the month of March has been declared a month of hibernation (like bears, you see), we stayed in. We burned a small forest in our fireplace, watched deliciously bad movies, ordered food in, hunkered down and into one another.
"Jonesey," M whispered, nudging me after the thunder shook us awake, "Jonesey, did you hear that?" Mmmmhmm, I moaned sleepily. "Jonesey, don't you want to get up and see it?" She knows I have a sweet, nostalgia-covered spot for nasty thunderstorms, but I could only stir a little and hush her, pulling her closer. We fell back asleep and so did the storm, receding into wispy rain.
At 10:30AM on Sundays my alarm goes off to tell me that I need to get up and get dressed for my riding lesson at noon. It was raining lazily and my trainer texted a cancellation at the same time I sent one off to see if the ring was open. I was disappointed but also knew the only thing that ring would be fit for was mud wrestling.
By the time noon rolled around the clouds were just beginning to break and the day warmed right up. I'd seen a deal earlier in the week for a 5-piece patio dining set for under $200, and I managed to convince M that we should go out IMMEDIATELY to fetch it. I think it was a perfect combo of being sick of the rain and imagining a bourbon lemonade out in our backyard in the sun with a book that did it. Sure enough, an hour later we were sitting outside, listening to the birds chirp and fawning over the tiny baby clover patches M's been nursing in the backyard. DREAMY.
This is our backyard. It's a little overrun, but all I do is pick out the little seed packets for the flowers and herbs I like, so don't look at me! You can't see the clogs for the weeds! (I'm a sucker for a corny joke, had you noticed?) I was a big old wimp and pulled tights on under this corduroy mini. It was warm but not that warm.
Platform clogs: Dolce Vita Miniskirt: Gap Long T-shirt: Zara Blazer: Free People Sunglasses: Vintage
Mimosas, fancy crackers with Marcona almonds and Manchego cheese, and a shiny new copy of House Beautiful.
PS. I almost forgot to mention! Up there, those cloudy pictures? Those were taken at 1AM - they're of the megamoon!