The weather was predicted to worsen as the day wore on, so at noon, I laced up my boots, put on my raincoat, and took Lucy out for a walk. The wind was manageable, and the temperatures had not yet fallen to their predicted chill, so we ambled a relatively pleasant two miles before turning back toward home.
No one else was out, so it seemed as if we had the world to ourselves, winding in and out and behind the bike paths, buildings, and courtyards of our neighborhood. Lucy was all in; a little rain never dampened her sense of smell or exploration. As we neared home, I collected a few evergreen branches and holly sprigs for a Christmas arrangement just before the wind picked up.
It was a lovely walk.
A few hours later, when I went to fetch Heidi from school in a now torrential downpour, the radio was tuned to a holiday station. Michael Buble sang, "Oh, the weather outside is frightful!"
And I had to agree, but when he continued the song, I made a little lyrical substitution for myself, "but since it's no use to complain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!"
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