Sweet Pea feels like we took the garden hose into our closet at home and gave everything a thorough misting before we packed our luggage with dirty clothes and damp towels and set up house keeping in that closet, along with every mildew spore on the planet. If only we had a pooch to join us in our whining about being cooped up, smelling like wet dog, this would be cruising at its most realistic.
Both events were rained out. It's easy to see why that yard sale was on hold. While we talked with the young woman who was hoping to put her things in the yard, she was starting to wrinkle as the starch ran right out of her. But the market was more a surprise since it was to be held in a church, which would presumably be waterproof.
We arrived to find a crowd standing at the locked front door. I wondered why this particular arts and crafts market would be so well attended by four-year-old children. Then I overheard a mother consoling her child about the puppet show, which also was not happening in the same church at the same time. Exactly how the puppets and the crafts were to coexist wasn't clear, but it appeared that a steady downpour had cured what certainly looked to be a scheduling mishap. That's really too bad because I thought the puppet show sounded like great fun and Anita does love markets.
|Tendril, hung out to dry|
A quick glance at Doppler radar showed that we had best high tail it back to Sweet Pea before the clusters of ominous red stuff blew in from Long Island. The night before I had watched a sailing vessel drag by at a smart clip as a similar squall line lashed us with gusts. I didn't fancy meeting Sweet Pea coming as I was going against horizontal sheets of water blowing off the chop. So, the prospect of a little moisture actually did stop us.
Now we're on Sweet Pea watching it not rain at this moment and wondering why we didn't take in a Saturday matinee.The movie that was playing did get viciously panned by critics but the theater's air conditioner would have made the place bone dry. We could have taken that basket of laundry and hung it out to air. Down in front, indeed.