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ladyspriteI had originally planned to go to a big SCA camping event this weekend, but threats of storms, news that several friends weren't going, and knowledge that the few people I knew who would be attending would be busy dealing with the Royalty combined to convince me to stay home. Besides, the 3 Day is only a couple of weeks away, and while I'm quite comfortable with ten-mile walks, I wanted to get a slightly longer practice walk under my belt.
My amazing husband decided to support me in this endeavor, both by walking with me and by plotting a route for us - luckily, it turns out the trip from our house to the Tealuxe on Newbury Street (our favorite tea shop) is about 7.6 miles, making the round trip about exactly what I was hoping to log. There were threats of thunderstorms in our area too, but the threats weren't too severe, and the route we chose went through several shopping districts full of cute, friendly shops we could duck into if the weather got too bad.
So we woke up this morning, ate breakfast, and set out to stroll. The sky was clear, and blue as a robin's egg, and full of boofy, adorable white clouds, the sun was bright, and there was a breeze that kept things from becoming overwhelmingly hot. We had plenty of water, and I had remembered my hat. It was about as perfect as I could have ever hoped for.
So we strolled, and we chatted, and confused passers-by with our animated discussion of the impact of immortality on the psyche as represented in the works of Greg Bear and Jane Lindskold, and somewhere around Mile 5.5 it started to drizzle. Just a little - enough to be kind of welcome in the heat, actually, with the breeze creating a gorgeous evaporative cooling effect. We kept walking, getting only slightly concerned as it progressed from a faint drizzle to steady light rain, and as our route twisted to take us under the section of sky now covered by thick, rolling gray clouds.
By the time we made it to the Tealuxe (and realized it was closed for renovations), it was well and truly raining. No problem, we thought; we should stop for lunch anyway. Alas, by the time we finished our burgers and ducked back outside, instead of clearing up the rain had become heavier. I took out the umbrella we had stashed in our backpack just in time for the rain to go from 'serious' to 'apocalyptic floods sluicing down from Heaven in sheets.'
Within a minute, I was drenched in spite of the umbrella, which turned out to be mostly useful as a windbreak. My poor husband, having no umbrella, and a pair of glasses that were now useless smeary sodden visual barriers, was even worse off than I. "We could call it quits," he offered. "Take the T home, and try again another day...."
And that is when the war between stubbornness and common sense began in my brain. And anyone who has known me for more than a week can tell you exactly how it turned out. Which is why, five minutes later, we were strolling merrily down an eerily empty Newbury Street, splashing through calf-deep rivers with scarily swift currents every time we approached the curb, shouting 'Singin' In the Rain' at the top of our lungs and laughing like loons.
We got soaked. He was half-blinded, I was, if not half-frozen, at least well and truly chilled. At one point we looked up to realize that we were walking through fog thick enough that we couldn't see the end of the bridge we were walking over, and then glanced down to see cars stuck in the middle of Memorial Drive, trapped in bumper-deep rapids where there used to be a road. I speculated on the fact that, of all the bodily woes I had anticipated from this walk, pruny fingers had not been one of them.
Blessedly, after an hour or so, the rain died back down to a drizzle, and then to nothing. By the time we reached our house again my pants were beginning to show dry patches and I could no longer wring water out of my braid. (My husband, having worn denim shorts, was nowhere near as lucky as I.)
And now I am showered and Advil'ed and sitting on my comfy sofa in clean, dry clothes (okay, clean dry pajama shorts and a tank top. It's my life, and my home, and I can wear pj's in the middle of the afternoon if I feel like it.) while my blessed spouse takes his turn in the shower. And, go figure, the sky is clear again and I can glimpse a hint of blue from outside my living room window.
At least I didn't wind up getting heatstroke again....
My amazing husband decided to support me in this endeavor, both by walking with me and by plotting a route for us - luckily, it turns out the trip from our house to the Tealuxe on Newbury Street (our favorite tea shop) is about 7.6 miles, making the round trip about exactly what I was hoping to log. There were threats of thunderstorms in our area too, but the threats weren't too severe, and the route we chose went through several shopping districts full of cute, friendly shops we could duck into if the weather got too bad.
So we woke up this morning, ate breakfast, and set out to stroll. The sky was clear, and blue as a robin's egg, and full of boofy, adorable white clouds, the sun was bright, and there was a breeze that kept things from becoming overwhelmingly hot. We had plenty of water, and I had remembered my hat. It was about as perfect as I could have ever hoped for.
So we strolled, and we chatted, and confused passers-by with our animated discussion of the impact of immortality on the psyche as represented in the works of Greg Bear and Jane Lindskold, and somewhere around Mile 5.5 it started to drizzle. Just a little - enough to be kind of welcome in the heat, actually, with the breeze creating a gorgeous evaporative cooling effect. We kept walking, getting only slightly concerned as it progressed from a faint drizzle to steady light rain, and as our route twisted to take us under the section of sky now covered by thick, rolling gray clouds.
By the time we made it to the Tealuxe (and realized it was closed for renovations), it was well and truly raining. No problem, we thought; we should stop for lunch anyway. Alas, by the time we finished our burgers and ducked back outside, instead of clearing up the rain had become heavier. I took out the umbrella we had stashed in our backpack just in time for the rain to go from 'serious' to 'apocalyptic floods sluicing down from Heaven in sheets.'
Within a minute, I was drenched in spite of the umbrella, which turned out to be mostly useful as a windbreak. My poor husband, having no umbrella, and a pair of glasses that were now useless smeary sodden visual barriers, was even worse off than I. "We could call it quits," he offered. "Take the T home, and try again another day...."
And that is when the war between stubbornness and common sense began in my brain. And anyone who has known me for more than a week can tell you exactly how it turned out. Which is why, five minutes later, we were strolling merrily down an eerily empty Newbury Street, splashing through calf-deep rivers with scarily swift currents every time we approached the curb, shouting 'Singin' In the Rain' at the top of our lungs and laughing like loons.
We got soaked. He was half-blinded, I was, if not half-frozen, at least well and truly chilled. At one point we looked up to realize that we were walking through fog thick enough that we couldn't see the end of the bridge we were walking over, and then glanced down to see cars stuck in the middle of Memorial Drive, trapped in bumper-deep rapids where there used to be a road. I speculated on the fact that, of all the bodily woes I had anticipated from this walk, pruny fingers had not been one of them.
Blessedly, after an hour or so, the rain died back down to a drizzle, and then to nothing. By the time we reached our house again my pants were beginning to show dry patches and I could no longer wring water out of my braid. (My husband, having worn denim shorts, was nowhere near as lucky as I.)
And now I am showered and Advil'ed and sitting on my comfy sofa in clean, dry clothes (okay, clean dry pajama shorts and a tank top. It's my life, and my home, and I can wear pj's in the middle of the afternoon if I feel like it.) while my blessed spouse takes his turn in the shower. And, go figure, the sky is clear again and I can glimpse a hint of blue from outside my living room window.
At least I didn't wind up getting heatstroke again....
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no subject
Date: 2010-07-10 10:14 pm (UTC)But seriously, go you, for sticking with it and playing in the rain!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 02:23 am (UTC)*snorrrt* You made me laugh so hard there is yoghurt in my nose. :) You are mighty, and I am impressed.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 07:22 am (UTC)2) PJs in mid-afternoon. Good.
3) An opportunity to say "blessed spouse". Good.
Put this one solidly in the "Good day" column
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 07:07 pm (UTC)It also sounds a lot like my Saturday, except that I was in a car in the Burlington/Woburn/Winchester areas, on floody roads. I was very happy that I'd grown up in an area prone to this kind of storm and flash flooding, and even happier that whoever was driving the car ahead of me also had good storm-navigating skills.
And, yes, by gum, you absolutely are entitled to wear pjs in the middle of the afternoon if you feel like it!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-12 12:26 am (UTC)