Sister, Sister, Sister, Twin, Photos from our mother’s private funeral. And she smiled from heaven.

Cookies, Prognosticators, and Golden Doodles

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Yesterday, Eugene and I were supposed to go to a Doodle Romp at a doggie park about an hour and a half north to meet up with some friends who have goldendoodles from the same breeder.  We all met on The Paw Pad Goldendoodle Facebook page where we post pictures and videos and talk about our doodles.  It’s doodle heaven, I tell you.  Through the months and years we’ve become good friends, and I’m not sure who we are more excited to see, the doodles or the people.

That was the plan.  I didn’t sign up for the potluck at church because Eugene and I were headed north to the romp, but then came the prediction of rain.  Due to arrive the exact moment we were due to arrive.  Ominous green patches and blobs pulsed on the radar screen on everyone’s phones.  We watched, we texted, we waited, and finally, we decided to postpone.

By this time, I missed church, potluck and a meeting, I was still in my jammies, Eugene was snug on my lap, and the rain never came, not there, not here, not anywhere we could see.  Darn the forecasters and the green blob on the radar screen.  Life was easier and much more predictable actually when we went places by looking at the sky instead of a cell phone.  Instinct would have said, it was windy and chilly, and had the feel of rain, but it wasn’t raining, and if we’d sat on the stool in the kitchen, and dialed the number of a friend, and found out it wasn’t raining where she was, we’d all have popped the pups in the cars and met up.  But, we counted on that green blob to be right, not our instincts.

So, I spent the day in my jammies, crushing candy and passing through several levels, eating all the left over cookies and drinking Pepsi, ice-cold, from a bottle.  By the end of the day, I was stuffed, sluggish, feeling sick, and even discouraged, because I played the last level no less than 30 times and could not beat it, darned Candy Crush. Worse, I missed an opportunity because of a green blob and some prognosticator who is mostly wrong.

This is the thing, you can’t predict the weather.  You can get all those fancy models and watch that weather, but the weather has its own ideas, and we should trust our instincts, or even better, not worry about getting wet.  I’m not saying that the latest and greatest aren’t good, the prediction of tornadoes and hurricanes have most certainly saved lives.  It’s the everyday opportunities we lose out on because we went with the weather man instead of the weather.

In the end, some people would say that staying in my jammies with Eugene on my lap, eating cookies and drinking Pepsi all while crushing candy would be an outstanding way to spend the day.  For me, it left me wanting, and no doubt a few pounds heavier.