It's raining again. I mean, like really pouring. Again. 

For the last 8 months or so, the weather has been pretty bizarre.  It started with a deluge in mid-October.  It rained harder than anyone around here had ever seen as far as I can tell.  It was incredible, beyond belief, etc., especially since it started while we were at a reenactment on a farm with a stream down the middle  Not often you can actually watch the stream rise.

Then we had a boring winter.  One humungous storm, but mostly it was dry.  Until maybe 6 weeks ago.  Then, Mother's Day weekend, it started raining.  And raining.  And raining.  Some places around here got something like 10 inches of rain in 2 or 3 days.  We're talking floods, evacuations, worst flood in 100 years, that kind of thing.  But the water has been slowly receding--more slowly than one might hope, since it has definitely rained on and off since then.

And now this afternoon it started to pour.  They are saying we may get a minimum of 2-3 inches of rain this weekend, and some places may get 2 to 3 times that.  It's crazy when the weather forecast for rain sounds like a snow prediction--if only we could occasionally get a light dusting!

So the rain made it pretty exciting when we went out to pick up pizza tonight.  Naturally it let up once we'd gotten soaked (in the 10 feet between the pizza parlor door and the car), so that walking into the house was a breeze. 

But I'm waiting for that voice to tell me to build an ark.

So, this was a heck of a weekend...

Friday night, Wendy had yet another of an apparently unending series of graduation parties. This wouldn't matter to me, except that as her long-suffering  loving dad, I had to pick her up from the party. And that wouldn't have mattered except...

I had to be in Providence, RI at 9 AM on Saturday. In my colonials.

So after getting to bed somewhere around midnight (and that's WAY past my bedtime) I had to get up as if it were a weekday, at 6. I'm too old for this.

But I dutifully put on umpteen layers of linen and wool, hopped in the car, and drove to Providence.  I was attending a symposium on the French participation in the American Revolution.  (If you don't know why I would think this is interesting, why are you reading this?).  The lectures were interesting, but I wasn't really in any kind of mood for them.  I was just too sleepy.  Still, they fed us, and that's not bad.

After the symposium, we had a mini-parade from Brown, where the lectures were held, to the RI State Capitol for a ceremony.  Now you might think that this would be an ordinary kind of parade.  You would be wrong.  You see, there was a Gay Pride celebration going on in the same neighborhood.  So we had random marching bands marching across our  route a couple of blocks ahead of us, more cars with interesting bumper stickers than you can imagine (sample:  "Eve was Framed"), and a whole fair, complete with loud music from the bandstand right next to where the ceremony was supposed to be.

Oh, and did I mention it was hot?  I mean really hot, like 90 degrees and virtually no shade? 

Anyway, as a result of the noise from next door, the ceremony got moved inside the state house.  So we marched up 54 steps to the front door (yes, I counted them), up more steps inside, and then up more steps to the second floor of the rotunda.  But at least it wasn't in the sun, and we were able to get a front row view from the balcony.  Only problem was, the MC kept referring to all "the militia units" in the celebration.  Well, no offense intended, but we're not militia! We're French line troops, and rightfully proud of it.

The ceremony ended, followed by another opportunity to feed, and then it was time to hike back to the car.  Oh, and did I mention it was still hot outside?  And for those of you who don't know Providence, Brown is at the top of a pretty significant hill.  I was joking that if we could have put a bridge in place between the second floor of the State House and the Brown campus, we wouldn't have to climb any more.  But nobody showed up with the bridge.  So there it is, the end of a long day, still roasting outside, and we have to climb this stupid cliff incredibly steep, tall hill.

Got back to the car and managed to get my uniform off (did you know that when you are soaked in sweat, your clothes stick to you so bad that you can't unbutton shoulder straps) and drove home.  Managed not to hit a turtle that was trying to cross I-495.  (I hope he/she made it).  And I had this really bizarre idea.  Without going into the origin of the idea, suppose you were to re-record the Bee-Gees songs using a Monster Mash/Dracula type voice.  ("Tragedy!  Ven de veelink's gone and you can't go on...")

BUT the weekend doesn't end there.  Stay tuned...