Monday, June 6, 2011
Rain drops keep falling on my head
As you know it's festival season for my mother-in-law's jewelry business, and things are in full swing (by the way, if you have any interest in what they sell there's a button for her online store on the left hand side and down a bit. ... Beyond Bella). This weekend they found themselves double booked at opposite ends of the state, one in San Diego and one in San Luis Obispo. Gina was sent north while her mom went south (lucky) and my mom watched the girls so I could go and help Gina out. The festival we were working was much shorter, closed at 7 instead of 10pm like the others, so we thought we'd have a weekend alone with a hotel room and restaurants and a beautiful little town to meander through. ... and then we found reality. A few days before we saw the reports that a once in a decade June storm was rolling into the area. San Diego would be beautifully sunny, San Fransisco would be nice, but right in the middle where we were? .... not so much. Felt a little like a scene from Tommy Boy; "not so much here, not so much here; but right across here." As we drove into the area and the ominous clouds got darker we knew it wasn't exactly going to be the vacation we were looking forward to. Surprisingly, despite the rain, we found the people there were incredibly adventurous. Many still showed up with out umbrellas, just hanging out in the rain and making the best of it. Perhaps they hadn't done laundry or taken their morning showers, and thought they'd kill two birds with one stone. Either way they showed up. Turns out the year before, on the same weekend, it was a 106 at the festival. ... they just can't find a middle ground. It was a little disheartening to get the calls from down south where it was a beautiful weekend in the high 70's. San Diego was gorgeous and the girls at home went swimming both days in the wonderful sunshine. I, on the other hand, see it this way: If rain soaked, freezing and on my feet selling the whole day is the only way I can get my wife alone for 48 hours. ... I'll take it. Like the old fishing adage goes "a shitty day on the lake is still better than the best day working."
at 7:19 AM