The temperature dropped, some hail fell, and we turned the heat on again. This weekend looked more like November than May, but from freeze warnings last night, it'll climb back up to 80 degrees by Wednesday. Ah, the Midwest. You really do have to love it or leave it.
The good thing about the recent cold snap is it likely delayed the plague of cicadas due to hit us this summer. The bad, however, was my overall "f#@k it" attitude Saturday evening when the rain cleared and the sun came out at last for what could have been a pleasant run. Instead, I walked the dog.
Sunday was more of the same cold and dreary weather and filled with Mother's Day gatherings and repeated encounters with very long lines. Running trails was usurped by running around, buying greeting cards and plants, then fending off the urge to punch a manager at Panera Bread in the face, or rather coaxing my "hangry," five months pregnant wife not to do the punching.
We visited with Mrs. Viper's family in the morning and early afternoon and then mine in the early evening for dinner. It was enjoyable, albeit slothful weekend. You'll have that.
[Ed. note: Not sure how universally understood is the word "hangry," a portmanteau of hungry and angry, but there you have it.]