wet weather
One thing I didn't think of when I made my razor-margined plan for getting the back of the house painted and the beehive put up was the possibility of rain. Because, if I had stopped to think for a moment I would have realized that painting in the rain is not traditional, and there are probably good reasons for that. Luckily the weather was wonderfully dry all through the painting week, so much so that I felt I could put two coats on in one afternoon if I had to. So it all got done. And it pretty much hasn't stopped raining since.
Well, that's not entirely true. There have been plenty of dry moments where we were able to play outside, and while I wore rain gear for my commute three or four days this past week I didn't actually get actively rained on until the ride home yesterday. But it did rain some of every day—and even more every night—so the prevailing feeling around here is wet. It's kind of yucky, actually; everything is every which way out in the yard, with ladders and paint chips and weeds... not to mention the dreadfully neglected unmown grass clutching at your ankles or even knees if you dare to venture out into the lawn.
Today was actually the wettest day of the week, with consistent drizzle or falling mist all through. The kids didn't go outside at all, not even on the porch. They were a little energetic around bedtime this evening. It's cold, too; there were even mutterings late in the day about needing to turn on the heat (we went with the oven instead). We're told we may see the sun briefly on Monday, which is a vacation day, so hopefully I'll be able to get in some serious outdoor work done—if, that is, our busy social calendar allows. Oh well, how tall can lawn grass grow, anyways?