My mother-in-law called me earlier. She told me it was 63 degrees in New Hampshire, but it was raining.
Everything before the comma was good natured taunting – it’s still seat sticking hot here. Vinyl seats are cruel and unusual punishment. I think the raining bit was supposed to cushion the blow, but I’m the odd Floridian who doesn’t like this much sun.
I would replace the but with an and. It would be all taunt. My face would strain with the effort to contain my grin.
There’s hope on the horizon though – storm clouds blowing in. We’ll get the rain part right tonight. It’ll be a few months until I can enjoy it properly: on the front porch in an old pair of sweats, listening to the trees absorb thousands of tiny flicks from the sky. It’s coming up quick though – my favorite time of year.
I can’t wait.
Ok, I can. I just don’t want to.