Oh when, oh when will our summer come?

I've been counting the days to the unofficial beginning of summer. This past weekend was not what I hoped for.

The pool opened on Saturday, and there were only four brave souls staring at the water. It was too chilly to get in.

Sunday we went to an outdoor wedding that had to relocate indoors when the thunder got louder than the preacher, and the lightning got more attention than the beautiful bride. We scuttled in just as the shower turned to a downpour. 

None of us panicked when a tornado siren went off after the ceremony, because the music was so loud we didn't hear it. 

In the early dark hours Monday I sat up in a panic like a mom responding to a shriek from the baby monitor. My "babies",  (one) tomato and (one) green pepper were getting pummeled by hail. I rolled them way from the unprotected edge of the patio.  I was still picking little ice balls out of my hair when I climbed back into bed. Daylight inspection showed the pepper had lost a few blossoms (drat!) and even the cucumber seedlings were smashed. 




Tuesday night the wind whipped and forecasters predict an overnight low of 39. Yes, that's Fahrenheit, not Celsius. 

my tomato bundled in its winter jammies

 Even my husband is using the term "climate change."  

We are SOOO ready for summer. 

Maybe those perfect summer days we remember from childhood are only in our imaginations.