When the rain comes

It’s pretty dreary here in the City by the Sea, rain falling in copious amounts. We’re packing Pure Luck up for his hike, which begins on Monday. He is in search of an extra-long sleeping bag liner made of fleece (not silk, never cotton), and I am wondering why he has waited until the 11th hour to decide that his old one is not adequate. We have also been investigating gear for #2 Son, who will be hiking with him for the Memorial Day weekend. How much can the boy actually carry? It remains a mystery.

In the mail I received a bill from Formerly Methodist Currently Hiptastic University, which tells me that #1 Son owes $20.48 for “Damage: General Area.” I’m trying to decide when to wake him up and interrogate him via cellphone. He had two performances of a play last night, one of which began at midnight, so perhaps I will let it wait until noon.

On a brighter note, my piece appeared on the Religion page of the local paper this morning. Woohoo!

Still to come: a trip to the grocery store for trail-appropriate food, to be cooked on Pure Luck’s awesome new stove in his fabulous new titanium pot.