I realize that I only have a small sample size to deduce such an egotistical claim from, but the last time I saw crazy-ass weather like this in Toronto was the summer of 2005, aka, the summer that Pumpkin was born. Given that I am only one week away from birthing another child, I have concluded that every time I bring a child into this world, we are going to be subject to violent rain and thunderstorms. I'm not sure what the gods are trying to say. Nonetheless, we will now stop at two children just to save the city from future leaky roofs and basements. Currently, it is hailing in my neighbourhood, with a side of thunder and lightning. It did the same thing yesterday. Last summer it was so dry that I couldn't even grow dandelions. This summer, I'm recommending that our provincial flower be switched to mushrooms, and am declaring my yard to be the original breeding ground. I'm not complaining though. I love anything that saves me having to water the garden, even if all I can grow is fungus.
So yeah, still preggo over here. I need to hang on for a while if the renovation is going to be completed before the baby arrives. Ok, I concede. That dream will never happen. Things are happening, but it looks like we won't be using that room until late July. The fireplace was installed on the week-end, the floor is being finished this week, the painter is coming next week, and then we still have to have all the mill work installed. I'd post a new picture but plastering and priming is all that has happened since the last shot, which doesn't make for a dramatic impact. I'll post the floor by the end of the week. So anyways, if I can't make the baby wait for the renovation, I'd at least like it to wait for me to get my hair done on Thursday or Friday of this week. Not too much to ask, is it?