I never used to pay more than a passing interest to the weather forecast — it is what it is, and that is that. Winter is cold and wet, summer is warm and dry — enough information.
But now I have children I find myself checking the forecast obsessively because I need to know if we’ll be playing at the park after soccer tomorrow, or if the nanny will make the walk to the library on Friday. And my most frequent checks are for the weekends, because sunny days mean relaxed mornings at the zoo or at the park, but wet days mean grouchy car journeys to crowded, fuggy, indoor places like the museum, or the shopping centre (don’t judge; they have undercover parking, coffee, and the girls love that bright, sensory overload of consumerism). So we have a lot riding on that cheery little sun icon in the weather forecast.
Last sunday was a grizzly day; Matt and I thought we should watch old movies and drink tea however the girls thought that was a terrible idea. So we did some baking. We each had a bowl, some spoons and an apron, and ingredients were weighed and measured with care, and stirred with varying degrees of care.
It took longer to clean up than to do any baking, and Harper furtively ate far too much of Elliot’s silver dragee batter, but it was a lot of fun and our baked goods were a delicious treat.