This is how Mac has spent the last several weeks of rainy, windy, cold weather. Just staring out the glass door, depressed. Licking a dish rag with bacon grease on it. Sometimes, since he can open the door by himself, he would slide it open just enough to sit inside with his nose on the other side, getting rained on. Wishing it would all go away.
But today is in the seventies and life is good.
Except pregnancy throwing up is no fun with a cold and sore throat. It feels like I drank some bleach and then swallowed sand on top of it. But sitting outside on the yard swing watching the boys jump on the trampoline made me feel much better.