The weather report for the entire weekend looked dismal and grim. Rain was scheduled for Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and though I’m loath to take those reports with anything but a grain of salt, it looked best to expect and prepare for the worst. Fantasies of a spring fashion wonderland would need to wait for another weekend. Still, one has to hope for a glimpse of sunlight, or at least wear a Burberry trench to make the best of it. It also helps to have an arsenal of peppy scents to brighten the mood.
To that end, and our anniversary weekend beginning, a bit of Tom Ford’s ‘Venetian Bergamot’ was in order. It had been a birthday gift from Andy on my 40th, and one that still takes me back to the Judy Garland suite at the Lenox Hotel, where we were greeted with a lion and a bottle of champagne.
Itinerary in tow (Andy likes a plan just as much as I do, thank you very much) we made a soft landing into town, relaxing into the weekend after a rainy drive. So far, the wet stuff was not affecting Boston. Buffeted by the sea, we were somehow skirting the showers, but the threat of rain was omnipresent in the gray skies, so we stayed close to the condo. It remains the best place to be during a storm.
While the April showers extended their stay into this month, the May flowers refused to be daunted, and for the remainder of our weekend the flowering trees and bulbs would make a dreamy backdrop for all our Boston enchantment.
A chartreuse bleeding heart lit up our walk along the Southwest Corridor Park, while a canary poppy nodded its wet head, shaking off the rain and beaming in radiance. We headed to the harbor, and all felt right with the world…
{To be continued…}
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