Which puts me in mind of a book......

Of the last three Saturdays it has rained, to some extent, on two of them, which definitely makes me think of this story I once read. I can't quite remember if it was a L.M. Montgomery story or a Kate Douglas Wiggin story, but I suspect the latter. At least, I seem to remember it was the latter. At any rate, the fact that it usually rains on a Saturday, when added to the belief on the side of the weather men that it would rain whether it was a weekend or not, makes that one bright, if chilly, Saturday all that much more amazing – especially since there was a parade.

I might as well tell you now that I was in it, and that the float I helped out with belonged to the Victorian Society, and having said that there is nothing really left to add but that I was colder than I wished but warmer than I expected. I was in costume, of course, and my family surly will remember how much effort my dear mother put into the dream dress that I wore. A decidedly summer dress, for a most uncannily fall-like day. But all in all the parade was fun, I loved being in it: throwing candy at children, watching the looks on the girls' faces as they were presented with carnations, listening to the fiddle being played right beside me. And it was just as much fun preparing, with paints and papers, hot chocolate and tea, and wonderful examples of creativity springing forth from every quarter. I never knew so many crafty people to gather in one place, but there we were.

Maybe I will one day look back on this time and wonder at myself for passing over these monumental events with such a careless form of acknowledgment, but really, if I was to be every day journalizing the occurrences that leave a deep impression on my mind I would never leave off writing. Last night one of the girls in our little apartment chased a spider out of her room. It was the largest spider I have ever seen outside of a pet shop. It's body must've been bigger than a quarter, and it was so furry and quick. Ugh! I hate feeling squeamish a over a little thing like a bug, but this was no little bug. It was monstrous. A mutant, equally likely either to give us extraordinary powers or kill us with it's venom. It was too disgusting to capture on film, and too sneaky to let out of my sight while I looked for my camera. But believe this fish tale of mine, it was a whopper.