I was at the Pulse this morning when the downpour started, then the hail started. All of this with spectacular lightning. It was a glorious morning.
I had a wonderful Mother's Day. I heard from, or saw, all the children and grandchildren. I received some beautiful cards with very sweet messages. Regis took me out for dinner and I had prawns and salmon and a caprese salad. We came home to sit on the patio in the sun.
It was a good bird weekend, too. These are the birds I saw: Baltimore oriole, cardinal, rose-breasted grosbeak, gold finches and house fiches by the score, downy woodpeckers, and of course, robins.
I listened to The Moth podcasts while I walked this weekend. Some of them are so powerful, I weep. I heard one the other day, It was the Best of Times, from an episode called When Worlds Collide. It's an amazing story.
There are a lot of superlatives in this post. I must have had a good weekend.
As they say on The Moth, make it a story-worthy week.