I don't yet know what sort of summer this is going to be, but it is starting off on the cool and wet side. There was rain off and on all day, and the temperatures never quite made it all the way up to "mild" ranges. We are still a few weeks away from the summer solstice, but I'm already starting to wonder whether this year will be like the one right before we moved away from Colorado in the 1990s, when summer never really showed up. I suppose with a little research, I could get the specifics on how much rain we saw and how the hot days never materialized, but it isn't that important to me yet. If we are significantly off of seasonal averages two or three months from now, I might dig into the historical data.
Today was Creek Fest in Boulder, so the city was packed while we were there. We weren't in town to go to Creek Fest (although a certain progeny of mine was determined to be there and looking forward to it as she does every year, even knowing it usually rains on this event). We were supposed to go to a fundraiser for the CU marching band, to replace a bunch of the uniform hats that look like they had been run over by Ralphie at a few games. Before we could get there, the Mr had to do a few hours of handyman work for a friend of a friend. We thought it would take an hour at the most. Three hours later, we set out into the chilly, wet day, to see whether the BBQ was still happening, and if so, could we still get in and get food.
I saw a few folks I recognized from alumni band events, plus one guy who was in the band with me, back in the powder blue uniform years. (We used to have the same uniforms as the University of Texas band, leisure suits--"Sky Blue at 10,000 Feet" for us rather than Burnt Orange--with fringed gauntlets on our forearms, Col Sanders-esque string bowties, and white cowboy hats. What were they thinking?) There was food left for us, including Oskar Blues root beer floats in souvenir pint glasses. I felt bad for the band alums who were scooping ice cream for an hour in the cold. Most of us were huddled under a giant umbrella/pavilion outside of the alumni center, or trying to stay warm in the tent over the cornhole games or giant Jenga. Eventually we gave up and went inside the building, and wandered around admiring the historic house. (We can't remember whether it used to be the university president's house or something else, and I didn't see enough signs to clarify. I saw one that identified the artist of all the watercolor paintings in one room as Sibell Wolle, the woman after whom the fine arts building was named (a building where I spent a great deal of my undergrad time).
It's still almost four months until football and marching band season is in full swing. This was a nice diversion to tide me over until my favorite time of year, when drum cadences fill the air and I watch the band from the fight songs in the pre-game march-in, to the singing of the alma mater as the crowd exits the stadium. Oh, and there's usually a football game to watch in between band performances.
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