We overnighted in Bellingham. I had promised the girl the pool. The next morning, I marched us downstairs in our pajamas to breakfast. We quickly got our bathing suits on and swam in the rain. It was delightful. I had seen folks doing it at night and knew the pool was warm enough. The raindrops almost seemed to make the water hiss. The girls are absorbing swim lessons and playing with the concept that they can swim without floatation. They waffle between tenuous and confident. Then showers. This made us just barely clear the room on time. I frustrated my parents. But what are daughters supposed to do?
So we were left with a day of rain. There had been vague plans to return to Lynden for a raspberry breakfast, but since the festival was underwhelming, we mosied to the Bellingham Farmer’s market.