Fortune favours the brave when going on a Mother's Day picnic.
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I confidently report this "fact" now that Mother's Day has passed, and it didn't rain.
It was line ball heading into last Sunday.
Possible showers suggested we could roll the dice and get wet.
Or cancel at short notice and pivot.
To what, it wasn't exactly clear.
Plan B is never exactly clear when picnic Plan A is the only plan.
Rightly or wrongly, last minute cancellation seemed likely to substantially diminish Mother's Day happy time.
Happy time being measured not just in terms of bloody-minded determination to get wet. But also time-honoured desire to honour mum's existence by making an effort.
Make that multiple existences if you throw in nan, which we were doing on our "two mums with one picnic". A multi-generation initiative that theoretically halved effort.
Not that our majestic matriarchs want you to make a fuss. Every day is Mother's Day right? But the second Sunday of May is actually marked on the calendar. Having a plan suggests you remembered this.
Our plan involved selecting a picnic spot equally inconvenient for all parties to travel to. And then factoring in food that was edible. Or failing that, gluten free. Also chairs, that didn't break. Utensils, washed since last picnic. And access to restrooms, clean barbecue plates and sticks to beat off the madding crowds, if necessary.
On the bright side, madding crowds might be down due to bleak forecast.
Overlooking any of the above wouldn't necessarily mean "everything was ruined".
It just might seem that way if you forgot sugar for nan's tea.
Given the multiple organisational balls in the air, a spreadsheet might have helped.
Failing that, a tablecloth - some of those public picnic tables can get pretty grungy.
Or better still, a tarp. Before we even set off, possible showers placed all other considerations under a cloud, literally.
Logistical texts exchanged the night before and morning of, about whether to cancel or not, were certainly foggy.
It all turned on that 70 per cent possibility of moisture in the 1mm to 5mm range falling over the next 24 hours. What chance exactly during Sunday lunch?
Pretty high, we concluded after consulting Murphy's Bureau of Meteorology.
On the other hand, what chance of coming up with a better Plan B at short notice?
We didn't need Murphy for that one.
With that in mind we proceeded at our peril, and as it turned out, there was no peril Beryl.
Just a few spits during a FaceTime catch-up which we attributed to low-flying kookaburras. An occupational hazard in the picnic field.
Fortune favoured the brave, proving once again that family get-togethers are the ultimate expression of optimism.
And just as it should be, the only thing that reigned on our Mother's Day picnic was good vibes.