August 26, 2019

We had quite the storm a few nights ago. George was watching the Little League World Series and I was washing the supper dishes. I could hear a far off rumble of thunder, so I stepped outside. Wow! Looking East, the sky was dark and bolts of lightning were flashing down from the billowing cumulus clouds. Cracks of thunder broke through the silence of the evening. I stepped onto our patio and sank into my lounge chair. More lightning, and loud crashes of thunder. The wind began; rain followed. I ran for cover.

We watched as the fierce wind made a good attempt at tearing the car port from it’s anchored poles. The guy lines busted and the cover strained to hang on. We watched in awe, as Mother Nature bore down on our little park. Yellow Foot slipped out the door, just as I came inside. She didn’t go far. When I opened the door just a crack, she was back inside.

Our front room television popped and went black in the last inning of the little league game. Then we lost power. We waited, thinking that the power would return. It didn’t. The storm moved on. We sat outside and watched lightning dance in the distant sky. We finally retired at 9:30, with no air conditioning, and this is South Texas. We opened all the windows and all the doors. At 1 a. m. the power was restored. We went back to bed and when morning came, the sun was shining. Our flowers and shrubs had been watered, and all was refreshed. We were happy to have television again and watched the final little league game. Louisiana won the championship.

We recalled a Christmas long ago, when our boys, Scott and Billy, were young. A snow storm knocked out the power and we enjoyed that Christmas Eve in the flickering light of an old kerosene lamp. Once in a while, it is nice to be forced to slow down and spend time, as our ancestors did, with no outside interference to tarnish our busy life.