This is me in November of 1964. I’m almost three here. We were in Fairbanks, Alaska, (according to the notes that my mother, the genealogist put on the back of the photo – Thanks, Mom!). That’s my Grandma Helen behind me. Isn’t she beautiful?
It’s appropo of nothing. I just like the photo. And I wanted a picture here. What I really want to talk about is the rain! I love rain. Within reason, obviously. This is not scary rain. This is good rain.
My whole family went out and played in the rain with me yesterday. Mark, being the smart husband that he is, donned snowboots (guess he couldn’t find his rainboots) and an actual rain jacket. The rest of us went out to get sopping wet. That was the whole goal. In fact, when I got cold and decided to head in, Panda, who was wearing a tank top and shorts, said, “No fair! We’re supposed to get soaked! You can’t go in now!” And then stayed out to help her father clean out the plugged ditches. So she wins the prize. She got the most wet. That being said, my shirt was still not dry this morning when I tossed it on the laundry pile. It had been hanging up in the vain hope of drying a bit and not molding any clothes it might come into contact with.
This morning, on his morning walk, Mark saw a neighbor who said that we got FIVE INCHES last night. Most of that five inches happened in a two hour period of time, with it pelting down an inch an hour. Okay, that’s what he told me, but the math doesn’t hold up. That would be 2 1/2 inches per hour. And I KNOW he didn’t say that. I was just mesmerized by his blue eyes and didn’t notice the math discrepancy.
What is most amazing to me about all of this is that our power didn’t go out but for about 30 seconds. I’m guessing that a tree limb simply bowed down and created some sort of arc but then popped back up and let the line recover. No, I don’t really know anything about electricity. It’s possible that this explanation is complete bullhockey. But here’s my thinking. The wind blows the trees about something fierce. The tree bows down, stretching the power line. Something must happen, right?
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. . .
Anyway, I loved the storm last night. I even went out in it. I went to Halloween Bunco! For the last three years, the same one of our members has hosted Bunco for this month (yeah, we jumped a day, I figure it’s along the same lines as Daylight Savings Time. . .) ANYWAY. . . We had a marvelous time. We laughed and joked and ate good food. We enjoy each others company. It’s a good thing; twelve women getting together on a monthly basis with no agenda other than to roll dice and holler at each other.