My Hollander dad was greatly amused every time I announced I could see dark, angry clouds over the mountains. Almost without exception, that meant the storm would hit our neighborhood within the next hour.
(That's one benefit of living by the mountains.)
Dad lived on a Michigan farm with very little visibility beyond a mile or so. (All those trees!) He thought this was hilarious. After a while, he'd announce, in his low, rumbly voice, when I mentioned clouds...
"There's a stormmmmm commming!"
Well, Pa -- there is.
We got a lot of rain, ice and wind last night. The Brick has been in Castle Rock, getting the truck repaired before hunting starts: ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS. And change. He's on his way home -- and the clouds are building. Tonight's storm is supposed to be even worse. Last night's was bad enough, with thunder and lightning, that even the dogs looked alarmed.
\
And I don't feel so good - woke up with a headache and sore throat that's been brewing. (I know. Gripe, moan, complain.)
I'll get a hot shower, build up the fire, keep working on reports -- and wait for the Brick to get home. Hopefully, he'll make it before the Really Bad Stuff begins.
Hurry home, Sweet Baby!
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