Keep the Coffee Comimg

Around 2:20, something loud woke me up. I thought, at first, it was one of the dogs, but when it happened again, I heard the thunder and the rain. The rain was torrential. The thunder came in rolls. Both dogs looked up but then went back to sleep. This morning the thunder is still loud, constant. The rain is heavy. We could get as much as 2 to 4 inches. The coast has a flood watch. The only saving grace is the warmth, 64°. I chose not to go out to get my newspaper. I’d rather stay dry and warm. The dogs went out then hurried back inside. They are sleeping on the couch. Luckily, neither one is bothered by thunder.

The most amazing storms were in Ghana at the start of the rainy season. Everything was dry from months of no rain. The fields were brown with the remains of last season’s crops. The roads were dust. The water was often turned off so I kept filled buckets in my shower so I could take a bucket bath each night. I became an expert bucket bath taken. The best part was the bucket water was warmer than the cold water from the shower. My students would take their baths after their morning chores and before their classes. I could hear the sounds of the buckets being filled. I’ll never forget the lightning storm, the like of which I hadn’t seen before and haven’t seen since. It was during one of the first storms of the season. The rain water was so constant and heavy it had made rivulets in the dust. The ground was too dry to absorb the water. All of a sudden a bold of lightning hit the ground close to my house. The lightning was jagged. It reminded me of drawings of lightning I used to make when I was a kid. I was breathless, in awe.

I have little ambition today. I think I’ll listen to the storm, drink coffee and read the day away. The thunder continues, a rolling thunder, less ominous. I haven’t seen any lightning. The wind blows intermittently. It is a mighty storm.

The morning is cloudy, breezy and warm. It is 67°, unexpected in November. A long sleeve shirt is enough. Every time the wind blows, leaves fall like rain. The lawn is covered. The driveway has disappeared. Even my deck has a layer of leaves.

No critters today. Nala was out and back inside quickly. She is now having her morning nap. She is snoring. Boxers do that. Henry just went out, and he is barking. I’m going to get him as the barking drives me crazy. I wouldn’t mine if there was an intruder or an animal, but no, Henry barks at nothing I can see.

When I was a kid, the time between Halloween and Thanksgiving was boring. Every weekday was the same. I went to school, sat at my desk most of the day listening and learning then I walked home. On a good day I’d change out of my school clothes and play outside for a while. Mostly we played games on the street and stayed close to home. Darkness came early. Supper was always a meat, often ground beef, potatoes, usually mashed, and a vegetable, a canned vegetable, usually peas or carrots. I always slathered my potatoes and veggies with butter. We never had bread on the table even though most TV families did. I always wondered why as I never saw anyone eat any. I remember it was always white bread, probably Wonder Bread.

I loved it when my mother made English muffin pizzas or when she made fried dough for supper. They were often Friday suppers, the day we couldn’t eat meat. She’d fry the dough in her electric frying pan on the counter. We used to sit and watch. She browned the dough perfectly. I remember the top of the dough wasn’t smooth. It had little hills and valleys. The butter settled in the valleys. We’d salt the whole top. My mother couldn’t fry them fast enough. We always had a line waiting a turn.

I put trash in the car but won’t go to the dump until tomorrow. I do have to add more bags of trash, especially Jack’s trash, his used litter. It is always heavy. My dance card is quite empty. I’m toying with making some pumpkin bread. I need a treat. I did a small bit of cleaning yesterday, places usually untouched by a dust rag. I figure that’s enough.