We've been treated (see? it's all in the word you choose to use) to some pretty spectacular lightning storms over the past week. Last night's and the night before's produced some dangerous conditions with power outages, fallen trees, live wires down, and that kind of thing. I've never thought to take a picture of lightning so I had to resort to Google images to find the amazing shot above. Our lightning was impressive, but not that impressive. (Photo removed for lack of sourcing.)
As the evening wore on, the rain intensified and the humidity levels were sucking the life (hmmm, how could I say that more cheerfully?) out of us all, John sat looking dispirited and then brightened, "Do we have any root beer left?" I shook my head no; he looked downcast and disbelieving.
"What?! Do I have to explain where every single one of those twelve cans went?" I asked.
Yes, things are like that around here. The last traces of ice cream disappear from the box, the last of the M&Ms goes missing, the final crumb of cake, and so on. I am usually blamed, but then I usually am to blame. It's my duty as a good homemaker to tidy up, don't you agree?
Anyway, I had a suggestion for John — how about some orange crush floats like Judy's? I had thought of them all day. It's wonderful to be married to a man who takes to a suggestion so well because our evening nearly ended in a perfect creamsicle haze.
Nearly. We are using a monitor system with Nan so that we can hear her should she need anything in the night. Just as we were nicely dozing off, the snap and crackle of the monitor began. "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty." We groaned and rolled over. Just as we were about to sail for Dreamland again..."KITTY, KITTY, KITTY." And on and on and on it went interspersed with "Sarah, where are you?" At that point, we just dissolved into giggles. This morning, Nan laughed so at the retelling of the story. It was good to hear her laughter again.
So many have asked about my mother that I wanted to give a brief update. Today she has begun her chemo treatments. (The cellulitis in her leg really postponed her chemotherapy.) She has been through chemo-like treatments before for her rheumatoid arthritis and went toxic on it. We are praying a lot and believing for the best, but we know that the next twenty-four hours will be telling. Thankfully, my grandmother has forgotten that today is the day. I'm thinking that it's God's mercy on her as, even at nearly 100, she is an extremely overprotective mother.
Stay cool out there and thank you for your wonderful visits. They are immensely cheering and I appreciate everyone's comments and emails more than words could express.