We slog on with our writing, but life seems to be keen on throwing us a few curve balls. Here they are.
Strike 1: An old friend’s wife died of meningitis. In five short days, he was a widower. We were stunned by this, and even though we hadn’t seen him for some years, we took the time to drive out last week to Omaha and back on Thursday. We wanted to show support. Turns out there was some sort of cosmic purpose. He hid in our car on the way back from the cemetery to talk to us about his loss. We were glad to be of some small assistance, and hope that he will call on us for help when he needs it. He is now getting one last step-daughter through her last year of high school.
Strike 2: Global warming struck ugly and hard last night. We had a VERY scary storm with torrential rains and winds. We were lucky. There weren’t too many branches down in our yard, and we only got about 8 inches of water in our basement. Yes, we do have a sump pump, but the power went out for about six hours, so that kind of kept it from working. Today has been a full day of sawing, hauling, and watching water drain. Right now my house is open so that musty smell? Downstairs. Gotta let it air out, however. Dampness under your home is never a good idea.
I’m really hoping for no strike 3. I would like to think that my allergy to buffalo gnats (you missed that. We had buffalo gnats early June, and I am sensitive to them. You know me, the sensitive artist.) were strike one, and just like Dr. Who, this is the strikes I have listed above are off number because Steven Moffat revised this while I wasn’t looking.
Okay, so it’s been a long day with all the chores. I think we’re off the hook tonight for most things but drooling.
If someone could come up with a way to control the weather, I’d be okay with that.