The other day, my brilliant husband (and I mean this literally, the man is wicked smart) was about to get in the shower when I said that I'd heard some thunder.
He responded with, "Yeah, but is there lightning?"
I wasn't sure where to hang the 'here's your sign' on him. He was showering, after all. And for those of you who are asking the same question that Peter did, there is NO thunder without lightning, my friends.
You see, the speed of light is faster than the speed of sound. That's why our parents taught us to count how far away the lightning was by timing the silence between the light and the sound.
Peter recovered nicely by stating that he meant whether or not the lightning was sheet (up in the clouds) or forked (aiming at us), because it’s dangerous to shower when the forked stuff is doing a tap dance across the road.
Uh huh. Cute but dumb. That’s how I like ‘em.
So tonight the Gold Canyon Vanilla Mint candle is glowing, an old episode of Ghost Whisperer is showing, and the lightning is flashing among the puffy night clouds, its rumbly thunder following close behind.
The television is silent. There are crickets and night birds, and I can almost be pulled away into the coming storm, lulled by the sound of the breeze among the branches outside. It is a lovely little moment, and I walk to the window to breathe in some of that great smelling air that comes with an impending storm. . .
Then I hear Peter cry “Shit, the internet is down.”
. . . and I am back, stormy adventure over.
Happy Friday, all. Hope your weekend is fantabulous.
And one more thing. LOVE with abandon and leave no words unspoken. Life is much too short, and when your time comes, you may not have a chance to even say "I wish I'd . . ."
Goodbye to Campbell Melvin, 46, dead from a heart attack while he was playing a soccer game today. He leaves behind four children and a beloved wife. There are no words.
And appropriately, here comes the rain.