So this weather has been a peach, hasn’t it? Peter says it’s a jet-stream that’s usually over northern Ontario that’s causing all the rain.
I say, who invited the jet stream, and how do we get it to go away?
Although I am a huge fan of a wicked electrical storm, living in the wilds of Lanark County sometimes gets us more storm activity than we really want.
Take this week for instance. On Monday, there was a wicked storm running through our parts.
The cloud that came first was the kind of cloud that makes you stop what you’re doing and go look out the window. It was the kind of cloud that makes you wonder if you should go hide under something in the basement.
It was big, black and scary. A rumbling followed the cloud, announcing its presence with a cacophony of deep bass tones from the roiling thunder behind the cloud. I walked outside to see if I could see the end of the black blanket coming at Carleton Place with a lazy but purposeful speed. The thunderous cracks echoed through woods behind us, their song long and lonely before blending into another roll of thunder up in that monster of a storm.
I couldn’t see the back end of the cloud. Uh oh.
Still, I didn’t close any windows or doors. The rain hadn’t started yet, and like I said I do love a good storm.
So, it was rather surprising when that big ol’ baddie black cloud barely scattered a drop of rain before it was gone. Should have known it was just a bully, all bark and no bite.
But that also means that we figured the storm had passed over us. Yay. Where’s the sun?
Sun? Helllllooooooooo . . . sun? Yeah, that’s been a rarity this summer, hasn’t it?
Once the black cloud moved on, the other clouds came in its wake. It seemed that they came from all directions at once, as if they were coming together in a rugby game, ready to clash heads and see which of them could make the most noise.
I knew it was time to shut down the computer and had started doing so when there was a crack of lightning tremendous enough to make me jump.
And that’s when the lights went out.
Cursing aside, I sat back and waited for the power to blink back on. Good thing I didn’t bank on that wait.
I eventually moved to the sunroom, where I sat in a corner and read while the light was still bright enough. Peter joined me eventually and we just kind of stared at each other.
It even took us a moment to decide what we were going to do for dinner. Do we go out? Just have the rapidly melting ice cream in the freezer? Luke-warm yogurt?
Every thing we thought of doing (laughingly) required electricity. It’s amazing how dependent we are on power, how long it takes us to realize – okay – we either nap, or read. Until it gets dark – then I guess we nap.
Did I mention it was only 5:00 p.m.?
Luckily, brains kicked in (for Peter, of course) and he suggested we barbecue for dinner. How simple it was! And it took was a power outage to realize we needed no power for dinner. Oy.
Nobody said we power-dependent humans were bright without our light bulbs.
