Gray Saturday

One of the things I miss about Cheyenne is THUNDER. I love a good thunderstorm. It doesn't really rain here, not like it does in Cheyenne. It doesn't just cut loose and pour down. The rain here, in Lima, is more of a drizzly type of moisture. And it doesn't come with thunder and lightning, which is probably good, because rain coming down in sheets here in the desert would amount to disaster. I've sat through "Conager" three times tonight, just for the thunder storm and hearing the rain fall. Sam Elliot isn't bad, either, but it's really the storm that I want.

Something else that I miss is the chilly freshness of the morning. I suppose I knew there wouldn't be chilly freshness, because I'm just south of the equator, at sea level, in the middle of a huge metropolis. The only thing I smell outside in the morning is car exhaust.

This afternoon, I washed some clothes in the wash tub and put Ms. Violet in to soak (and hopefully drown whatever fleas she might be harboring). The phone rang and I stepped out of the laundry room to answer it. Celeste stayed there in the laundry room, watching the drops of water fall back into the tub...you already know what happened, don't you? I won't try to guess what was going through her mind, or how exactly she did it, but Celeste took the washtub full of water off the stool. When I returned from answering the phone, I found a flooded laundry room, a soaked and shivering dog, and Ms. Violet on the floor with the overturned washtub. The only dry spot in the room was on a wall or in her plastic bed. She tried to rush out of the room when I opened the door, but that wasn't happening. I didn't need a soaking wet pup sliding all over the house while I mopped things up. She sat in the water for a while, and then finally decided she could stay in her bed and shiver while I put things right again. She hates baths, so I imagine this wasn't her best day. She smells "spring rain" fresh, though.