Yesterday started a bit lazily and F didn't head off to the laiki until mid morning. By then the sky was glowering.
Good word that - glowering.
She didn't pay enough attention, went out in t-shirt sleeves and her red shoes (and jeans of course). I refused to go along with that. My bones said that was silly.
'Glowering' started flashing and booming, and then the torrential rain came down. I watched it smugly from my warm, dry place. The streets quickly turned into rivers as they are wont to do here.
Wont - another word that doesn't get enough outings.
F eventually arrived home in bare feet with her jeans rolled up. Her hair was stuck down. She hadn't even had the sense to take an umbrella. Her red shoes were dry though.
She gave me some photos from the laiki where the stalls straddled torrents and cardboard box boats braved the rapids. Fruit and veg were swept away in the raging flow.
Speaking of raging flow, someone's sewer halfway up the hill got invaded by storm water from further up the hill and a thick brown river with a distinctive smell tore across the street, combining with the rest of the floodwater seeking its own level, and flushed into the sea.
Remind F not to go swimming out here for a week or two.
The sun came out.
Overnight we were woken in the 'wee small' hours by boom-badda-boom-ba-ba-boom-bam-DA- BOOM
It wasn't your usual kind of rumbly thunder, or even the crash-bang explosive kind. It was more like a prolonged volley from a military firing range and it just seemed to go on and on and on and on.... We can't imagine what kind of lightening produced that or how many forks it had, but they were definitely all connected. In fact it had several goes at reproducing the effect over the next hour or so. Our door was shut to keep out the noise of a party when we went to bed, so it wasn't until we got up that we discovered it had also been raining heavily again.
Gardening got cancelled today. After rain, the soil makes F's shoes very heavy.
Today has been a 'slay housework' kind of day instead. I have supervised spraying freeing oil into the gate hinges downstairs. I have supervised cooking. I have supervised the turning of compost and cleaning of my litter box. I was not permitted to supervise kitchen floor cleaning but I'll check it later.
Hari Om
ReplyDeleteWell done on the snoopervisation, Tigger... and I am fond of older language and words. As for the badaboomeries, rather you than me. I am sure I was a soldier in the first world war and suffered shell shock... Hugs and whiskeries, YAM-aunty xxx (who is having just a tad of shoe envy...)
Perhaps you could find old words and start a 'use the word' challenge. Perhaps find words still in use but going out of fashion rather than truly archaic ones that nobody knows the meaning of, or which are regionally particular. Fz and Pz Mr T
DeleteHow exciting! I do love a good thunderstorm, from indoors of course.
ReplyDeleteSo do we. When we lived in Havant F and Mr T used to get up in the middle of the night to watch them through the big windows in the spare bedroom.
DeleteI don't have a Tad of Envy over the shoes like Yam said, I have a LOT of envy and would love to have those shoes. I love red and the round toes make for comfy shoes. I have wide feet and the narrow pointed shoes do not work... the storms you described, both of them, are what we have all summer long here. the hotter the weather the more of these storms. the good news is, they come quickly, and leave quickly allthought some last an hour or two. People from other places in the world come here and go out in brillaint sunshine and never check the weather. Us Floridians know to look at the radar and guess how soon it will come and get indoors at the right time. I have waded in water above my ankles in the back yard after a storm and an hour later it is dry. we have sand soil, it soaks it in like a sponge.
ReplyDeleteBeau said to tell you thanks for the advice of do his own thing, he said to tell you he does that better than any dog he knows, which might mean he has a cat somewhere in his ancestry. the thing is his Mama and Daddy are the same, once we put our heads down there is no making either of us do one thing we don't want to do....
Well, you look safe in your nice little nest.
ReplyDeleteBest place on a day like this. F even gave me a nice warm wheat bag.
DeleteWell at least the shoes were saved
ReplyDeleteAlthough the thought of walking through that stinky water makes me feel very ill
Glad you made it home safe and sound even if a tad wet
Fortunately the brown river was on the other side of the street. The shoes got tucked in the bag of bags (F takes her own cotton bags to get her veg in - much to the amusement of stall holders).
DeleteIf Ms F had changed her name to Dorothy (just for the day) she could have swum back to Kansas!
ReplyDeleteBoom boom
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