May. 21st, 2004 11:10 am
Excuse the interruption
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muckefuckLast night we had quite the storm. I was frying up meat for dinner when ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu unexpectedly called and broke the news that he might stay out West for much of next week. I had to sign off when it started sticking and burning and decided to go ahead and get the eating part out of the way. By the time I called him back, it was pitch black outside. I turned off all the lights so I could better watch the lightning flashes (no bolts, since most of the action seemed to be going on to the north or the west). At times, monshu, who was sitting on the patio with a scotch watching the hummingbirds at his mom's feeder, remarked on how loud the thunder was. I could hear the whoops of people in the street obviously enjoying getting a drenching after an oppressively sticky day.
When I rung off, things seemed to be winding down, so I called up my sister; they weren't. My chat with the BIL was interrupted by absolutely explosive crashes. The lightning seemed to be striking in the park not two blocks in front of my face. (I'm tempted to go out looking for shattered trees tomorrow.) I sat in a chair in front of my east-facing bedroom window and enjoyed the show while I got caught up on sis' summer plans and the antics of her sons. They'd had this weather the day before and it was then she discovered that their new dog is deathly afraid of thunderstorms. We've had dogs before that quivered and whimpered under these conditions, but not one that tried to break the goddamn door down in order to cower next to my sister.
After I hung up, I wondered how my workplace was doing. Three years ago, after a sudden downpour, several parts of it were flooded, the power went out, and they eventually sent us all home. When I got here, I discovered that there had in fact been an outtage right around the time I was chatting withmonshu. It had screwed up a staff elevator, so we were informed there would be a blackout at 10 a.m. (of uncertain duration) in order to repair it. We dutifuly shut down our PCs in preparation. 10 a.m. became 10:30 a.m.; 10:30 came and went. Finally, around 10:45--right about when I had an interview scheduled--the lights went out.
I felt sorry for the poor girl, who'd arrived at 10 a.m. and been forced to sit around in the office while the electricians dicked around. We had fun, at least--a chat between me and a co-worker turned into a little Kaffeeklatsch (sadly, without the pastry) as others gathered around to hear his humourous tales of youthful church-going and such. Say, does anyone know a good place to buy rosaries in the City of Chicago?
monshu unexpectedly called and broke the news that he might stay out West for much of next week. I had to sign off when it started sticking and burning and decided to go ahead and get the eating part out of the way. By the time I called him back, it was pitch black outside. I turned off all the lights so I could better watch the lightning flashes (no bolts, since most of the action seemed to be going on to the north or the west). At times, monshu, who was sitting on the patio with a scotch watching the hummingbirds at his mom's feeder, remarked on how loud the thunder was. I could hear the whoops of people in the street obviously enjoying getting a drenching after an oppressively sticky day.When I rung off, things seemed to be winding down, so I called up my sister; they weren't. My chat with the BIL was interrupted by absolutely explosive crashes. The lightning seemed to be striking in the park not two blocks in front of my face. (I'm tempted to go out looking for shattered trees tomorrow.) I sat in a chair in front of my east-facing bedroom window and enjoyed the show while I got caught up on sis' summer plans and the antics of her sons. They'd had this weather the day before and it was then she discovered that their new dog is deathly afraid of thunderstorms. We've had dogs before that quivered and whimpered under these conditions, but not one that tried to break the goddamn door down in order to cower next to my sister.
After I hung up, I wondered how my workplace was doing. Three years ago, after a sudden downpour, several parts of it were flooded, the power went out, and they eventually sent us all home. When I got here, I discovered that there had in fact been an outtage right around the time I was chatting with
monshu. It had screwed up a staff elevator, so we were informed there would be a blackout at 10 a.m. (of uncertain duration) in order to repair it. We dutifuly shut down our PCs in preparation. 10 a.m. became 10:30 a.m.; 10:30 came and went. Finally, around 10:45--right about when I had an interview scheduled--the lights went out.I felt sorry for the poor girl, who'd arrived at 10 a.m. and been forced to sit around in the office while the electricians dicked around. We had fun, at least--a chat between me and a co-worker turned into a little Kaffeeklatsch (sadly, without the pastry) as others gathered around to hear his humourous tales of youthful church-going and such. Say, does anyone know a good place to buy rosaries in the City of Chicago?
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That dog is the twitchiest I've ever met. I guess it's no big surprize given her early history. It would be more endearing if she wasn't so big and badly socialized.
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