Storms and Stories

Monday, June 30, 2008 on Monday, June 30, 2008







I was in the middle of my garden this afternoon, when the first storm clouds rolled in. I knew I had about an hour's worth of weeding, hoeing, and watering of plants and vines before heading back to the house. I just crossed my fingers and drug out the garden hose.

I knew the garden would get the drink they needed if the clouds dropped on us, so I hurried to drench eight pots of flowers and
twelve hanging Boston ferns wrapped around my 70 ft. porch. Thirty-five feet on each side. Boy, if this old porch could talk. The stories it could tell. My grandparents and my great uncle Cecil would sit out on the porch for hours and swap interesting tid bits along with the gossip of the day.


By now I realized the rain was imminent. But I had more to do, so I put the memories away for a while and finished checking my garden. The tomatoes are growing like weeds, but still too green, even for fried green tomatoes. (Yum.)






The leaf lettuce, red lettuce, peppers, cucumbers, and squash all looked happy and healthy as well, so I high-tailed it over to cover the pool and "batten down the hatches" as grandmother would say.

The storm is rolling in fast and I can hear her plain as day: "You better get inside this house young lady. Unplug the TV's and stay away from the windows. And don't you dare think about gettin' on that phone." This old farm house has been hit by lightning so many times I've lost count. And she was good at reminding us. I can count many an evening sitting in the middle of the living room floor in the dark with only the sound of a portable radio ( no plugs, ha) and the distant sound of thunder. She'd sit in her big pink chair holding her fly swatter, humming some gospel tune until the thunder passed and only a few drops of rain water could be heard dripping from the gutters.

I had to remind my daughter of the windows today. She was too busy taking care of our nine puppies to notice the storm. She was busy washing puppy bowls in the sink right in front of the kitchen window. And without hesitating I heard my grandmother's words fly from my mouth: "Turn that water off and get away from that window, young lady."

I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

The storm blew over and all is well at the farm. We're cleaning up the puppy pen and washing puppy blankets this evening. I'm guessing I need to introduce you to my nine beautiful puppies soon. They take up a lot of our time, but it's just another part of farm life.

Thanks for the walk down memory lane. Have a good evening!