Dusk. Dog and human fed and dutifully loafing. And the evening serenade rumbles in through the windows:
GRRRGGRGGRRRRRUUUMMMMMBLLLLEEEE GRBAM!
Wooo HOO! Lightning and thunder bouncing in through the gray skies.
Just enough rain to wet the pool’s decking and the houses’ roofs. But otherwise: mostly stürm und drang…rather little water. That notwithstanding: we who are a human and a dawg are mighty glad we’re not out prancing around in it.
Innaresting…I can’t tell just how ferocious this freshet thinks it is. NOISY is what it is, actually. Lots of crabby-sounding, grumbling thunder, but not a lot of visible lightning, and just a fairly conservative rainfall.
Hmmmm….. Let’s close them thar drapes. Oddly, I just don’t like the look of whatever is going on out there.
Meanwhile, in the Department of Idle Curiosity, let us look up my father’s people: the Chocktaw tribe of America’s South.
Interesting bunch, they were. My mother said he came out of the deep South. Apparently that was the case…with flair. 😀
He would never admit to being anything, genetically, but whitey-white. But all you had to do was look at him to know something was out of kilter with that claim. He had dark brown hair: so dark that when he slathered Brylcreem into it, it appeared to be black. Combine that with the most striking blue eyes, and…my goodness. He was quite a looker. He was tall, slender but well-built, overall a pretty handsome sorta fella. Came out of Texas and the Deep South.
LOL! My mother was genu-wine whitey-white: French and English. And where he was striking, she was unprepossessing. Nice-looking enough, but not so as to grab your gaze.
And what does that make me? Bland. Very bland.
