At the moment, I am fighting the urge to put my head down on my desk and take a nap.
Like many others in our region, I was rudely awakened at 4 a.m. by the sound of rumbling thunder. But it wasn’t the thunder that kept me from sleeping for longer than five-minute stretches after that. I kind of like snuggling deeper into my comfy bed when it starts to lightning and thunder.
No, it was the occasional ping of a hail stone hitting the roof above my head that caused most of the lost sleep.
I kept lying awake, praying the mantra, “please don’t hail, please don’t hail, please don’t hail ” — thinking about the vehicle and the two new hanging baskets full of beautiful plants that were all exposed to the elements. I considered putting the two planters inside the garage for the night, but then forgot to do so. And the vehicle — well, it has to take its chances for most of the warm weather months once the second Wrangler comes out of storage.
When I finally emerged, blurry-eyed, from my bed this a.m., I was almost scared to look outside. I was pretty sure it had — despite my pleas — hailed a few different times in the wee hours. But even the smallest raindrop sounds like a huge splat, due to the rubber roof that covers our upstairs bedroom, so it’s difficult to judge whether it’s hail or hard rain.
A quick glance out the window reassured me that the plants hadn’t been shredded and there were no dents in the car parked in the driveway. Sigh of relief — quickly followed by a big yawn.