The storm sweeps in suddenly, swaths of torrential rain reeling across the neighbor’s roof as the wind shudders fierce. Into the basement we flee, the boys all a tizzy.
“Do we get cheese? Do we get cheese?” Rowan squeals, and I am puzzled until I remember that the last time the tornado sirens blared, Brad had doled out mozzarella sticks as we piled into the closet beneath the stairs.
But then, as quickly as it gusts in, the storm fizzles to a smattering of raindrops and bolts jagged across dramatic sky, leaving a trail of tree limbs, severed branches and dangling wires in its wake.
...I'm over at Ginny's place today. Will you join me there for the rest of the story?
Oh! And will you come back here Friday to read my LAST post in the Shop-Not Chronicles? That's right, today is Day #365 in a year of not shopping!
*blows trumpet, throws confetti, cheers wildly, pages through September issue of In Style*