Rare Thunder Causing Sleep Deprivation

At about three in the morning, a loud boom of thunder snapped me out of a dream.

Last time I checked the weather report, there was nothing about thunder and lightning; only rain, which—after years living in Portland, Oregon—I assume to be quiet, gentle rain. I rarely heard thunder in Portland, and when I did it was faint and distant.

I wish I’d turned on the light and sat up to read ghost stories, but I was very groggy and just wanted to get back to sleep. I wished to be well-rested before attending a matinee performance of the opera Maria of Buenas Aires, so I just wanted to get back to sleep. Also, being forced awake before a dream is complete always increases my grogginess, and I was extremely groggy. I drifted off to sleep…GRUMBLE! More thunder! I drifted off to sleep for a few minutes…BOOM! More thunder!

It’s easy to look back when I’m fully awake and wonder why I didn’t give up with trying to sleep. It would have been a really good time to read a ghost story. The thunder and lightning were so dramatic!

Oh, the Dreadful Wind and Rain

The sky is pale grey, almost white, and the Tibetan prayer flags have been dancing in the wind. When I woke, it wasn’t raining yet, and I considered collecting sticks and leaves to put in the yard waste bin, but I figured it’s so windy that dirt would fly into my eyes. After it started pouring outside, I had a better excuse not to do yard work.

I’m more in the mood for writing today, anyway, so I turned on my computer and just finished a round of revising a middle grade fantasy novel. It’s one of those really fun, escapist writing projects, a sequel to my self-published novel Rowanwick Witches, Lesson 1: Spells and Enchantments (which, incidentally, is available on Amazon.com). I currently have this sequel as Lesson 3, but I haven’t written more than thirty pages of Lesson 2. I intend to publish them in order and have Lesson 2 come out in October, even if I have to switch the numbers around.

The wind was so blustery and forceful today that it blew open the side door, and the cats got out.

Before I knew this, I looked out the kitchen window and saw my panther Haedrig, who’s supposed to stay indoors, out in the back yard, chewing on grass. I hadn’t seen petite Vita all morning. Wondering if they found a secret tunnel, I searched the house…and soon found the wide-open door. I’m guessing I didn’t lock it last time I took recycling through the door, or at least not the deadbolt.

During a downpour, I checked around the house, and Haedrig was back inside, glaring at me resentfully. Vita jumped inside through the open window, which I promptly closed. Back to writing.

Snowmaggedon

I live in a part of Oregon that usually doesn’t get enough snow to merit investing in sufficient snow plows, so when it does snow, three inches is enough to shut down the city. Recently we had a severe ice storm, and now we’re having what is locally known as Snowmaggedon or Snowpocalypse.

Now that freezing rain is coming down instead of snow, all the snow on my skylight slid off with a loud scraping sound. For a second, I thought the window was sliding open, even though it cranks open. I jumped, and my skittish cat Haedrig jumped and ran out of the room.

The cats and I haven’t left the house since the first snowfall…Wednesday, I think. It’s supposed to be forty-six degrees tomorrow afternoon. I shall venture outside if this truly happens…

It sounds like my spazzy Siamese mix Torte, Virginia, is rummaging in the crawl space. She’s so crazy. She’s a big, fluffy kitty, and this afternoon she was mewing while I washed the dishes. I looked up to see her trying to squeeze in between the top of the fridge and the bottom of a cupboard. All I saw was her big fluffy tail and her bloomers. She’s so crazy, but I entertained her with a bouncy rubber ball; she ran after it.

Virginia and her sister Vita are so into the outdoors. The past couple days, they’ve been doing the Mad Dash that housecats do…except they’ve been doing their version of the Mad Dash. They run all over the house, pound up and down the stairs, knock things over, and tackle each other. The tackling involves screams and hisses.

Birdbath

 

A little bird just ruffled its feathers in the tree outside my window; the bird is using the rain like a birdbath. Oregon birds. Maybe I should get a real birdbath for the back yard. No, no, I live with five cats…and four stray cats often visit my yard. Bad, bad idea.