The northwest corner of my city got pounded this afternoon with a stationary thunderstorm. Nearly 2 inches in just over an hour. Which means my flower buckets might be a bit bedraggled.
It barely sprinkled 4 miles away. But I could hear the thunder!
The Tribune mentioned one specific neighborhood the severe thunderstorm was in. (I forget what it was. Logan Square?)
I did not move here for the weather, but realized when I walked outside today what a lovely fringe benefit it was.
You know, if I could ever remember your real name, I could call you up and invite you to lunch.
And you called Lee lame?
I say unto ye, thhhhpppptttt. I also think there's a David Allan Coe song lurking about in this convo.
UR NAME, LET ME CALL YOU IT.
For megan, "I'M IN UR CITY, HIDIN MI NAME"
Timelies all!
{{{Fred Pete and Hubs}}}
It's typical summer weather here in DC. Hot and humid, with a possibility of thunderstorms.
I remember standing on Loyola Beach watching it storm on the southside.
(We were in sun.)
Meanwhile, it's down to 78 here.
Freaky raven tricks.
Inherit her money text adventure game.
The enemies of books.
Portrait a day. Damn, I really want to do something like that. Maybe not a day--definitely not a day. But a week, maybe. Or something like this.