Gully washer and thunderboomer

"It's comin' a gully washer (interchange thunderboomer, too)," is what my parents say when it thunderstorms. My vocabulary has been inadvertently infiltrated, too--especially when I'm mad. Micah looks at me like I fell off a turnip truck (my parents, again) out in Arkansas when I use anything that isn't common language. Sorry I got sidetracked (like so often my stories do)... it's been raining quite a bit in the Texas Panhandle this last week (that was my point). Last Thursday, we went to dinner with the Owen family at the Plainview Country Club (so good!). I like them; they are funny and make great dinner conversation...no awkward silences at that table. They even laughed when my tea went flying across the table onto Micah (in my defense, I was sitting on the crack of an uneven table). Back to the story (Micah tells me I am the worst story teller...I agree, I stink...oh, I have a good story about stinking as a story teller...for another day), when we walked in it was hot outside, but while at dinner the sky went super dark and the wind went nuts. By the end of dinner, it was pouring rain. As we are walking out of the dining area, the power went out. We make it to our cars, and there are no street lights (thank goodness for polite drivers who know how to drive and Micah who was driving...I would have had a panic attack). I desperately needed gas, but no power means no gas, but we made it home. No power at home, either. Michael Phelps was swimming that night and Micah was not happy that he was sitting in the dark not watching. I was enjoying the adventure a little more! However, the power returned thirty seconds into his race and all was well with the world, again. Here's a few pictures to document our power outage:


Sad face thinking he was missing the Olympics

He makes this face when he doesn't want to take pictures. I call it his "frog" face.

Our brave boy held down the fort while we were gone!

Light source...it actually wasn't that dark and kinda fun!

Much love,