The rain continued to fall, and the woman and her dog sat alone in the quiet house at night. Suddenly, from out in the dark, there came a tapping at the window. She had heard no car in the drive and no footsteps on the deck. Before she could rise from her chair, the tapping came at a window in another room. Hackles up, the dog ran to look. Following and turning on the porch lights, the woman could see there was no one there, but the tapping continued.... And she laughed.
The rain had brought out the huge pine beetles again. It's a once-a-year phenomenon. I remember how really frightened I was the first year soon after we moved here when I heard those ghostly fingers tapping at the windows. Steve was working nights and I was alone then, too.
It wasn't until the predicted storm really hit last night and I had lit a fire in the wood stove that I remembered, with all my preparations, that I hadn't tarped the woodpile. Hearing the wind rearrange the deck furniture long after I'd gone to bed, I had also forgotten to put that away. Drat. It takes only one foray out into the rain for Pearl to fall back into her "Fluff me now!" routine as she darts into the house. Being a manly man, Frank prefers to roll on the floor and dry himself. Bessie Anne waits until she's in the middle of the living room before shaking herself and then rubbing dry on any available furniture and/or the walls. Oh, the joys of winter are coming.