(Now I'll be hearing Lena Horne's voice in my head all day.)
Fence Guy and Third Son came yesterday and put in all the T-posts for the new fence line and laid out the rolls of fencing. The clouds were marshalling forces and the guys were racing to beat the rain. They finished up before the first drops fell, but who knows when this latest series of storms will be over so they can cement in the corner posts and hang the gates.
It was beginning to rain in earnest about the "old" bedtime, so even though it wasn't dusk yet by the "new" time, I went out to put the kids to bed. That was a good decision, because Lucy was down again in the middle of the pen, shivering, but otherwise motionless. I was able to roll her over and get her up on her feet, and ultimately guide her to her room, with many rest stops on the way. Poor old girl.
The skies opened up in the middle of the night, with blinding lightning and thunder loud enough to shake the windows. The cats ducked for cover, racing for downstairs, and Bessie Anne shoved up against me for comfort. The light show was followed by a tremendous downpour of either rain or hail that went on for what seemed like forever. Even though all the animals are under shelter, I always feel so bad for them in one of these storms. They must think it's the end of the world.
In this time-warped alternate universe, I'm doomed to be late. Waking up at six o'clock would put me behind, but seeing the sun (weak though it is this morning) and knowing that it is now seven really threw me for a loop. I really do know that, in the grand scheme of things, it's irrelevant, because I am the only one who sets my schedule. I must learn to be more flexible...after all, obviously time is.