(With a nod to Little Richard.) All has been made clear. Dolly's rainmaking powers have been explained. It seems that there was a terrible storm on the night she was born in Pennsylvania with rain, thunder and lightning all the way to the hospital. Her parents recounted the story of their wild ride every birthday. The god Thor seems to have kept an eye on Dolly all these years and sends reminders. It's not Dolly's fault. Rain, anyone?
Joel stopped by to share some peaches he'd been gifted. White peaches are so delicate, ripening fast and bruising easily. Too soft to eat out of hand, how best to use these fragrant beauties? I had extra pie dough in the fridge, just enough to cover a cobbler. It made a grand finale to a dinner of leftovers.
Tree Guy, aka Go-To, replaced the outlets in the bedroom so I can use the plugs without fear of burning down the house. The power surge seems to have fried the satellite receiver, but the company will send a new one. With the potential for far greater danger, I got off pretty darned lucky.
It was a good day.
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1 comment:
Pretty darn lucky indeed! So, I guess you have to mark your calendar for Dolly's birthday next year and batten down the hatches and unplug everything before you go to bed??? Good birth-day story indeed!!
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