You can push my buttons, jerk my chain, or rattle my cage, but if you ring my doorbell without prior notice, you do so at your own risk. It happened again. My landline phone had gone funky, intermittently letting some calls through, hanging up on others before I could answer, etc. The nice lady at the phone company said they'd send someone out, and the technician would call before arriving. Uh huh. I should explain that curly hair expands in damp weather (and we've had a lot of damp weather of late) like a dry sponge put into water. I have little to no control over my hair on any given day, but I do try to make an effort. Yesterday morning I'd been out to fill the hummingbird feeders and take a quick look to see if any trees were down. The storm of the night before was calmer but a light rain was falling, on my head, of course. Back in the house, gearing up for goat duty, and the doorbell rang. Crum. It was Telephone Guy. No warning. I got "The Look" again. I showed him where the connection box was, told him I'd be down in the barn, and went back to get the buckets. Glanced in the mirror. This time my hair looked like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket. Too late to do anything about it, the damage had been done, so I went on with chores.
Moral to the story: call before you show up at my door or risk facing the scary lady. You've been warned.
Storming again today. Oh crum.