I love a rainy night
Our neighbor used to make her son go in the basement whenever there was a thunderstorm. My mother didn’t like me to be on the phone or take a shower because I may be electrocuted.
And tonight, Rich is out at his ridiculously late hockey game, I’ve already read all my RSS feeds and the weather is screwing up DirecTV so I have no choice but to go out on the porch and enjoy the storm.
I read once that some areas of the world don’t have thunderstorms. I don’t want to live there.
When I was little I was petrified of lightning. I’d try to crawl under the bed!
My dad managed to de-condition me of that, and now I relish thunderstorms. The one we just experienced was a doozy!
My mom loves to sit with windows open and listen to thunderstorms. I think of her whenever I do it.
I actually did get a shock from being on the phone during a storm when I was a teenager. My mom would give me crap about being on the phone during a storm and I ignored her because “You might get struck by lightening while on the phone” seemed pretty stupid. (Sorry, Mom.) Of course, then I pretty much got struck by lightening while on the phone. (You were right, Mom.) Lightening either hit the house or the ground very near the house and traveled along the phone line and exploded out the receiver I was holding against my ear (a white princess phone in my bedroom.) It was severe enough that my parent’s called the fire department who came out and checked my wrists looking for an exit point for the lightening. I still talk on the phone during storms though. I’m a slow learner, apparently.
We used to set lawn chairs up in the garage, open up the door, and watch the thunderstorms from there with my Dad.
I love that video; it captures not just the event but the FEELING. I love thunder and lightning; love it.