01/15/2022

The sun is out, but the sky is starting to get that grey feeling of foreboding weather. The predictions for us are all over the map. Initially the projections were for 14 inches of snow, but now we see the possibility of heavy snow, then ice, then more snow. Treacherous conditions for sure. Regardless of the various predictions, we wait and see.

Our small town advised no travel at all tomorrow except in the case of an emergency. They anticipate it will take longer to clear the roads since so many departments are impacted by COVID absences.

I do anticipate we will lose power, cell and cable/WiFi. We have already received advisements from those providers to prepare for the potential.

We are fortunate to have an almost whole house generator, set for automatic switch over. We called earlier in the week to have our propane tank filled in the event we lose power, so we are prepared.

If this all comes to fruition, I expect to be out of communication until all the services are put back online and that will not happen until the roads are safe.

If you are in the path of this storm they have named Izzy, please take care. It has the potential for some major impacts. I am keeping everyone in my thoughts – especially those with no alternative sources of heat.

I have new books on my Kindle. Soon I will be off to make a big pot of chili. Perfect meal for winter weather.

Stay safe everyone.

Today’s post is a combination SoCS and a JusJoJan (rules here) post, both hosted by the lovely and talented Linda Hill. Check out Linda’s place to get the scoop on SoCS and check out all the great responses.

Today’s prompt is as follows:

Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “a rainy day.” Write about the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the phrase “a rainy day.” Enjoy!

🎶 Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain…🎶

Remember that song by the Cascades? I love the rain.

I live in the foothills of the Blue Ridge mountains but I grew up in a small valley nestled between three mountains. I loved (and still love) a gentle mountain rain. The kind you get caught in that slowly soaks you from head to toe. The kind of rain that comes on a warm summer day or urges the leaves off the trees in the fall. It is the nostalgic rain that lulls you into a place of good memories and fond thoughts.

I remember so well sitting on the porch at my grandmother’s and watching the rain fall. My sisters and I would lean over the porch wall and ‘wash’ our hair in the rain.

I remember a first kiss on a summer day when soft drops of rain fell from a seemingly cloudless sky. Maybe the first kiss of young love should always be reserved for a warm summer rain.

I remember swimming in the creek and seeing the rain start to move across the mountain. We ran hard to outrun the rain even though we were already as wet as could be.

I remember going home as an adult and deciding to take a walk. “It looks like rain” my dad called out to me. Soon the sky opened up and I took shelter on the porch of an abandoned house. It wasn’t long until I saw my father’s car. He came to save me. It wasn’t the first time he had rescued me. I miss him.