On one hand the thunderstorms are a blessing (I don't have to water the gardens). On the other hand, they are a curse (I can't mow the sopping lawn; the farmers can't hay). We have entered an odd period of "sun one minute, a storm the next" that has plagued us for over a week. I've given up worrying about staying dry. I have mowed in the rain. I have washed cat boxes and cages in the rain. Today I walked with Eliza and Kagen in Ithaca while it "Ithacated" (snizzled rained). Who cares? In NYS, you get wet now and then. At Lorenzo the other day, I met at least four people who admitted they--like myself--did not even own umbrellas.
It does make releasing cats a bit of an issue. I've been trying to get Tuffy 2 back to Valarie and Craig for a week now, and the heaven let loose each time. I just took him over today--finally--and we had a nice 20 minute talk in the sun while Tuffy (they have another name for him, and I blank on it now) wandered back and forth to be petted. An hour later, the heavens are booming and we've just had a downpour. I hope Tuffy was smart enough to stay on the porch!
When I could have used the gray day to keep the truck cool, driving a feral cat and her kittens back from Stray Haven, of course the sun decided to come out with all her glory. So I drove as fast as I dared to keep air moving through the truck, and immediately unloaded the family into the cool of the barn. Thank goodness I'm only 15 minutes away. But it's impossible to judge the weather this month.
I've let it all fold over me as so much circumstance. I'm not sure anymore if my steady calm and dark cynicism is a newfound patience or a backwash of anger. Furniture it took two people to move in, I've managed to move out alone, with no kicking or swearing, even when things get hung up in doorways or have to be hoisted into the truck. Today I walked up Buffalo Street with E and K without a huff or a puff. If there is one benefit of not having husbandly help, it's that I'm fitter now than I've been in five years.
So the thunderstorms are kind, to me. I may have to work in them, or around them, but the drumroll mirrors my anger lately, while still giving the farm (and myself) rain to cool the temper.