Confession time. I AM A WIMP.
Although a certain member of my family reminds me at times that we came from pioneer stock--that our forebears crossed the mountains in wagons, overcoming adversity, braving the unknown--well, I gotta tell ya, I wonder about that. As you may recall from this post, I'm not really sure I'm in the right family anyway. I can believe she came from pioneer stock. Me? Hmmm...maybe not.
Pioneer stock wouldn't have lost as much sleep as I did in last night's wind storms, would they? A couple of days ago I was on a whine about winter's cold, snow, and ice. I'd been looking forward to springtime. Then we got a taste of spring weather--complete with high winds.
Suddenly I was ready to leave the wagon alongside the trail and head for the hills. Ready to burrow into a little soddy, and wait for--I dunno. Not summer. Summer is HOT, and I don't do well in hot weather. Just something quiet for a while. Normal weather. A little cold, a little rain. Occasional sun maybe. Some breeziness. I can deal with those.
But since I can't change the weather, or dig a burrow, I guess I'll have to toughen up. Really, I've got it made. The house is old but solid, the trees in the lawn haven't fallen on it, the electricity flickered but did not entirely drop out. There's heat as long as I remember to put wood in the furnace, and when I turn on the faucet there's water that does not have to be boiled to be potable. It's all good, huh?
But I need someone to explain all this to the dog, because yesterday and most of last night, as we were deluged with potential tornadic activity, he was looking at me like, "Why don't you stop this craziness?" He seems to think I'm pretty powerful. I guess he must have bought into the pioneer stock theory.