August 20

Friday, August 20, 2010

Collette was woken that morning at 5:58 by a very intent Puckling.

“I’m hungry, Mama. I would like some toast, and bread, and jelly toast,” he said seriously. “Does that sound good?”

Then, while OLeif slept in a little while longer, Collette gathered things together in the kitchen, until Puck scooted in to turn off the light.

“Mama, Daddy told me to turn off this light ’cause he’s afraid of lights.”

Over at the house, clear skies, and Carrie-Bri back to the baking and cooking, minus the cookbooks as usual, which somehow was always a good thing. She sang to Puck.

“‘Meet me in St. Louis, Louis. Meet me at the Arch.’”

“No,” he said.

“That’s it,” Carrie insisted. “That’s the words.”

Errands.

QT — snacks. Linnea was short enough on sustenance that, until she returned with a chocolate milk, she had been digging juice out of a lemon with a teaspoon and carefully slurping it down.

As Collette wrapped things up at the church office (in preparation for working there the following week) around eleven o’clock, Daisy-Jean came in.

“We’re getting a big storm coming in,” she said.

It looked so familiar. That same blanket of tumultuous dark gray beyond the silos and the fields. Collette had seen that look often enough. The winds kicked up as they loaded back into the Fit. And lightening split the skies. No rain yet…

Back at the house: mini burritos doctored up by Carrie, and fresh fruit, while she mixed up batches of cookies for Dad, who was leaving for Iowa at three o’clock the next morning.

“Dad said he likes my cookies, but he doesn’t want any more healthy stuff,” said Carrie. “So I’m making him fat ones.”

She also had two round loaves of sourdough rising, barbecue chicken and twice-baked mashed potatoes, and buttermilk cake preparing for dinner.

12:11.

Storm broke.

Raging wind, smashing rain, growling thunder… all the necessary goods for a great thunderstorm.

As the afternoon continued, Mom mentioned the possibility of her and Dad spending three weeks in Hawaii in the fall. She tried on her new black trench coat that Carrie had found for her while Carrie wore her red one, which was mostly the same style. And Joe took off to visit Charlie with Rose’s collection of Ray Harryhausen films, at her suggestion.

Meanwhile…

“I caught Trooper eating the rose bushes the other day,” said Carrie. “I guess it was partly my fault. I had put an egg yolk around its roots, because it needed a vitamin wash. But still… He was gnawing on the bush, thorns and all.”

Not the brightest bulb…

Francis had fallen asleep on Carrie’s bed for some unknown reason.

“What!” Carried exclaimed. “That’s how I’ve been getting the itchies!”

She hurried into her room and threatened to attack him with her pillow spray. He took off running.

For the evening, Mom, Francis (after having spent part of the afternoon with Creole and Puff ‘o Lump), and Linnea-Irish, were up at church for the presentation of McLintock.

Before they left, however, Rose returned and relaxed into her scrubs.

“Go check out my new plant,” she told Collette. “His name is St. George the Eighth.”

Collette wasn’t sure she knew of anyone who named plants except for her sisters. Come to think of it, she had named her own window plants back in the day…

And the only other news to report, from Rose’s community group, was that George Wintershine was allergic to garlic and onions.

Back home, Collette made pancakes for OLeif — with a crunch on the outside — while OLeif experimented with an iPad and a supercell worked its way in from the west. The thunder was rolling.

The snap of lightening took out the power around nine o’clock. Zap. The supercell seemed to be in three branches. And after the first had passed, the sirens started up in the silent darkness. A sound they knew all too well. Into the basement, Puck hardly ever breaking shut-eye in the process. It was quiet. Too quiet…

But back upstairs until the next branch hit. OLeif fell quickly into dreamland after checking to see when the Ameren trucks would come out for repairs: an estimated fix by one o’clock. And Collette watched at the window, the lightening never quite ending its perpetual flicker in the heavens.

10:01 — power restored. From someplace outside, Collette heard a ‘Whoooo!’. Someone was happy about their electricity.

And more waves of storm rolled in… though not severely so.