Apocalypse, now?

I stand corrected.

Note to self: If one thinks they can stick it to Jack Frost (or the meteorologists), make sure one knows at what one is nipping.

At 4:30 this morning, I woke up to ice pellets pelting against my window. Plink, plink, plink, plink. It was fantastic, and I did think it was my just desserts after last night's rant. I did manage to fall back asleep, thankfully. But then at 5:30 awoke with a fright to a very loud, very deep, very house-shaking rumble of thunder. Thunder? In December? In Seattle? In a snowstorm?

There are two things that rarely happen here: 1) snow, and 2) thunderstorms. As I was lying in bed, trying to make sense of everything I know and repent for all of my sins, the room flashed bright and was followed by an immediate (and sharp) clap of thunder. My poor old house shook so much, I thought it may collapse. When I looked out the window, I half expected to see that the skies had opened up and started raining frogs.

No frogs, yet. But just in case frogs were in the forecast, I was proactive and worked from home.