Greetings, my fellow port swillers!
Ol’ Robbo loves to play a little game with Ma Nature: On stormy spring and summah afternoons, he has a look at the radar just before leaving the office and decides whether or not to risk trying to make it home with all the side panels off La Wrangler. The go/no go decision is based on an average commute time of about 45 minutes or so and the track and speed of the various cells in the neighborhood.
If I win, I get satisfaction. If I lose, I get rayther wet.
Today, with storms rolling in from the southwest, I timed it to near-perfection, as the rain started within about ten minutes after I got home. (TRUE perfection is when I park in the garage and am able to scamper out to the mailbox and back just before the deluge.) But this time I also got an added bonus: As I took my usual pre-dinner shower, I started to hear a series of loud THWACKS! At first, I thought it was just one of the cats fooling with a toy, but I soon realized the sound was coming from the roof and skylights. Jumping out, I glanced out the window and saw that we were, in fact, being treated to a hailstorm of some intensity.
It’s been years since we last got any hail round about Port Swiller Manor, so this was a real treat. (Fortunately, it was mostly somewhere between pea and marble sized, so did little more than knock down a lot of leaves.) It was also very cool to sit out on the back porch eating dinner and watching the fog rise all around as the hail melted.