Zeus went a little off his rocker the other day, y’see. It all started when the Curmudgeon was tolerantly making the hour-long trek into the market in order to drop me off at Lucentio’s party, as well as to pick up Hostess on the way. The sky was clear when we left, and then the clouds thickened, and darkened, and the lightning came, etc. I didn’t think much of it; another brief cloudburst, bound to last about five minutes at most. But it persisted and the Curmudgeon and I wound up driving through enormous raindrops, eighty-degree winds that tore leaves off the trees (to say nothing of limbs; afterward, the roads were very green) and plastered cars with them, and of course, hailstones that really were, according to the next morning’s newspaper, the size of golf balls.

We pulled into gas stations twice. Yards were flooded, as were some low roads. Eventually we pulled up in front of Hostess’ place, where I managed to get soaking wet traveling the whole six feet to the door and greeted the girl with a very intelligent, “Hi, darlin’, ready to go swimming?”

Though we never did get around to that, seeing as the local pool was closed due to thunder (somehow, the market wasn’t even rained on) and the hot tub was taken over by a brigade of angry wasps. All in all, an interesting evening.

Mao stayed over for the night and we watched Memento, more or less, and then it was off to Bethesda to see The Fast Runner, the Inuit movie. It was about three hours long and a little slow in places, but really not bad.

This has turned into one of those “then I did this and then I did that and then this happened” entries; very sorry. But anyway, yes, I won’t complain about lack of rainfall any time soon.

Adieu.