this and that

After such a long hiatus, I feel a bit like a trespasser here…

So my life, since last report, has been an odd hodge-podge of chaos and mild annoyances: Rain. Tornado warnings. Miller Moths. Dog hair. Overtime. Web coding.

These, for 10 days, have dominated.

The weather here in Northern Colorado has been stormy, day-after-day-after-day. I love storms – love the departure from the predictability of lackluster Seattle weather. The heavy rains, the roar of thunder, the lightening, hail, even tornado warnings … for all these I have a fascination.

I woke up the other night at 2:00am to thunder that seemed to nearly pierce the walls of our little house. Being a Northwesterner, historically exposed to passionate weather all of once a year, I’m not always so sure just when to be frightened.

So I alternate… between being fully captivated (at 2:00am, huddled on the front porch watching the storm with awed absorption) … to, moments later, anxiously shaking my poor sleeping husband to see if we should seek shelter.

And so, it’s been a memorable June. A month where, after some time, my life here is taking on a realness and pattern that begins to resemble the feeling of home. And my job, nearing the 5-week mark, is a constant reminder of just how good God has been to us.

Last week, for 60, possibly 70 hours, we launched a new website at work. I have not yet recovered the mislaid hours of sleep, and yet, I feel, inexplicably … good.

Though, I now know better than to gripe about adjusting to a 40-hour work week. God, apparently, has been reading my whining blog and in an effort to muffle the bellyaching, ordered up the double-dose of “Nine to Five”.

And so, I got the message, loud and clear. BRING ON 9-5.

So I’m happy … about stormy June’s, about mega over-time … but, I cannot, WILL NOT, embrace Colorado’s most prolific nuisance … the Miller Moth. Our house, possibly because it’s 110 years old, or perhaps because we’re sandwiched between a lake and an alfalfa field - whatever the case, these winged annoyances have been bunking in droves inside (ahem, INSIDE!) our house.

I’m not particularly creeped out by bugs. I kill my own spiders. I like camping. I don’t squeal at 8-legged creatures.

But, I DO NOT like sharing my house - my bedroom, my sheets, my clothing, my drinking water - with fluttering furry bugs. I don’t like wiping bug marks off walls. Or vacuuming bugs from walkways, ceilings, window sills.

These creatures, they are not Colorado’s most pleasant feature.

Between the moths and our dogs’ seasonal shedding of their entire (so it seems) coats … I’m half-temped to abandon all attempts at home cleanliness and cuteness and instead just pitch a tent in the dining room - embrace outdoor living, open up the ceiling, sleep beneath the stormy skies. Doesn't sound half-bad.

Once again, as I write, it's storming outside. Bolts of lightening rattling from the sky. I'm off to watch the show...