I love Tuesday evenings. After an early start to the day and work in the morning, I have thenafternoon entirely and utterly to myself. I spend most of the time at home, tidying it up and cleaning, doing all those little domestic tasks which are so much easier without a little helper. Mount Washmore is tackled, and by the time the evening comes I feel tired but happy that my to-do list has been (mostly) ticked off.
When we settle back in the living room for the evening, I feel relaxed as I know that we are set up for a good week. Shirts ironed for Carl, fridge full, washing up done.
I am knitting Jessica a little hat ready for the autumn. It is from the book ‘The Childrens Year’ and is called a gnome hat…it will go on like a bonnet and has a long floppy point coming off of the crown with a pom-pom on the end. I am knitting it in soft red wool with a little sparkle in it. I hope she will wear it when it is finished, and when the cold weather comes. I knitted a few rows on it, drank several cups of tea, and watched an episode of House of Cards. Somewhere along the way, my eyes closed and I fell fast asleep.
Just before midnight, Carl woke me up…but not to tell me to go to bed as you would expect…but to come into the garden. There was something I needed to see. I was a bit hesitant as it was fairly dark out…and midnight…but I followed him out.
For a moment I could see nothing. Then my eyes acclimatised to the dark, and I could see a little…but not what I had been brought out to see. Then Carl gently turned me around by my shoulders so that I was facing our little house, and said ‘look’.
I couldn’t see anything apart from our house…until…sheet lightning flashed and lit up the sky. There must have been thunder as you cannot have one without the other, but it could not be heard, and there was not a drop of rain. A moment and then the lightning again. And again…and again.
From the scent of the air you could tell rain was coming, and the darkness seemed soft somehow. We stood together for several minutes watching the lightning. I have never seen anything like that before, lightning without rain and any audible thunder. It was so beautiful.
Jessica woke at 3 and as I settled her into bed between us, snuggled in the warm and dark, the lightning flashed again. This time I could hear the thunder and the rain.
It is moments like these in this little house that I love. Wondering how many other women before me have laid beneath this roof, watching the lightning flash and feeling cosy within.
This morning there is a pot of tea and boiled eggs for breakfast. The kitchen door is open and the cool rain scented air is drifting in. A lovely way to start a Wednesday.