Tonight, the air was thick with an impending storm. I hurried about the little chores that had to be done beforehand frantically. I brought in the waste cans, retrieved the mail, forced Tucker to hurry up outside. I started the dinner and called to make sure Steve was over halfway home. Then the gray sky turned black. Rain and hail pounded our little house while thunder and lightening chimed in. The wind blew the rainwater off the street in gusts as if it were snow in a blizzard. Tucker buried his head underneath a blanket. Steve worried about our window well flooding. And I agonized over my two boys being worried.
Our work out was postponed. Our yard work got a rain check. Our night instead was spent watching TV and flipping through magazines. The storm passed. Steve opened the window, and a cool breeze wafted in, replacing the sticky air that had been there. The stuffy, hurried, chaotic evening blew east with the clouds, and our house was turned into a quiet one instead: without a list of dos – without duties or lists at all.
– Rose Kennedy