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.
Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn’t people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?– Rose Kennedy
holly pelesky 
my blood pressure rose like 20 points during that sotrm. and i didn't even make dinner. just stayed glued to jim flowers and his weather forecast. storms are not my friend. and you should see the branch down in our backyard.
Sounds like the perfect storm! Kinda wish we'd have one in Colorado.