Storms in Mountains

When I got home I was dog tired. But by now the hunger was fading, so I decided that as I just couldn't face another haul up to Perinaldo I would have Mentos for dinner and call it a night. I thought I had prolly stored up enough pasta in my muffin tops to last me until morning. (Not a word from you, Lax!) And that's just what I did.

Rain was predicted for Sunday, so Milena was battening down the hatches, covering tables, locking green shutters. I sat outside for a while under an olive tree and chatted with Yogi. I sat on my bed and read, watching the wind whip up and the clouds roll in. After the dark came, a pair of cats screamed at each other a long time as loud as banshees and I wondered if they were domestic cats or something larger.

I woke with a BOOM! of thunder and Yogi barking. The sky across the valley was bright with staccato lightening in the night. I slept fitfully, but the storms kept rolling in with violent noise.

It was still raining when the alarm rang at 8:30, hitting my French doors almost sideways. When I glanced at the phone I saw the wifi was out. I stepped gingerly down one flight of drenched black stone steps to the driveway and one flight to Milena's for breakfast.