We had a terrific thunderstorm this morning. Surprisingly our light sleeper N slept through it. G, who tends to be fearful of such displays, kept thinking of "other" things that the thunder could be ("First comes a flash, then comes..." a 'garbage truck' or 'the drums' or 'a big train' etc.). Rod and I were in awe of the show.
Sadly, there were a few casualties:
My oft-used clothesline
A *very* large branch
(G's comment was "Mummy, can you fix it?")
My bleeding hearts....although, to be fair, they may also be a casualty of the five gallon pail of
salt water I poured on them.
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