We are experiencing our first Albuquerque rainstorm, which was mostly all bluster and huffing and puffing until it finally started releasing raindrops. A quick check on facebook shows that my friends across town are experiencing a hailstorm, which provides yet another reminder how how varied the area is, climactically speaking. In a 15-minute drive you can go from high dessert to Rio Grande greenery to ancient volcano bed (the last one is closest to where we live. Yeah, awesome, right? We live by a volcano. An old one that hopefully won't pull a Vesuvius or Mt. St. Helens on us).
Speaking of Mother Nature's surprises, apparently there is something called monsoon season coming up, which I thought only happened on distant continents but apparently occurs right here in the American southwest, so this posting of excitement vis-a-vis the rain is likely to sound ridiculous in the not-so-distant future.
Anyway, I'm so psyched about the break from dry heat that most of the windows are open, and it smells marvelous in here. The rain actually smells sweet. Reminds me of being home at the farm, and running barefoot through muddy puddles in the driveway with my sisters. Anika didn't like the raindrops so much, but didn't freak out with the thunder, either, and has been staring wide-eyed at the blue-black sky and the flustered trees as I point to the mountains and show her the storm's progression.
Another amazing fact for the day: we are that much closer to nixing our refugee status, as we can now ditch the cooler for our very own refrigerator! Delivered this morning and shining with its own awesomeness, this cooling device will prove a godsend when it's 6 a.m. and I no longer have to stumble upstairs to the small dorm refrigerator we have in Armando's office to fish for the small container of milk that someone left with a fraction of a teaspoon of milk in the bottom. The bottoms of my feet are black from crossing the patio barefoot dozens of times to reach that refrigerator or the cooler sitting out back every day. Guess you just don't realize how essential a metal box with a cooling fan is until you don't have it, huh.
Speaking of, the laundry room looks like a clothes dump. Expect another domestic bliss update when our new steam clean (woo-hoo!!) washer and dryer are delivered on Friday.
God, am I really this boring? Anika, if you're reading this in the future, please know that at one point your mom had what was called a life, where she would meet her friends at cafes and bistros and discuss politics and international affairs while dipping her pomme frites into a pot of steaming mussels. And your dad and I used to actually go out on this thing called a date. Where we were fully showered, dressed up, and rode to overpriced restaurants in a ridiculously nice car that we parked valet so that I wouldn't have to totter too far on my ridiculously overpriced heels.
But don't get any ideas, now. You're not dating until you're 30.
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