The persistence of rain ramped up to a mighty storm tonight, with winds whipping buckets of water about as though the whole house was being tossed at sea and thunder cracking hard enough to open the front door. I loved it, of course. I thought I would go to bed early, but the storm blew in a second round of tempestuousness just as I was turning out the light. I broke open the kindle and read Tana French, the perfect companion to A Night Like This. Tiu got out of his little bed and pulled his blanket near, snuggling down close by. Life is good.
Goodnight, bones.
Goodnight, ball.
Goodnight, blanket.
Goodnight, squall.
