Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

Fallen twig

We had a big, bad ole rain storm over this past weekend. Saturday night, just when I was getting maximum comfy on my thumper-pedic, a redwood tree branch crashed into the roof just above my head making a horrific scary noise, causing the house to shake. The next morning I was wondering if that branch floated gently down to the roof like a butterfly taking wing from a flower or if the branch charged, dagger-like trying to make me into human shish kebob?  Wouldn't that be a hoot if they found me stabbed into my bed by a tree branch? Whenever we're going to have a big bad ole storm, I get philosophical about trees landing on me. Please land on my head and not just my foot or my leg. That is my big wish in life. Make this tree falling in the forest my final act.

Deck with crashed tree branches

On Sunday while Bella and I were strutting our stuff at the blue ball park track, off in the distance a child innocently attempted to fly a kite in-between frequent storms. This was Bella's very first kite sighting so she went completely insane, pulling and tugging at the leash, acting like she saw the infamous corgi slasher murderer. I could not get her to calm down so like any well-trained dog owner, I picked her up and carried her to the car all the while her clawing to get further away from the corgi-assassin kite. Once inside the car, Bella calmed somewhat though she was still shaking from her initiation of this harbinger of springtime splendor. 


When that branch crashed into the roof, Bella didn't even make a woof.

I've mentioned Bradley. Well, he is my new personal trainer. Every time he sees me, he says he wants to go on a walk. Then he holds my finger which he says is "too cold." ("Pull my finger, Bradley!") We originally started our walks with Bella though when a car (beep, beep) passes Bella (woof, woof) moves into a corgi frenzy, and becomes difficult to control unless you think controlling a corgi who's spinning at the end of a leash *is* control. I can't risk injury to a 2 year old or a 55 year old. At 20 lbs, Bella's two big handfuls of attack corgi and she has been brought to this earth to ensure that cars either go the speed limit  on our road which is zero MPH, or said cars clear out all together. 


In this photo Bradley is wearing a fashionable froggy raincoat (inside my house, go figure. I think it's his way of waiting for the next tree branch to float out of the sky). 


Bradley's birthday is today. He turns two years old.