I had a rude awakening about 6:45 when my impatient husband couldn't wait any longer for me to wake up. He called me on my cell phone from downstairs telling me the power was off and he couldn't get the garage door up. Now what he wanted me to do about all that, he wouldn't say, so I drug myself out of bed, trudged out to the garage, found the step ladder, pulled the latch on the door opener motor, and screamed for him to "Get your ass out here and help me lift this door! Do I have to do every cotton-pickin' thing around here?" (I'm a real grouch in the early A.M.) Anything to get him out of the house and out of my hair. About five minutes after he left for Waffle House, the power came back on, so I got to enjoy my breakfast in peace and quiet. He stayed gone for a couple of hours, then went to Terry to visit his friend Ron. Except for the noisy wake-up call, I've had a very pleasant Saturday.
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I found out later that I had slept through a terrible thunder storm. Our electricity is never off for long because we're on the same grid as the Reservoir Patrol and 3 different fire stations, so we're always among the first to have power restored.

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Art's dogs and cats have decided I'm their new best friend. The dogs still won't walk past the median in our cul-de-sac, but all have been very affectionate with me. Even his old white cat Sirius purrs when I pet him now. Here's his menagerie in this order, Sophie, Paden, Burney, Sirius. Don't tell Art, but he may get these pictures next month for his birthday.

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