There's been a lot of hammering lately in my neighborhood. I thought it was people doing seasonal home maintenance -- fixing up porches and installing new screens in sunrooms to get ready for summer. But today it hit me. My neighbors are building arks. And, as soon as Mike gets home, I'm going to suggest we do the same. I'll pack a box filled with two of everything we think we can't live without and leave it by the door.
It's been raining here in the northeastern United States for what seems like a biblically long time. I can't remember the last time I saw sun, and if the meteorological prognosticators see any in our future, they're keeping it to themselves.
Today's wind-whipped torrents remind me of a furious tempest that barreled in off the sea one afternoon when the kids and I were walking the promenade in Sliema, Malta. We retreated to our hotel room and watched the tumult through the wet glass of our balcony door.
Then the rain stopped, and God sent Malta a rainbow. I hope he's got one up there for us New England arkbuilders.
