One rainstorm after another has coming sweeping in across the Pacific and dumped more water than the streets or sewers can deal with. Downed trees have taken out streetlights, transformers have exploded, and the debris on the roads is unbelievable. Driving I-280 on Saturday was like navigating a river in a high wind in a canoe. My little car got pushed around easily, at one point ending up halfway in the lane next to me when a gust of wind hit just as my vehicle hydroplaned through a long, rippling stream on the highway. Luckily, no one happened to be there. I could barely see from the water kicked up by the passing cars mingling with torrential downpours. I had a death grip on the steering wheel the entire time. I had two appointments which I desperately wished I had cancelled, but I hadn't realized quite how dangerous the conditions were before setting out and since I didn't dare take my hand off the wheel to find my phone I just got off the freeway as soon as I could and took city streets.
It hailed three times on the drive back, and I saw a nearly circular cloud-to-cloud lightening jump which was beautiful but disturbing to observe. I sincerely wished I'd stayed home. But since the appointments would have been a gigantic pain to reschedule I'm rather glad it's all done. Keiko has had her yearly vaccination, my teeth are achingly clean, my hair is a beautiful glossy chestnut, and I took advantage of a slight lull in the weather to hit Tower Records and pick up some long-coveted items with my store credit (the newest Steven Brust novel is the big score; I adore his Dragaera novels). I was quite startled, by the way, to see actual vinyl records in bins. They had old cassettes for sale, too, although they didn't go so far as to offer 8-tracks. The store was eerily devoid of customers, not something normal with so few shopping days left. It was great to shop without being jostled.
We have no Christmas tree yet. We put off getting it until the weekend and the weather was so miserable between the high winds and the pouring rain that we didn't venture out on Sunday except to walk the dog. I'm sad about it. I'm of the opinion that one should get one's Christmas tree at least two weeks before Christmas and hang onto it until New Year's Day. At this rate we'll be lucky if we get it the week before the event. I love sparkling lights and shiny things in the house. I hate to have the season cut short, though I'm getting a lot of vicarious sparkly goodness on my walks with Jasper. There are some astonishing displays of lights this year. Fewer nodding reindeer, I'm happy to report. Those things are creepy.
At least I've decorated the mantle with seasonal candles and a string of tiny, plastic lights which aren't electrical but give the place a festive air. And we finally have a fireplace grate and a firescreen. John came home with them last week to my utter delight. We've been trying to get these things ever since we moved into the house almost three years ago, and failing because we keep forgetting that in California fireplace equipment is seasonal. You can only buy them from October through December. Really. If you go looking for them in, say, March you won't be able to find them unless you order through a specialty store. It's a mysterious local tradition: no fireplace items after Christmas. I'm delighted to have a real fire at last. Well, okay, we haven't actually lit a fire yet, it's blowing too hard to make that a good idea, but the grate's in the fireplace with a log on it ready to go. Maybe after finals.
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