It hasn't rained here in over a month. Maybe two. It is so dry my hair crackles, and my skin itches. Still we managed to have an almost 24 hour power outage. Wind. Trees. Don't ask.
At first it was charming, going to bed by candlelight and giggling as we snuggled under the covers.
And then came the morning. Who knew the stove wouldn't light, even with a match? I knew about the electric ignition, but there must be a safety thingie in there somewhere to keep us caffeine-deprived sleep-addled people from blowing ourselves to kingdom come. Thank goodness there's a Starbucks on every corner.
We could see our breath lying in bed in the morning. We could have gone to my mom's to sleep - she had power. But we have down comforters and hats and jackets, and a very warm furry dog.
So we had an adventure.
And it has been beautiful, so many clear mornings with fog flowing along the bottoms of the valleys like cream. When Ally and I walk up the mountain I stop to gaze. She stops to do other things.
It's a spectacularly beautiful place to live, but if it doesn't rain soon things could get ugly. My daffodils are dry, the trees look crisp, the vineyard soil is cracked. The grass that sprouted in October when the rains began has not grown an inch since, and the hills, normally screaming green by now are just brushed with green. If you know a rain dance, now would be the time.