Thunderstorms

I just adore thunderstorms. I don't know why that is, it just is. I've loved them ever since I can remember. I love the sound of rain pelting down on a tin roof. I love the flashes of light followed by deep rumbles or sudden, ear-splitting cracks.

One of my fondest memories of home is sitting out on the patio with a hot cup of tea, watching the lightening, and listening to the rain pelt down. It was calming and humbling.

Last night, shortly before I left work at 5pm, Ottawa was hit with a wicked thunderstorm. Lightning, thunder, torrents of rain and hail all rolled into one glorious score of minutes. It was so dark outside it honestly looked like night had fallen.

I adored it (of course, I was safe and sound in the thick concrete walls of the office, staring out the double layered kitchen window). It finished by the time I could get outside - there's nothing to match the smell of a storm; all watery and electric - and so I was a little disappointed.

The storm did, as they tend to do, wonders for the temperature, which soared to a record 42 C with the humidex. It didn't much help the humidity, though. It's very muggy out there this morning.

All of this to say simply that I absolutely adore thunderstorms.

Can you tell it's a slow news day? My raging emotions are now more in check, and I'm right on target with my writing (though sad that I lost my incredible lead).

On that note, I'm going to go now, and start on my next daily 3 000. Here's today's Forgotten English to keep you company while I disappear into the writing process:

Alfridaria

A power which astrologers pretend that the planets possess over a person.

- William Toone's Etymological Dictionary of Obsolete Words, 1832

From Arab[ic] root farada, to define, decree, appoint a time for a thing, with the suffix aria.

- Walter Skeat's Glossary of Tudor and Stuart Words, 1914.