Wiston Papers

Just a little Iowa weather...

“Here, John.  Drink up.  This will get some of your color back,” our waitress, Beverly, suggested as she poured the first round of our weekly conversation.

“You do look a little ashen,” I noticed.  “What happened?”

“Oh, I was in the basement last night.”

That’s better than the doghouse,” I philosophized.  “Wait, you’re no longer married.”

“It was the storm,” John explained.

“What storm?” I wondered.

“What storm?  That horrific weather that roured through last night.”

“Well, we did get a little moisture,” I observed calmly.

“Moisture?” John reacted in astonishment.  “The rain was torrential.”

“We needed the rain.  The crops are dry,”  I rationalized.

“And all that lightening.  Did you see it light up the sky?”

“There were moments of brightness,” I acknowledged as I sipped my coffee comfortably.

“And the thunder,” John commented energetically.  “It was horrific.”

Yes, some noise to be sure,” I agreed.

“The wind, man, my lord, it was lashing at my windows,”  John described it vividly.

“A bit of a breeze to be sure,”  I smiled slightly and drank almost arrogantly.

John stared at me for a long moment then asked, “How can you be so calm about this?”

“I’ve lived in Iowa my whole life, John.  It just comes with the territory.  We usually get several storms every summer...a normal summer not like this year...but several storms with lots of rain, lightning and thunder.

“How’s that hand doing now?” Beverly asked me as she refilled my cup.  “Stopped shaking yet?”

“Yeah, you’re hand is twitching a bit,” John noticed.

“Uh..oh...it’s nothing,” as I tried to hide it in my lap.

“Usually happens after a storm,” Beverly clarified as she poured a second round for John.

“Ah hah!” erupted John.  “You were scared.  Did you go to the basement, too?

“Well, maybe just to...you know...check on some things, “ I confessed sheepishly.

“Men,”  Beverly muttered as she picked up the bill, money and tip.  “Big...brave...men.”

Steve Coon
July 25, 2012