August 8, 2025 – 7:38 am
Thunder just rattled this little house. Our cottage on the lake. It’s sturdy though—concrete. So, any noise came from improvements—vinyl windows, light fixtures, wall furnace. The new stuff—replacements and upgrades—are nice but never as good as the original. I’m sure other homes are shaking more this morning.
It started last night. Air, temperature, and humidity, wrestling about. Jolted by electricity. I was on the phone with my wife. She was home. At our big old house in town. Watering Mother’s Day flowers that have made it three months so far—colorful baskets that hang from the front porch. She was concerned I couldn’t hear her. She was moving around with the water jug and step ladder, traffic was steady, and the thunder was grumbling on and on. But I could hear her just fine.
We made plans for today. Our anniversary. Seventeen years that we both agreed seemed to have been pretty easy. As it turns out, listening and compromise build strength and unity. Not getting pulled into the bullshit that swirls around when families and friends collide— sticking together, not taking sides—fosters growth. Instills trust. Makes you unstoppable.
There have been hiccups. But we’ve always been focused on getting better. Together. It’s what got us out of low-income housing. Educated. Employed full-time with jobs on the side, and to the point where we can stop, take time to relax in the comfort we’ve created—side-by-side or apart.
Like last night.
When I felt the pull to be here. At the cottage. With water and ducks, chipmunks and chickadees—my thoughts.
And she opted for home—the couch, red wine, and a good book.
And even though we were miles apart and powers far beyond our control worked to shake the world, we knew we were safe. Connected. And that it was just another summer storm. Passing through.
~ KJ
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