Flashes in the night There was a tremendous electrical storm in Perth last night. It had been forecast since at least early yesterday morning when we awoke to very strong, dry easterly winds pouring off the continent.
Easterlies are bad news. They dry out the garden very quickly and make people bad tempered. At the beach they hold the waves back to form "dumpers." These are useless for surfing, but quite good for breaking necks. The wind continued throughout the day.
The electrical storm became noticeable at dusk. It was not in our immediate vicinity, but we could see the flashes to the north and east. There were many more than usual. Very bright and curiously very little thunder. Perhaps this was due to the low humidity.
By about 8pm the flashes seemed to be coming from all around us, but still little thunder. By this time all the computers and broadband modem had been unplugged. Better to be safe than sorry. We have a surge protector on the main switchboard, but I still prefer to take the extra precautions. We watched TV until about 9pm. Being digital, there was much less lightning interference on the screen than there would have been with the old system.
As the final credits rolled on
Heartbeat I figured it was time to pull the plug there too and dispatched everyone to bed with the advice to pull the sheets over their heads.
I was getting a bit twitchy as the electrical activity intensified. I checked to see if the emergency torches were where they were supposed to be. I have an idea my heart rate seemed to be elevating too. I suppose this is a legacy from our tornado experience in May.
I read a report a few days ago that dozens of Australians are struck by lightning every year.
Our old dog Daisy doesn't cope with electrical storms very well at all. She becomes extraordinarily nervous and pants heavily. We let her stay inside at such times but have to shut the bedroom doors. Trying to go to sleep with a nervous dog panting in the room is impossible for me - much worse than with thunder and lightning.
I thought I heard some rain at about 10 pm, but if there was any, there's no sign of it this morning. Everything in the garden is bone dry. We will have to do some hand watering of our potted plants and the silver beet garden.
Our three eldest sons have gone south for the weekend for a Scouting event near Busselton. Two of them were scheduled to undergo a special Rover ceremony called "booting." This is when they are formally booted out of the Rover movement because they have become too old. The end of a life as they know it.
I just checked the
online radar picture for where they are. It looks wet and horrible. Here it is dry and horrible because there is still a howling easterly blowing.
Son number five gave two week's notice at KFC yesterday. This marks the end of free buckets of chicken on late night closings because he is the last of our trio who have been employed there. It's a fast-food fade out. Sob! It was nice while it lasted. Unfortunately greener pastures have beckoned to my children.
All three of our KFC kids enjoyed their experience with the Colonel but all found that management was messing around with their shifts too much. I seemed they were forever being being asked to do long extra shifts because others had called in sick. The kids knew these were usually teenage shams because of some social date. To their credit, none of our kids ever let KFC down in this way.
The two boys are now content with their apprenticeship wages. Our eldest daughter continues her part time work at nearby Jester's Pies. She enjoys the job. The franchise was taken over by new owners last week. Of course they have had some training with the head office, but she has been teaching them some of the ropes at the local level. She accidentally burned her forearm a few days ago when she was showing one of them how to clean something. It wasn't serious.
The departing owners left an individual present for each employee as a gesture of appreciation - a box of chocolates. The new owners, a black South African and a white Frenchman have insisted that all staff take home two pies at the end of their shift instead of one, plus a small bottle of Coke. I've told her to learn to say
"Oui, J'ai faim." Yes I am hungry.
Our daughter has been learning what French swear words sound like. Yesterday the Frenchman was checking out the contents of a large deep freezer when the lid fell on his head.
© MMV Paul R. Weaver.
About the writerCheck out each month's subject index on the Calendar Page for my "common-man" monologues about survival in 21st century Australia – plus a little history occasionally. An original essay is added most days.
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