I am so excited.  I laughed when the SoCal weather reports called for a storm on Saturday, and showed the satellite of it moving down from the arctic to the west coast, and then making its way here.  Oooh, I’m scared.  A southern California storm.  Must be a whole .5 inch on the way.

My uppity northern California girl best-storms-on-the-planet attitude was taken down a notch by the end of the day on Saturday.  Hail.  Wind. The lone palm tree in the backyard allowed its crown be blown back like a fashion model’s hair in a photo shoot.   A tile flew off the roof of the rental house scaring the bejeezus out of Ed the Dog and making him bark at the imaginary bad guy for a good five minutes.  Because I really like my new home – it’s airy and the newest house we’ve ever had in California, so doors close tight and faucets turn off without having to know the secret code – I had started already thinking that maybe I didn’t need a view home anymore.

That was until this storm.  It was clearly coming in from the ocean.  We are less than 10 miles from the ocean and the way the rain was coming in horizontally,  it didn’t  look like a good day to be enjoying a sail out of Dana Point Harbor.  I started running around, looking out of windows for a better view.  Perhaps the upstairs windows? No – could only see the house across the street and a tiny bit of valley to the right.

The rain continued to pound on the window throughout the day.  It was heavenly.  It lingered through Sunday morning but that was it.  I guess there probably won’t be the endless Bay Area storms that roll in and last for days or weeks, but that one rip snortin’ storm my first week down south gave me hope that maybe I won’t die of sunshine and blue sky boredom.