Yesterday was a muggy day that consisted of overall humid grossness punctuated by intermittent drizzling spells. It was evening, and Jay had just returned from his ultimate frisbee game when we heard a dull roar--the kind that can either be thunder or a big garbage can rolling down a hill. It lasted for over 15 seconds, so I discarded the thunder theory. But a few minutes later, the wind picked up. I started to get hopeful: we haven't had a good storm here in awhile. Apparently San Antonio is in a bad drought, or so the media says (but my dad always grumbles that if newspapers aren't whining about critically low water supplies they're screaming about floods, so take that for what it's worth). A few minutes later, I thought I heard rain, and then it was more than rain pounding against our walls. I ran outside and saw pebble-sized hailstones bouncing on the grass: the biggest I'd ever seen. I grabbed one and ran inside to show it to Jay; it looked like a clear half-marble in my hand. We ran outside together as the storm intensified and the hail came down bigger and harder than before, like the sky was hurling large marbles and small rocks as hard as it could. I was so excited. I started yelling at Jay to grab the camera as I tried to gather some of the stones without incurring a concussion.
When the barrage stopped about two minutes later, the rain picked up. Laughing like a maniac, I ran out and twirled around on our sidewalk, getting soaked after a few seconds. Did I mention I love storms? Anyway, feeling a bit foolish, I came back inside, shivering, and picked up my textbook, ignoring Jay's raised eyebrows.
Later that evening I decided I had to take some pictures of our beautiful tulips before they die completely. I love flowers, especially tulips and lilies, and we bought a huge vase with bulbs at the bottom at Costco for seven bucks. The cool part is that we got to watch them bud and bloom, and we've had gorgeous tulips on our table for the past couple weeks.