This morning, in a freak act of nature, as Stretch spread himself along the back of the couch in order to observe all in his Kingdom, a sudden and rather lengthy hailstorm exploded from puffy silver-grey clouds. It came straight down and cars zipped along faster than they should've, trying to escape any possible damage. Upon closer expection after the worst of the outburst, Stretch and I measured the hail as being healthy pea-sized -- no doubt 'twould've smacked hard and hurt anyone caught outside! =o

Then the shaded grey clouds zipped along, rushing toward the mountains that separate us from Wyoming / Colorado. Good riddance, Stretch says, as he languidly arranges himself along the top of the couch's back again. Nothing must disturb his morning snooze ... that is, until the mailman comes.

Then he charges about madly, announcing to all within, that his pal, the mailman has arrived. Quite the character, that one! But we're so used to his routine I doubt we'd be able to get the mail in anymore without his lil' antics.