At my house, this has been a summer all about weather. Until Sunday, July 27, we'd had practically no rain since spring. That day, it finally rained - not a great deal, but enough to wet the surface of the garden and a little bit beyond that. I've listened in amazement to friends and family talk about how much rain they've had. It has skipped my part of the world, believe me. Nothing sadder than working yourself to exhaustion in the spring to get everything planted, mulched and looking great, only to watch what you did dry up and turn to cement.

So when it clouded up and started to rain that Sunday, I rejoiced. Then lightning struck the third floor of our house. It was a horrible white light accompanied by a zap so loud I screamed. More than two weeks later, we're still dealing with the aftermath -- burned-out, blown-up telephones, computers, CD players, ceiling fans and modems. At some point, we'll have to fix the baseball-sized hole in the wall the bolt caused when it shot through the telephone wire up there.

This is why your mother said, "Don't ever talk on the phone when there's lightning," especially when you live in an old house in Philadelphia with antiquated wiring on your third floor. That will soon be remedied. Get out the checkbook!

This past Sunday it rained again, this time off and on all day. Again, it wasn't a whole lot but I'll take it. Again, there was thunder and lightning and I waited, with some anxiety, for lightning to hit us again. Instead, late in the day, the sun suddenly poked out and this rainbow appeared. It looks so brown and citified but a rainbow's a rainbow.

Rain's in the forecast again for tonight and tomorrow. I'm crossing my fingers but please. No more lightning. Send another rainbow.