When we woke up at 7:30 yesterday morning, we noticed it was really dark for that time of day. It was just starting to rain. It's very unusual for it to rain during the day here. Mazatlan usually abides by the rulebook for Paradise and restricts the rain to the night time hours. No big deal. On the rare occasions it does rain during the day here, absent a hurricane, it is always a gentle rain shower. Did I say always? I guess I should add – until today.

It started off gentle enough. The rain came to us from over the Pacific. We closed the windows while it passed over our house. That took about 10 minutes. Then we opened up our windows and set about the normal stuff we do to start the day: making coffee, checking email, getting in a quick game of spider solitaire or two before settling in for some serious work.

I was halfway through my second game of solitaire and at the start of my second cup of tea when I heard the muted rumble of thunder in the distance. I quickly dismissed it. After all, the rain has already passed, and that thunder was somebody else's problem. What I didn't realize was that the small storm had hit the mountains, turned around, and was now not quite so small.

The second wave of rain was much harder, and there was much grumbling from the sky. I didn't worry about it too much though. The rain was now coming from behind us, so I didn't even have to close the windows. But as the storm passed us the second time, it went out over the ocean, where it really gained strength. And then it came back again.

I was watching the storm head back our way when I saw the first bolt of lightning, and it was close. Lightning means its time for shutdown. This is a drill Chuck and I have had many opportunities to practice, usually in the middle of the night. We shut down all the computers and unplug them, then move the plugs as far away from the outlets as possible. Then we get the microwave, fans, air conditioner, washer, dryer, clock radios, coffee maker, everything except the refrigerator and dryer, both of which are really hard to get to. Last year our neighbors took a direct hit and lost everything that was plugged in.

It's amazing how little there is to do when you have unplugged everything that uses electricity. Try it sometime. Chuck and I aren't Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit kind of people, so with nothing else to do, I thought I would do some dishes. When lighting flashed very close, it occurred to me that standing in front of the window with iron bars on the top floor of my house with my hands in a sink full of water was perhaps not the smartest thing I could do.

What really caught my attention was a bright flash from somewhere near the ceiling in the living room. I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, but it was bright enough that it brought Chuck in from his office. We both stood in the living room trying to figure out what it was when there was another lightning flash, and the lights in the ceiling fan lit up. I looked at the wall switch to verify it was off. It was. The pull chain for the light was also off, so even if the fan was on, the lights should not be. Whahuh? That was enough to send Chuck flying down the stairs to throw all the breakers. And difficulty be damned, we unplugged the refrigerator and dryer.

For the next 15 minutes we waited and watched. It seemed like the storm camped right on top of our house. There was lots of lightning. With every flash, the lights in the living room and dining room would come on, and the fans in the living room, dining room, and kitchen would start to spin, even with the breakers thrown. The lightning didn't seem to affect anything on the lower levels. And of course, each lightning flash was immediately accompanied by the crack and rumble of thunder. By the time the storm finally moved on, the dogs were quivering piles of jelly.

When the worst of the storm had passed, Chuck and I got out books and read until it was safe to plug everything in again. And then we had soup. This was not quite what I had imagined when I asked for a cloudy day. Michael is right, I should be careful what I wish for.