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Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Toronto thunder storm

Just the other day, a friend and I were talking about thunderstorms. She loves them, I’m not keen on them. I don’t mind a gentle rolling thunder, but when it comes crashing down with a bang I’m like a dog who flattens its ears and crawls in a corner. Lightning I find entertaining, but at the same time scary, considering the damage it can cause.

Yesterday night, or shall I say yesterday morning, as it happened around 5:00 a.m., Toronto experienced one of its worst thunderstorms: pelting rain, one thunder bolt after another and lightning that set the sky on fire for close to an hour. And what did I do … I slept right through it.

When asked whether the storm had woken me up, I asked “What storm?” I hadn’t heard or seen a thing.

This was not the first time this happened. Many years ago, while still living in Johannesburg, the city was rocked by a tremendous earthquake. When it hit, the house shuddered on its foundations, chandeliers trembled, and books and ornaments fell off surfaces. Or so I was told. When my friends and neighbors discussed the event the next day, I had nothing to contribute as I never stopped catching zzzzzzzzzs.

I’ve also been known to sleep through a fire alarm. How this is possible is a mystery even to me. The fire alarm in our condo building produces a piercing sound. Every condo is fitted with a unit, with an additional two units in the corridor. It is so loud that I often wonder if it endangers our hearing.

That particular night though I wasn’t bothered at all. When asked later about the alarm, and I stated that I hadn’t heard anything. A building official came to test the alarm to see if it worked. It did indeed. He gave me strange look and commented “You must be a terrific sleeper.”

A terrific sleeper? Not really, in fact I have problems sleeping. Most of the time I only go to bed when I feel dead tired and can hardly keep my eyes open. Once in bed though I’m wide awake. Then I lie there, gazing up at the ceiling, tossing and turning, eventually switching on the light to read a book.

With a book it can go either way. Either the story is boring and after a few pages I feel tired enough to give sleeping another go, or the story is captivating and I keep turning pages.

Once I’m asleep though everything changes. A proverbial cannon can go off next to me and I won’t stir. 

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