Right now, the rain cascades in heavy, slanting sheets that pelt the ground. The university where I teach, notorious for never shutting its doors, has cancelled all classes and activities for the rest of the day.
We're hunkering down. The little one naps, the older girls color at the kitchen table, and my husband turns on the Weather Channel. We've stocked up on bottled water, batteries for flashlights, and Oreo cookies. The important stuff.
All the things that seemed so urgent this morning -- meetings, classes, deadlines -- don't seem terribly urgent right now.
We're together, and that's important.