I used to hate storms. I can remember (go ahead, family, make fun of me for my amazing memory!), but I can remember a time when there were several of us Hall Grandkids at Grandma & Grandpa's house. A spring/summer storm rolled in, and instead of letting us run off and hide in the basement, my Grandpa made us all gather together out on the front porch to watch the storm. He loved to sit there, and watch the storm roll in, and then roll on. He said you have to sit and find the beauty in the storms. Somehow, that stuck with me, and to this day, I enjoy watching a storm roll in, and eventually roll on. I also remember, that particular evening, someone (and I honestly can't remember if it was a cousin or Grandma or Grandpa who encouraged it), suggested we go puddle jumping. Soon, there was a slew of Hall grandkids with our barefeet and shorts out splashing around in all the standing water. I'm sure Grandma was smiling in joy of us all having fun together, while Grandpa was...
The Stockment's tales from life in rural Indiana!