A little lightning

Last night the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed.

Ka-boom! Pow. Zap.

The rain fell and we were grateful. "The millet seed will come up now," said husband happily.

The storm passed and the heavens still watered our fields. The TV, computer - all things electronic - were dead because we had them unplugged.

Wonder of wonders, we chatted for a bit about our day, our vacation plans, and the things we'd missed out in the hustle of the last hectic six months.

The world was rather quiet and I asked husband if he thought it might be OK if I played my guitar. That would be my electric Les Paul guitar.

"I don't hear it thundering," he said. He sat back in the recliner, eyes closed, listening while I spent far too much time tuning.

I played some very ancient songs - Help Me Make It Through the Night, and Leaving On A Jet Plane.

Next up was The Eagles and a bad rendition of Lyin' Eyes. I was strumming along and getting ready to switch from a "C" chord to an "A minor" and ...

Bzaapp.

The amplifier buzzed and had I not had on a guitar strap, I would have dropped my instrument. The electricity ran through the amplifier and into the guitar, where it transferred into my hands.

My left hand, with all four fingers on the strings, took the brunt of the tingling. I immediately unplugged the guitar from the amplifier and set the instrument in its stand. My husband looked up.

"There goes your amplifier," he said mildly, not realizing I'd been shocked. "The storm's back. You'd better unplug it."

It was at that point, as I sat there unmoving, trying to shake the feeling back into my hand, that he realized I'd had a jolt.

I finally got the amplifier unplugged, and not long after we went to bed. My hand, except for my thumb, had stopped tingling by the time I fell asleep, and my thumb was fine this morning.

Let that be a lesson, though - no electric guitar in the thunderstorm.