The Fateful Eighth

That phrase comes to mind today. My dad made reference to it  most years on August 8th. Apparently he got it from Grandma Goff. A severe hail storm passed through the area on that date and did major crop damage in one of their early homesteading years. So the date lived on in their memories, although not for a happy time.
Today carries good potential for a replay of that storm. Already hot in the early morning hours. High humidity, all the ingredients for some severe weather later today.
Here is an old photo of Grandma taken in the war years of the 1940s. Likely a fall picture judging by the lack of leaves on the trees and that huge pumpkin. Wish I still had that double barreled shotgun leaning against the rocking chair.