Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

At Least I Didn't See Miss Gulch on a Bicycle

My house was a-rockin' last night. So glad that none of you came a-knockin'. Because you might have been whirled away in the Wizard-of-Oz-class maelstrom that beset Backroads around 2:30 a.m.

I awoke in my trusty basement recliner, none the worse for wear after a 3.5 hour nap, to the sound of wind, thunder, rain, and unknown particles smashing into the front of the house. I'm glad the power did not go out, or I might have been disoriented. My TV went off. I suppose Dish Network will claim that their product does work in a tornado, and that we simply need to trim some limbs.

This morning, I expected to see some limbs down in the fields, and maybe some flappy roofs. But no. My route was relatively devoid of debris. Hick, however, had to backtrack. A whole tree blocked his Backroads back road. The local game warden, who lives in our area, had stopped traffic to deter accidents.

I do not like those dark storms. The sleepytime storms. I don't want to stay up all night waiting for my demise. Hick simply goes to bed as normal. As do the boys. But I'm the worry wart. I watch the chief meteorologists until the cows come home, enjoy a light supper, soak in a bubble bath, powder themselves, slip into flannel jammies, and hit the hay. Except for last night. I did not watch the forecast. Last I heard, we were getting thunderstorms after nine. And that was all.

So...I did not pack up my shelter necessities, those being cash, medication, and my flash drives. I did not have the metal door to the safe room propped open, ready to round up my men upstairs should doom appear on the horizon. We were sorely unprepared.

Which will not happen again this spring.

8 comments:

Sioux said...

No Juno in a bicycle basket, being spirited away by a witch?

Lucky you.

Stephen Hayes said...

Glad you're okay. I once saw Miss Gulch fly past my window on a bike but it had nothing to do with a storm or tornado.

Linda O'Connell said...

That dang wind could knock the socks off you. I like my couch as much as you like your recliner.

irishoma said...

Hi Val,
We had some wicked wind here too, but not as bad as other parts of the state.
It's that time of the year.
Donna

Kathy's Klothesline said...

The wind was howling here. We have no basement, I long for a hidey hole like I had in Minnesota. The master bedroom was on the uppermost level. When all the children left home we put a kingsize bed and a TV and all the comforts of the bedroom on high in the basement room with no windows. If the forecast was iffy, we just slept down there. I miss that.

Josh Hoyt said...

I have always liked big storms, but I have never lived in a place where a storm can rip your house apart either.

Kelley said...

That sounds scary! It's so ironic but the blog I read JUST before yours was talking about the same storm, I think. She even brought up Dorothy!

Val said...

Sioux,
Nobody puts Juno in a bicycle basket. But if they did, she would be the canine Red Chief, her ransom slashed to FREE, just to get rid of her and her hyper antics.

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Stephen,
I'm not sure I want to delve into that scenario.

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Linda,
And blow the hair right off your head. The way to a woman's heart (omitting chocolate, of course) is through a comfortable piece of furniture.

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Donna,
But February had not even gone out like a lion yet!

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Kathy,
There have been nights that I've made my boys bed down on the basement couch. Hick, however, pshaws my precautions, and sleeps upstairs. Counting on me, of course, to arise from my recliner to save him.

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Josh,
I find the regular thunderstorms spectacular. Tornadoes, not so much.

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Kelley,
She must live right up my alley.