No people or animals were harmed in the making of this film. Just trees.
The day after it hit 104, we had a powerful storm here. We weren't selfish--after we were done with it, we shared it with quite a few other people.
For us, it started Friday morning, when my girls were watching an old 'Roseanne' episode on TV. It was about a tornado, and I stopped and watched (I've always been kinda intrigued by tornadoes). It was a little scary, so I told the girls that there was nothing to worry about--it's not even the right time of the year for tornadoes. It wasn't even supposed to rain in the foreseeable future.
By lunchtime we were aware of the weather over in Illinois, but we didn't think much of it. As time went on, a thunderstorm watch was declared. I went on with my usual house cleaning and piano playing. It got a little dark, and the radar showed the rain approaching, so I briefly went outside and made sure everything was secured. Then I went inside to play Chopin's op. 50 no. 3--I'm memorizing it. (There, I mentioned piano, I hope my sister will be happy.) I got to about the third page when suddenly each dog barked once and the wind picked up. I went out on the front porch, and everything was moving. The whole air was moving, mixed with large tree branches. You have to think of Schubert's 'Happy Farmer' while you're reading this. The next thing I knew I was yelling, "Everybody get in the bathroom NOW!!!"
Suddenly there were five people and two large dogs (and my phone & laptop--well, they were on the way) in our tiny little bathroom. And the lights went out. The only light was my cell phone.
We were in there for maybe 15 minutes, during which I called my mother (who lives twenty miles from here) who said there was nothing to worry about--they weren't expecting any tornadoes. It got slightly better outside, so I ventured to look out, leaving everybody else in the bathroom. It was one of those very rare times when it was not a good idea to listen to my mother. Just as I was checking my laptop, a tornado warning was declared.
We'd had 91 mph winds. You know, that's the high end of a category 1 hurricane. I think this storm should have a name. How about Hurricane Roseanne?
This is the worst I've ever seen. We were fortunate--our woody island sheltered our house and the trees in our front yard. We did lose two trees, a few half-trees, and a few limbs--all on the north and west sides of the island. I was not happy to see that. And there are sticks and leaves everywhere. I don't know when we will ever get it all cleaned up. We haven't even been able to run the chainsaw since Friday night because it's so dry out it's a fire hazard. But we're lucky--our lights are back on, after only 24 hours. They say many people will wait until Wednesday. And it's hot. And the stores that are still open are running out of things.
My sister, in Washington D.C., lost the big tree in her front yard. From the same storm.
Early Friday morning one of my cats, who is usually a sweetheart except for mornings (I've heard of people not being morning people--this is the first of many cats I've met who meets that description), curled up right by my head and refused to leave, even when I petted him. It was too hot and stuffy to sleep. I didn't realize that he was trying to tell me another storm was coming--he's done this before with especially bad storms. Friday's storm must have put him on high alert. Saturday morning it rained and thundered for a long, long time.
Our oldest daughter left for her mission trip very early Saturday morning. She may very well not have lights where she is now. After she left, I didn't bother trying to go back to bed. But it was incredibly boring in the dark--it's hard to read by candlelight.
The small town nearby is practically closed. They have a great fireworks show, but if the drought doesn't cancel the Fourth of July festivities, the lack of electricity might. And the heat won't help. Fort Wayne, where my mother lives, was in the national news. They got hit hard. Everywhere we've been, it's one street light on, next street light off. Half of the businesses are closed. Trees are down all over. We went to Decatur to get dinner Friday night. It was the same there. We had plans with my parents Saturday. We saw New Haven and Woodburn Saturday night--same there. The standard question you now ask everybody you meet is 'do you have lights?'.
We got lucky--someone we knew in Woodburn knew someone who knew food at a store was going to be thrown out due to lack of refrigeration, and we got a nice pile of lunch meats for our deep freeze and a lot of cheese. I'd been worrying that we were going to lose everything in our refrigerator, freezer, and deep freeze, but we wound up with more food than we had when we started instead.
When we went to see my parents, we had a 'plugging in' party--we took over all their outlets with cell phones, laptops, and our internet device. We also filled up all the water bottles we'd used so far.
We were extremely (and noisily) pleased when we got home--I was the first one to spot our porch light on. We had won the air conditioning lottery.
But we'd done well--we'd had water bottles, food, pet food, candles, matches, flashlights, batteries--you name it. Foam plates, red solo cups, and plastic cutlery are nice, too. And now we'll have an awful lot of firewood and kindling for our wood stove this winter--we already had quite a stockpile. And we'd had all the housework done when it hit, so the pets had full water buckets and the laundry and dishes were done. I did miss my internet, but I have a lot of books I've been meaning to read.
Conclusion 1: You really never know when you'll get hit by a catastrophe with no warning. Being prepared made it a lot less uncomfortable. Most people don't like to think about the lights going out, but we were able to take it pretty much in stride because we knew we had what we needed at home.
Conclusion 2: Refrigeration and air conditioning are really nice when it's 90+ degrees.
Good night!
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