Friday, July 01, 2005, 18:33
Hang Onto Your Hat!
I am always amazed by the little ironies that appear in life. Wednesday evening we escaped receiving any damage from the severe thunderstorms that were rolling through (and in fact, merely got just a few drops of rain out of it) -- only to be nearly blown away on Thursday by a 40 mph wind that kept going all day long and well into the night.
It was so windy on Thursday that my two kittens from last year, Rocky and Juliette, didn't even want to be outside. As usual, Rocky and Juliette begged to go out first thing in the morning, and then five minutes later, they were begging to come back in and didn't ask to go outside again for the rest of the day.
Thursday afternoon I went around the yard and the garden, checking on my plants, and noticed that the tomatoes I have planted in tubs were all leaning to the north/northeast from the south/southwest wind blowing against them.
This morning, my tomato plants were all leaning toward the south. The wind had switched to the north overnight and had pushed the tomatoes back the other way. Fortunately, none of them broke off, so that was a good thing. Can't say the same for one of the sunflowers, though. The wind snapped it off halfway up the stem.
Thursday I also foolishly tried to tie up my morning glories to help them climb instead of just winding around themselves. Right. I managed to get the strings tied up, but the morning glories had as much chance of finding the string and hanging on as I would have to sprout wings and fly to the moon. (That was one of my mother's sayings, about sprouting wings and flying to the moon.)
My horse, Kajun, didn't want to spend much time outside, either. He spent most of the day on Thursday in the shelter of the barn. This morning, his eyes were all swollen and weepy. I'm thinking it's because of the grit flying around in the wind. I cleaned out his eyes and put some salve in them. I hope it helps. The poor thing was standing there blinking and blinking and trying to rub his eyes along the wooden fence in the barn. I suppose his eyes were all itchy from the grit.
Thankfully the wind has died down today. Now maybe my morning glories can figure out how to climb and my tomatoes can go back to working on blossoming. Rocky and Juliette have gone outside, and so far, they haven't asked to come back in. And Kajun has been out in his pasture to pick a little grass, too.
Earlier in the week it was so hot and humid I could hardly stand to walk around outside. Yesterday I nearly got blown away by the wind, and in the evening it was so cool, I had goosebumps on my arms.
Now that it's really summer, I'm hoping for a happy medium in there someplace. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
Thursday, June 30, 2005, 18:37
A Lucky Break
For about the tenth time, Randy's pager went off. My husband is an Internet technician, and he has carried a pager for quite a few years. He has the pager set up so that when weather warnings are issued, they come through on the pager. This actually works out quite well, because if the power is out and we don't have television and radio coverage to keep us informed of how bad the thunderstorms are, where they are, and if there's a tornado warning, we can still get information from the pager.
Since 6 p.m. Wednesday evening, we had been hearing on television that western Minnesota was getting hit hard with thunderstorms that had produced large hail, torrential rain and winds of up to 100 mph. The storms, the weather forecaster said, were moving east at a pretty good clip. And now, at 11 p.m., Randy's pager was very busy with weather warnings.
My husband, who had been lying in bed, reading, checked the pager once again, sighed, threw back the covers and got out of bed.
"I suppose I'd better get dressed for this one," he said. "It sounds like it's going to pretty bad."
"Maybe I ought to take Pixie outside right now, before it starts storming," I said.
I called our Shetland Sheepdog, Pixie, and went outside.
Walking out into the dark was like walking into a sauna. The air was heavy and thick with humidity. And it was still. I've always heard the saying, "air so thick you could cut it with a knife" -- and that's exactly what it felt like.
As Pixie wandered around the yard, I watched the lightning in the distance. A constant flickering came from the west that lit up half of the night sky. It was like a giant flashbulb going off over and over and over. A few faint rumbles of thunder accompanied the flashes.
"Hurry up, Pixie," I said.
When Pixie was finished, we rushed back to the house together.
The weather forecaster on television was interrupting the broadcast for the umpteenth time in the last half an hour.
"If you are in the path of this storm, seek shelter," he said. "This storm has a history of producing high winds, large hail and torrential rain."
"If it gets really bad," I said to Randy, "we'll have to toss the kitties into the bathroom. At least that's an interior room."
I figured if I was going to put the cats in the bathroom, I ought to know where to find them. I bent down to look under the bed, and sure enough, Guinevere and Nightshade were huddled there together.
"Okay, that's it," I said. "It's gonna be bad. Guinevere and Nightshade are hiding under the bed."
The other cats, Duke, Billie, Winifred and Sebastian, didn't seem all that concerned. Then again, they never seemed to worry about storms as much as Guinevere and Nightshade.
"Look at the radar," Randy said, pointing to the television."The storm is only five miles away."
Lightning was flashing more frequently than ever, but we still couldn't hear much thunder. We paced from window to window, trying to see what was happening. The lightning provided some light, but not enough so that we could really see the sky.
"Well, look at that," Randy said. "I can't believe it."
I looked at the television. The line of storms that had been there a few minutes ago had disappeared.
Poof. Gone. Vanished.
Just like that.
"The storms died right overhead," Randy said. "I've never seen anything like it."
Actually, I had never seen anything like it, either. From all indications, a severe thunderstorm had been headed right for us, and then, in a matter of minutes, it was gone.
We went outside. Instead of thick and hot and still, the air was noticeably cooler, and the wind had picked up. A few raindrops fell, and then, that was it.
This morning on the news, we heard that trees and powerlines were down in the city just 15 miles to the south of us.
I don't know why the storms died out right overhead Wednesday night -- but I'm awfully glad they did!
LeAnn R. Ralph