Sunday, I was happily blogging, ignoring the gray day outside. Then the sirens went off. That was my first clue that I needed to stop blogging. Turned on the TV: the local meteorologists were into their third hour of coverage of a storm (storms, actually) moving across Missouri.
"Tornadic activity." One of them was especially fond of this phrase.
Columbia was spared any touch downs, though not all of the state was so fortunate. We weren't spared golf-ball size hail, however. Two episodes of it. My poor car, purchased shortly after I defended my dissertation some years back, is now pocked with shallow dents.
But I won't complain. I have no basement. I huddled with C. and the cats (the two younger ones who were fascinated by the hail and wouldn't get away from the windows were wailing their protest in their carriers) in our very short hallway. I'm grateful we had some hail, and nothing more.
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Well, at least you were with your family...I was in the public library (a place I usually enjoy) and had to endure what seemed like years of sitting around in the basement, thinking about all the shelves and shelves of books above us ready to come crashing down.
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