Hold 'er Newt, she's a rarin'!

I have no idea what that quote means, but my Dad used to say it all the time and it seems appropriate after yesterday. For those of you who don't know, yesterday was a basis for the phrase, "Lord willin' and the crick don't rise" cause it sure did rise!

I'd just finished a conference call with the design studio when the dog started whining and shaking. She usually does that when she hears thunder, so she's become my early warning system that a storm is coming. In the distance, I thought I heard a really loud fire truck. We also had guys from the roofing company who were here to replace some rotten boards on the front porch (covered in their 10-year warranty). Perhaps all of that was making the dog anxious. Going out to the front porch, I realized it wasn't a fire engine, the sound continued and was obviously the tornado warning system. My neighbor came out and looked around, "I don't see anything! What are they running that for, I thought the storm was south of us."

Bringing the dog in and turning on the radio, I was shocked to hear that there was a confirmed tornado in a town just south of us that was heading north and due to arrive in 12-minutes. I ran out to tell the guys to get off the roof and take cover. They acknowledged me and one of them began cleaning up while the other guy just worked a little faster to finish the roof.



I came back inside and grabbed a bunch of pillows from the daybed then set up a nest for the dog and me in our first floor powder room. It's the only room in the house without windows. Our whole house is raised up on a post and beam foundation so even being in the powder room didn't feel that safe. My phone started ringing with family and friends calling to make sure I was safe. They all asked about the baby. I'd just assumed that Miss G at the daycare is an old hand at dealing with this sort of thing and it hadn't occurred to me to even call her. After continuing to listen to the radio (via a live stream in iTunes on my laptop. We're not in 1978 Cincinnati anymore, Muttola.) and getting more emails, I finally caved and emailed Miss G:

Subject: Trying not to call
Email: So many people are calling to ask if we're ok and if the baby is fine that I just wanted to check in.

She emailed back that Brex was happily asleep and she had the older kids playing in the tub and was watching the news to see if she needed to wake the babies and put them in the other tub.


Despite the chaos to the west and south of us, in our immediate area we only experienced a long thunderstorm. The guys even finished the porch before the rain hit. Heck, we didn't even get hail (NOT complaining at all!).


Aside from droopy roses, we're fine, the house is fine, our neighborhood is fine. The dog? Well she might have a little PTSD.