I was doing yard work in an effort to cure my grumpiness, so maybe there was a subconscious will to harm myself back into a state of zen and joy. Whatever it was, it didn't work, and I had to put myself in a time out (aka nap) by late afternoon. I woke up thinking I could then move on with my evening by being good mommy and cooking dinner and finishing some laundry, hell maybe I would even bake for the kidlets. But when I realized 19 year old child wasn't home, and 16 year old man child wanted to go hang out with friends after work, I settled into further sloth behavior and planted my ass on the couch with some magazines.
I saw a weather alert on my phone for a severe thunderstorm watch, which anymore seems to mean that it will get windy and we will be lucky to see a sprinkle or two. I actually abandoned the sloth behavior and marched outside where the wind was starting to pick up, and weighed down a few things, pulled patio chair cushions into the shed, and moved some stuff closer to the house. I was feeling pretty smart at this point, since I usually wait to pick up things after they've blown across the yard. Looking at the skies, and being blinded by sun, I went ahead and watered flowers that appeared to have withered and given up on life. By this time, I'm fed up with these constant promises of rain that never seem to happen, and feeling like the oh-so-smarty pants that is just going to trump Mother Nature's false promises.
The first Severe Thunderstorm Warning rolls in, and I'm rolling my eyes at the brief rainstorm that made me close my windows for ten minutes. Next thing I know, the sun is shining again, the birds are singing their happy little song. The 19 year old arrives home, and I start perusing Netflix wondering if there is something for us to watch that we can agree on that won't make her roll her eyes or my brain putrefy.
Then BAM! Both our phones illicit this horrendous screeching sound and I see this weird looking window pop up with a random "tornado warning, take cover". We look at each other with a WTF, I glance at the windows and see the sky is cloudy but nothing that is making me think it's time to grab the ruby slippers and run for cover. Within seconds, the ear piercing howl of our town tornado siren starts wailing. And I really do mean wailing. It's never quite uniform in it's wails, and seems to select random pitches the longer it goes.
So, considering our storm shelter is also the Chupacabra lair, and you can only enter it through cellar doors set into the ground outside, we do what any normal small town Iowan would do and go outside and look up. Of course, having grabbed that extra appendage called a cell phone, we both look like little groupies as we're holding phones up getting video of the waaaaah, waaa(hiccup)aaaaah, waaaaa(belch)aaaaah. We make our way to the front of the house, where we can bet a better view of the western skies that might tell us if Dorothy is about to leave Kansas. Nope, nada. Zip. Zilch. Yeah, it looks like some storms are rolling in to the northwest, but it's pretty far out there and nowhere near our six little square blocks. The sirens make a final wailing death screech and die off. We wait, hanging out on the front steps watching these storms in the distance, enjoying a breeze that is just enough to slightly cool off a hot and muggy day. Obviously, being a phone junkie, I'm taking pictures, checking weather radar, and being reassured by the large cell I see is passing us by to the north.
The light show starts with some really great lightning powering up in the northwest sky, and I'm pretty chillaxed enjoying the show, because it's still pretty far off, and really doesn't seem to be moving toward us. I confirm this again with a quick check of the handy dandy weather app I have on my phone, and then track down my son to make sure he doesn't try to drive home while this little weather "event" is moving through. I mean, my app is telling me it's not going to actually hit this area, and yeah, it's breezy, but it's not even raining and all the lightning is pretty far in the distance. I'm feeling confident (cocky) that this is the usual weather forecast that always seems to miss us. But you know, *ahem* just in case I'm wrong (but I'm NOT wrong because I have that handy dandy app on my phone), I wouldn't want my son driving through big open sky country just to try and come home.
As the light show gains strength, I'm thinking how cool this would be to jump in the truck and get on the other side of the six square blocks so we have a open view of everything moving through. Hubby calls from North Dakota, asking me what's going on there. He's got a buddy calling him who lives west of us saying they have a tornado touched down, and I reassure him with the handy dandy radar app I've been using and telling him OF COURSE we are being cautious. He understands fully, because he's usually the one down in the Chupacabra lair changing the furnace filter, and he knows we don't go in that pit of hell unless we absolutely have to. C'mon, in ten years we've only sheltered down there twice before in a storm, so really, this is no big deal. Plus, there's that cool light show going on.
It's getting darker, afterall, it is night time at this point, and the light show is really the only thing letting us see what these storm clouds are doing. We've got some pretty green going on above us, but my app is still telling me all is fine, though I catch myself looking up to see if I see any swirling going on during those flashes.
Still no rain, still just a nice breeze, though I admit to myself that the breeze has probably graduated to the status of windy. But hey, it's hot out, and I'm enjoying it. There are some hellacious looking clouds passing up to the northwest and I'm thinking hell, those farms are getting pounded, but cool show bro (cocky little weather girl that I have become). Daughter heads in the house to plug her phone in, because there is nothing worse than a dying phone when there are so many status updates needing to be tweeted, Facebooked, and SnapChatted.
And then WAAAAAAAAAAH, WOOOOOOOOOOO....the town siren starts up again. In about three seconds flat I realize it's too dark now for me to see what the skies are really doing, I've watched all the weather spotters speed out of town, and our sirens typically are only activated when something is actually seen. Yup, time to stop relying on the weather app and get our asses into the cellar. The daughter grabs the cat who by this time is yowling; perhaps attempting to out yowl the town sirens.
We get into the Chupacabra lair, still feeling at least halfway confident that this is like any other time and we'll just be standing among the spiders and dirt until the sirens stop. The cat is still meowing like the whiny little wussy that he is and I'm thinking he really needs to just shut up or next time his ass stays upstairs.
FLASH, the power suddenly goes out. With it, goes the tornado siren. We give it a few seconds in the pitch black windowless storm cellar, and yup, town generator kicks on and the siren goes back to wailing it's siren song. However, the creepout factor just went up five times since this IS the Chupacabra lair, and the only things we grabbed were a whiny cat and cell phones. At least daughter has a flashlight app on hers, so can use that if we have to. I'm not too thrilled at the prospect of the power being out, because even with only six square blocks to power, we hardly EVER lose it, even during strong storms. Just as this thought crosses my mind, the tornado sirens start wailing a dying, winding down sound, and even with the siren being located just through our back yard, it gets quieter and quieter until it finally dies a horrid sounding death into silence.
And then we hear the storm.
Howling winds, and the rain starts, and it must be one hell of a pounding, driving rain. I'm still thinking ok, strong storm, and at least this is better safe then sorry. Though it's starting to feel like the horror movie scene where something comes out of the dark. The cat is still yowling, so at least he hasn't been snatched and eaten by whatever lives in the lair. Though he's still yowling, and the sirens have stopped, so what's he so bothered by? No, I don't want to think about that, because that may mean my app is wrong, and so far this is really no big deal.
I hear the home phone ringing upstairs and am thinking what the hell kind of moron is calling NOW? I almost wish I could answer it just to tell the damn telemarketer sitting on his ass in India that HELLO WE ARE ABOUT TO BE BLOWN TO PIECES HERE DUMBASS. My cell phone rings, it's my dad, I tell him it does actually sound like it's getting bad, and he tells me it was him calling the home phone to inform my stupid ass to get down in the lair. Gee, Daddy, do you know your daughter or what? Not like I had been sitting outside watching everything for the last hour. I let him know we are ok, in the cellar, it's getting loud, and I will call him when it all passes. Once I'm off the phone, I hear the rumbling. Granted, this could be thunder that is rolling through so steadily that it creates a dull roar, but it's just not feeling that way. It's the kind of rumbling you actually feel and not just hear. I keep reminding my daughter (and myself because I'm finally feeling a tad concerned) that a tornado will be deafening, so as long as this remains a dull roar, it's passing us by. Rains are torrential, I can hear the water starting to seep into the basement, and I briefly think of the sump pump that sits two feet away from me without any power. The cat is still freaking out, the daughter is getting pretty stressed, and I'm occasionally holding my hand to the wall behind me to see if I feel it vibrating.
Time passes SO slowly when you're waiting for the house to come down around you.
It was a total of about 25 minutes in the cellar. Without the sirens to let us know how long to remain underground, I had to rely on my handy dandy phone and the warning that finally appeared on it a full five minutes after we actually went to the cellar. The cat settled down about the same time the noise diminished to just downpours, and I got to enjoy the soothing sound of even more water trickling in.
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| Rub a dub dub. View from the wood board we were crouched on. |
Daughter's phone had died, so no trusty flashlight app to use (going to have to get one of those), and we both decided we need an emergency bottle of liquor stashed among the rock, dirt, and spiders. Probably should get a weather radio while we're at it. And a flashlight that doesn't require an app. Yeah, I'll get around to that.
Let me tell you, this town is CREEPY with no power. After rising from the depths, and after reassuring a hubby who probably had to be worried sick because the last thing I had told him is that we were in the cellar and grudgingly admitting it sounded pretty bad out there, I began mopping up the wet soggy messes in the house that had all the windows open (my carpet is still damp today). I admitted my addiction to the rest of the world and went out to the truck to plug in my phone and listen to the weather radio station. Things had totally calmed down and we did take a brief drive to see if anything had damaged our area, and short of tree limbs down and leaves whipped everywhere, it was otherwise just very, very dark. Which made the light show going on to the south of us really pretty.
Just can't resist those light shows.
Another hot and humid day today, with another forecast for strong storms tonight. No weather radio. A somewhat crappy flashlight I found in the house. No liquor.
So not prepared.
Better charge my phone for those handy dandy apps.
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