I consider myself a tornado alert veteran. When I lived in Birmingham, April meant spending at least one night a week in the basement huddled next to the camping equipment, clutching my bike helmet, listening to the civil defense sirens. Yeah, go ahead and laugh, I remember the 1974 tornados in Huntsville. The tornados never hit the city but would always bank to the North or South. But often the storm damage was always pretty big. Power outages, large oak trees in the road, roofing shingles, and lots of water. They never called a tornado warning until the twister touch the earth. The siren’s meant you need to be in the basement now. And you usually knew it was coming when the sky turns green.
We never get this kind of weather in WNC. I mean never. So yesterday when the weatherman called a tornado warning, I got a little panicy. Shuffling the dogs to the basement crates was chaos. I guess the barimetric pressure was effecting them, because they were FREAKED out. Sid leaned on the front door and just howled!! I was glad they were in the crates when the lightning stick hit somewhere near the driveway. The cats and I scrambled for cover. We waited. And waited. No wind, no torrential rain (although my basement started to flood from a backed up drain). Evidently the rotation never touched the ground. Don’t get me wrong. I am glad there was no real incident, but why so much drama.
I am so excited about Sundays big listing. I have been dying and spinning like crazy. Tons of roving, soft South American sock yarns, and some handspun. I am so tempted to keep it all. But I won’t. Check out the shop this Sunday 10:00am-11:30pm.