Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Well, things are starting to get back to normal or at least as normal as they are ever going to be. Everything went well this weekend,and most of you were there, so if you don't mind, I won't rehash.

There is one thing that I actually expirenced last week that I do want to share. For the first time in my life, I actually stood outside during a tornado! When I lived with my parents, I was basically slung into a bath tub and covered with pillows until the weatherman gave an all-clear. Now really, covered with pillows? As if a throw pillow is going to do much good when the very forces of God are swirling about you. I never understood it, I never questioned it, and I refuse to begin now.

Anyways. My dad was always the one standing outside watching the storms, sometimes accompanied by my big sister, and I always heard about how awesome it was after it was all over. So this time I went outside with the men-folk and we watched the storm. It was amazing! I mean, it wasn't as if a tornado was right over us or anything, but the sirens were going off, it actually hailed (first time to see that, too) and we all stood outside and watched it. Now I understand why people are storm chasers! Okay, I take that back. I don't understand why people actually get into cars and drive after the tornados, but I do understand the fascination with them.

However, I did have one moment of shame that I feel is only fair to tell you about. All of my life, I've heard that a tornado "Sounds juss like a freight train." Since I have always been cowered underneath something when any of them had been near our house, I just took that little fact for granted, or at least I understood that a tornado had a rushing, loud sound. So as we were all standing out under the church porch-thingie, I was watching the southern area of sky. All at once I heard this rushing sound coming from behind that I couldn't identify. Immediately, adrenaline surged through me. Steve's cousin, Greg, just happened to be standing next to me, and I honestly almost jumped onto him like Scooby-Doo jumps into Shaggy's arms when he is scared. Had I not turned around at that moment before I jumped, Thanksgiving would never again have been the same. Apparently it wasn't the murderous, funnel of death that I heard coming straight towards the church. It was a Domino's delivery van.

Yes, I almost clobbered Greg because a delivery van passed by. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to take my uncomfortable moment into another room.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That church porch-thingie is called a Portico.

Anonymous said...

And I demand to be included. It was not just menfolk standing under there with you under the porch-thingie-portico-thingie. And I ran out to get you that huge-arse piece of ice! J/K