Life has been kind of quiet around here lately. Nothing to really write about. Until Thursday, that is.
Last Thursday Amanda turned 5. She’s a big girl now, getting ready for kindergarten. She also is starting to look like a teenager. All she needs is a cell phone ( and her PHD so she can kiss boys) and she is good to go. This happens way too fast.
Do you know what else happens fast?
Yep, we got some of that Thursday night. No warning either.
I didn’t check the weather on the computer and no warnings came on the TV. Tom and I stood on the back porch and watched a wall of white come at us over the valley.
Imagine this disappearing behind a white wall. Rapidly.
As I watched it my nervousness grew. I’m not a fan of storms, not here anyway. My first two winters here left me shaken, almost literally. It took less than 5 minutes for what turn out to be gale force winds and torrential rain to descend upon us.
My nervousness turned into outright fear. I couldn’t even hear myself yell to Tom that maybe we should seek better shelter.
A trailer is the last place I wanted to be right then.
Tom took off in search of something, not saying a word. Kieran and Amanda came running out to me, saying that they were scared. Unable to get Toms attention, I grabbed all three kids and took off for the neighbors as best as I could. They live about 75 yards away but they had a basement.
Out of nowhere, Tom runs up and grabs Amanda who had fallen next to me and heads for the truck. I drag Kieran and carry Perry there as well.
Between the rain and my fogged up windows, I can’t see a thing but I am desperate to get away. I am crazed by my need to protect my family. I just had to get them to the other side of the hill. I hoped that whatever fresh Hell had descended on us wouldn’t have enough steam to get up and over to the other side.
My hope was answered. After finally buckling the kids into their seats and climbing to the front, Tom spoke. Words came out of his mouth.
That would have been helpful a few minutes prior.
He was saying things I could not understand. The wind had died down and the rain had slowed and we had reached the other side of the hill.
Still I drove.
I asked him to clean my glasses and complaining that I could not see a thing out of the foggy windshield. I was concerned that the road had washed away completely.
It was already have gone from so called “April showers” and have yet to be repair.
And Tom was still talking, but louder now. I kept driving and shaking my head “NO”. I had to get to a basement. My in-laws have a basement, drunk of a father in law be damned. I can handle him. I can’t handle what ever that just was.
Now Tom is yelling. I yell back. The kids are whining “Where are we going” and “I’m cold”.
And then it hits me. Tom is telling me the storm has stopped. I can turn around and go back.
Go Back!? Is he MAD!? I learned a long time ago that wind like that can last for hours if not days at Pandora’s Box. I spent a lot of time walking around Walmart when Amanda was a baby because I was too scared of the wind at home.
But I stopped, pull the stroller cupholder that I was sitting out from under me, waited and went back. I was fully expecting to drive back into Hell. I thought that at the least, Pandora’s Box would be tipped over and yard toys would be scattered around my landlords acreage.
I was shocked. The rain had stopped completely now. I could clearly see the trailer standing upright and intact. Even stranger, not a single toy, rain boot or bike and moved. Only my stroller had tipped over and a few boxes on the back porch had blown to the other side of the porch.
I was still unsettled and so were the kids. Understandable so. I immediately set to work finding a corded phone and called my mom. She knew about the storm coming. She had know since 3 that afternoon.
And while Tom was busy trying to figure out how to wake up in the morning for work with out power for his alarm clock. I decided that we weren’t staying there that night. I was on edge, the kids were terrified and mom told me the storms were going to go on through the night.
No Fucking Thank You.
So I packed. With three tired and freaked out kids in the truck and a grumbly Tom in his car, we went to my moms.
Our journey should have taken us 45 minutes at the most. It took more than an hour. A tree had fallen across the road and onto power lines close to the end of our trip. That caused us to double back and take a back road that I had only learned of the night before.
I learned the next day that that was not the only line down. There were hundreds across the county like that. We weren’t suppose to have power back until late Saturday, early Sunday.
Thankfully, a lot of people busted there butts and we got power back on late Friday night and we returned home on Saturday.
That was the scariest thing I have ever been through in my life. Worse than being shot at or seeing 2 pink lines in a dipstick.
And I am still scared. Thunderstorms rolled past us a couple hours ago. I laid in bed counting the time between the lighting and the thunder, shaking like a leaf.
I couldn’t take it so I got up and checked the weather. I watched the radar map a few dozen time, watching the projected path and intensity of the storm. Once my fears were soothed, I wanted to cry.
No one should be afraid to live in their home. No mom should have worry about here house being picked up and torn in half in the middle of the night.
My desire to move is coming dangerously close to desperation. I don’t make good choices when I am desperate. Bad choices like finding employment in fetish porn or selling pot. I bet they both pay well.
And I look good in big sunglasses and sexy hair and I already drink my coffee through a straw. And I have a really big bathtub.
I think I’ll become a “small business owner”. I should have a brick and steel reinforced house in no time.