I'm outta here! When they start talking about overnight tornadoes, I don't mess around.
I spent my day off prepping around the farm and packing.
Like a dear friend said: I'm like an old guitar, I don't play.
The dogs knew something was up when I started putting all our comforters in bags and grabbing their toys.
My bug out bag used to be smaller, but as I age, it got bigger. I always pack a week's worth of my meds, passports, dog's meds.... Now there's all my textbooks and laptop. If the contents of my trailer get blown to the next county, I can still study.
Pete has been upset most of the day, I'm sure he can feel in his old bones that something is coming our way.
Wish us luck, our forwarding address is the guesthouse 1/4 mile down the driveway. I brought all our life preservers. Yes, me and the dogs sit around in life jackets when the tornado sirens go off. It's the only thing I know to do to protect their torsos from potential flying debris. Nothing freaks me out more than Mother Nature's wrath. Ten years ago, I was in my foyer at my farm trying to find a break in the storm to rush my dogs to my truck to get to my neighbor's storm shelter. I had waited too long. A tornado passed between our houses, peeling half the roof off my barn and rolling the roof of my house like a can of sardines... all while I was in the house, helpless. As the tornado passed, lightning struck my house and blew up the breaker panel in the foyer three feet from me and Cole. The noise and the blinding white light will never leave me. The silver lining to this is that if I hadn't been in the foyer, I wouldn't have known to go turn the main break off at the meter, saving my house from burning down. So, yeah, I hate storms.
