The Journey

Heavy weather. Need I say more. In fact they are saying we are under a slight chance of tornado. Ah, spring has arrived. Now we watch the sky and listen to the radio. (grinning)

When I was about twelve, we were staying at the farm with my Grandmother. She had been complaining about her knee all day. Early in the afternoon the chickens started acting funny. Grandma looked at the sky and order all four of us into the fruit cellar, which was a whole in the ground (no other way to describe it) with shelves where the apples, potatoes, and other veggies were stored after they were picked. It smelled like dirt and was cold. There were two hinged doors that opened out to let you down the stairs (about four I think) to the floor of the cellar.

Just after Grandma got us all seated, a roar like a steam locomotive sounded above us. Then everything got still. We waited for what seemed like a century to a twelve year old, before Grandma let us out of the cellar. Trees were down, the back part of the house, we called it the milk house because that was where the raw milk was processed for collection by the co-op, was gone, pieces everywhere. Part of Grandpa's garage was missing.

The point of all of this is simply, some people are super sensitive to weather. I guess I inherited it from Grandma. With me, it's how hard it is to breath. So if you know someone who is also sensitive to weather, listen to them.  Grandma saved our lives that day, I'm sure of it, and only because her knee hurt.

Allison