And your little dog, too

Blog? What blog?  I almost forgot I have a blog, what--with season finale season upon us, the wife's surgery, Lucy's lumpy head, all that grass mowing....oh, the grass mowing!--the release of Gaga's newest album, Freckles continued progress, the growth of baby bunnies in the front lawn and the chance to see Blue Man Group surrounded by fabulous family, I can barely remember my name, let alone a blog.  But, here I am, squeezing us in between DVR'd Glee and DWTS, before tonight's season finales of AI and Modern Family, after listening to Gaga's album once again and while farming my crystals on that damn fake farm of mine.  BTW, Gaga sold her album on Amazon for only 99 cents the day it was released.  That woman is a genius.  Madonna taught her well.

Quick update: the wife's recovery is going as planned.  She's doing the best she can to behave.  I'm doing the best I can to keep the house in an acceptable state.  The dogs are plugging along. The civil union planning can soon resume. We are a bunch of happy campers in the Addiverse!

This weekend, a storm swooped down upon our dwelling.  Blue Eyes and Master Pastor Reiki were over for dinner (brought a deliciously mean 15 bean soup--who knew there were 15 different kinds of beans to put in a soup?) when the weather turned sour.  One minute, warm and pretty; the next, tornado sirens and black skies.  We had been watching the weather and had the TV on in the background, so we knew some storms were literally on the horizon.  The TV channels screamed out their warnings while we ate all 15 kinds of beans. (Don't forget the home-made cornbread, the wife's favorite sweet tea and that naughty cheesecake.  No storm can interfere with my food.) Then, the tornado sirens started blaring.  Blue Eyes and the wife understandably couldn't get into the basement fast enough. I shooed them--along with the dogs--down into the lower level.  Me? I like storms. I didn't run to the basement.  I wandered around, gathered some things, set up our little "station" in the basement and took another gander at the  television weather report.

So we're clear, please know that you should NOT waste time grabbing a camera when a storm is approaching and you SHOULD go into the basement.  And, take storms seriously. Don't get ignorant.  I have two words for you: Joplin, Missouri.  (Shout out and prayers to Joplin.)

Perhaps you are wondering what I gathered up for our stay in the basement.  I first want to mention the local TV anchors as the storm was heading to town. I have to say, I've never heard the weather guys get freaked out by a storm....they usually are all excited, babbling as they explain to us what's on the radar.  In this case, there were two male meteorologists and one female non-weather anchor on the channel, all three talking about the pending arrival of the storm--just their voices, only the radar image on the screen. Their station is out in the boonies, way out on the west side of town, surrounded by cornfields and not much else. Suddenly, they started sounding REALLY nervous.  I think the lady might have been crying.  You could hear the storm rocking the TV station.  It was at this point the three of them realized they needed to take cover.  I'm paraphrasing, but the head meteorologist basically said, "I know we are here to keep the 300,000 persons of the area informed, but we are going to the basement!"  With that, there was only the radar and the sound of the storm.  I was pretty incredulous--I have never heard TV personnel abandon ship like that.  Makes sense, though.  I took this as a bad sign but wasn't very fazed.  Yet.

So, what did I gather when wandering around before the storm landed in the Addiverse?  Well, I would like to tell you the first thing I grabbed had to do with safety, but in reality it was my camera.  I didn't put it down one time during the entire ordeal.  Camera in hand, I made sure we had the safety supplies in the basement: flashlights, extra batteries, a few candles, one of those lighter things for the grill, the wife's cell phone and a bag of Ghiardelli dark chocolate.  (One must have priorities when being safe.)  Next, I put the collars and leashes on the dogs--I wanted to make sure people would know who they were and where they belonged if they blew away.  Seriously. By this time, the hail was pelting the house.  I then secured the important things: my laptop and my purse, stuffing my purse with as much as would fit, including a baggy full of those ever-so-coveted O.B. Super Plus tampons.  (The hell if I was gonna let those things blow away. They're like gold.)  I thought about grabbing my Xena scrapbook.....but, my thoughts were interrupted by the increasing volume, rumbling and growling of the storm.  I literally stopped in my tracks and listened to the roar of the approaching storm.  It did indeed sound like a train.....


I stopped farting around and took myself right to the basement.  You know things are serious if I'm in the basement.

We sat there and listened.  We waited. And, waited. And, waited.  As the roar got louder, I asked aloud, "so, which IS the safest wall if a tornado approaches?" 

Finally, the storm passed and we were no worse for the wear.  We didn't even have time to eat the chocolate. I can't say the same for others--there was damage to be had for many of our friends.  Blue Eyes and Master Pastor Reiki learned that a funnel cloud was spotted right by their neighborhood--so, they hopped in their car and sped home to ensure all was semi-well.  The TV personnel returned to their places, the dogs no longer had to wear their leashes, the wife returned to the couch and the Xena scrap book and boxes of O.B. super-plus tampons remained unscathed.

I had me some leftover cheesecake and called it a day.  After all, I had to be rested up for the next day's event: the release of Gaga's album.  The rest, as they say, would be history.