Tornado

It’s Saturday night. We had two events to attend, and at the last minute Evan and I decided to not go to either. It had started to rain and the winds were picking up. We decided it was a good night to stay home. I got in my pajamas and grabbed a book. The boys decided to head to the neighbor’s to jump on the trampoline in the rain.

Then the weather alert on our phones sounded. Thunderstorm warning. We turned on the news to see that the forecasters were tracking bad weather very near us. The boys walked in the front door just as our phones sounded again. Tornado warning. We grabbed the puppy and headed for cover. The windows rattled hard and then the unmistakeable sound of a freight train. We knew then a tornado was over us. 60-90 seconds and it was over. Just like that. 

The next few hours were filled with alarms, sirens, gas leaks, dripping roof, wet floors, police officers, reporters, and chaos. It wasn’t until the next morning that we could see the extent to which the tornado damaged our neighborhood.

The following Sunday hundreds of people unloaded buses looking to help. Neighbors we had never met were helping strangers clean the debris. Restaurants were donating food. A church was passing out tarps to cover the holes in our roofs. The local sanitation company sent dumpsters to help with clean up efforts. A local builder sent tractors to help remove the rubble. The Red Cross was offering assistance to those displaced. It was community exemplified like I have never seen. 

We are lucky. Our house still stands. We get to sleep in our own beds tonight. We have lost nothing but gutters. We might have buckets in the entry way to catch the rain water, but it could have been so much worse.

Ryker

Ryker may be the cutest dog ever, but I don’t yet love him. He’s wild. 

He’s teething. He jumps on me. He licks the dishwasher, the floor, the cabinets, my legs. He doesn’t like his leash. He bites. He chases the cat. He prefers to sit on the couch. He cries when he’s outside. He bites. He likes to sit in front of the stove when I’m cooking dinner. He barks at the bird feeders. Did I mention he bites?

I’m sure I will love him in about two more years when he’s too old to jump and too fat to chase the cat. 

Two more years.

That’s all.

Basketball

Evan claims his basketball career has ended. Friday night’s game was his last of the season and the last of his school career.   

Had I known that Friday night, I would have surely taken my camera. Instead, all I have are pics I have pulled from other sites. 

He has decided to play soccer exclusively. With our travel soccer team winning state, our opportunities to travel farther and play more have become more demanding. He just can’t play both and play both well when the seasons overlap. This was a tough decision for him and I’m still hoping that next fall he will some how be able to swing playing both. It saddens me he is unable to play both, and it saddens me that boys are forced to play one sport at such an early age.