Tornado weather

Bob came rushing down the stairs last night at about 8:30, saying, "Everybody to the basement!" and herding the cats ahead of him. I said, "What?" and he said, "Shut off your computer, and get the cats to the basement, I'm going to go shut mine off." I hadn't been paying attention. I knew we were having bad weather, but I guess I had kind of zoned out, as I am wont to do, and although I had heard the sirens, they just didn't penetrate.

Kind of scary, that.

Anyway, Bob had been watching television, and he said that we were under a tornado warning--a warning, not a watch, which means Take Cover Now! Normally, of course, the cats jump at a chance to go to the basement, and Dinah practically knocks you over if you open the door, but last night they had no intention of going down, thank you very much.

I wasn't gentle, I'm afraid--I pushed them with my feet and forced them to go down, and wouldn't let them back up. I had grabbed my purse (wallet, keys, glasses, cell phone), my work totebag (tarot cards, current knitting project, current book, Handspring Visor), and a Diet Coke.

Bob came downstairs with his backup mini-drive, his cell phone, a HUGE ring of keys that I guess were keys to the various houses he's got under construction, his wallet, a flashlight, and a glass of water. I noticed we had both put our watches on, too.

He went back up and got another flashlight and the cordless phone (as he was heading up the stairs for the flashlight, I said, "And get the cordless phone," and as he reached for it, it rang--my mother, checking to be sure we were in the basement), and I went back up and got my battery operated television, and then we stuck the cats in the carriers in case the house blew away. We live in Kansas, so tornados aren't that rare an occurrence, but it's still pretty scary. I guess we take cover maybe two or three times a summer, and nothing has ever happened, but this one last night felt pretty scary, more so than they usually do.

It didn't occur to me until this morning that I didn't have any shoes on, and despite the volume of stuff in our basement, I doubt there were any shoes down there that would fit me. There are old clothes, a little bit of food (I use the stair landing as a pantry, but there's not a lot of stuff there), and a lot of junk. Of course, there is also all of Bob's fishing equipment, hunting clothes, etc., so if we had to go back to nature I guess we'd be in pretty good shape.

And, as Bob pointed out, my yarn stash, which should enable me to knit clothing for us from now until probably the end of time.

The cats were extremely unhappy, particularly Dinah. I'm not sure what was going on in her head (do we ever know?), but she was trying very hard to pull an entire blanket into the cat carrier through the wire mesh door. She made a really good start on it, too, actually.

I knitted for awhile while we listened to the radio and/or the television, then Bob got a phone call from a friend and I tried to sleep, which was difficult because the cat carriers were on the bed and Dinah was prowling hers like a caged beast, making the whole bed jiggle. I dozed on and off, and we went back upstairs around 10:30, I think. I asked Bob if he thought it was safe to go to bed, and he said, well, if anything happens, they'll blow the siren.

I slept pretty well, but he said he tossed and turned all night, probably listening for the siren.

A reporter for the local newspaper interviewed me for a story over the phone a week or so ago, and then last week he asked if I had any recent photos they could use in the article. I didn't, but I was out in the garden on Sunday taking some pictures, and kind of spontaneously turned the camera on myself for a self-portrait. Those seldom turn out very well for me, but I got one that wasn't too bad: