Annie buzzed me on Facebook to see if we were okay post-tornado, so I thought I might give a quick drive-by post to say that Caza, Jonah and I are fine. The tornado went to the southeast of us (as it usually does -- the May 3, 1999 tornado system that destroyed much of southeastern Oklahoma City and hit its outlying suburbs struck the same area.) 6 people were killed in yesterday's storm, including a child who was struck with debris while waiting outside of a convenience store.
I'm not afraid of tornadoes (and I'm not a storm chaser like some) but I am respectful. I was on the phone with cityphonelines
when the tornado siren went off, so I checked the weather, keeping her updated. As soon as TV's Gary England (as seen in the movie "Twister") told me the tornado was headed east from Yukon (home of Garth Brooks) I told Vin, "Gotta go" and quickly cleared the bathtub of all ducks, conditioners and glass bottles and got Jonah's toddler mattress ready to place over us.
And then I prayed like mad that I wouldn't have to climb into a bathtub -- under a monkey strewn mattress -- with 2 toddlers, a weenie dog and a radio. The storm went east, leaving us pea-sized hail (hail up to double-softball size was found south of the city) and that scary yellow tornado sky.
It's springtime in Oklahoma. Although the damage is terrible to see (my cousin's wife's sister -- that means we're kin -- lost her home yesterday) and the loss of life is always shocking, it's something I've grown to be respectful of but somewhat inured to. I figure I'm far more likely to die of a stress-induced heart attack in response to Oklahoma's back-asswards politics than I am to have a house fall on me. I hope.