Just over nine years ago we moved away from Wisconsin, which is located on the north eastern edge of tornado alley. I remember hearing the tornado sirens being tested during the summer months. Tornado season generally lasted from about May to November.
I remember the first few times we heard the sirens go off, Larry and I would huddle down in the basement with our portable radio until the all clear had been sounded. After a few years we became a bit more blasé about the whole thing.
When we left Wisconsin I cried the day we pulled away from our house for the last time. Part of it was the onslaught of new mother hormones (Jake was just 6 weeks old), but I had also come to love the Midwest. I had a great job and lots of friends that I was leaving behind. But one thing I was not going to miss was the weather. I can’t stand the shear unpredictability of tornados.
Fast forward to last Friday night. As I was puttering about late that night a huge, rip-snorting thunderstorm cut loose. I was stunned by the lighting strikes, great brilliant flashes that lit the whole yard. I had the TV on and after a while the show was interrupted by the breathless announcement of a tornado warning.
It’s freaking January. I know it has been unusually warm, but a tornado warning?
I was offended enough by the thunderstorm. Growing up in the northeast, I never had encountered a thunderstorm in January. The addition of the tornado warning was just plain wrong.
And the capper to all this, the wind gusts blew the tarp right off of the shed. Our poor, beautifully roof papered shed with just one course of shingles. When the thunderstorm/tornado moved on I ran out and recovered the shed. It was going to rain all night. Fortunately we had used the pricier paper and it survived the deluge and the interior of the shed had remained dry.
So what I want to know is when is it going to be winter?