The Furry Godmother

Blown Over

Hud came back from running with Zoe this morning.  Misty-eyed, he cradled a small package in his hands, carried it to the garden and buried it. 

He had found a mother robin on the trail.  Still in her nest.  Her eggs broken on her chest.  A sad symbol of the deadly storms that ravaged the south these long three days.

 

We survived, with a basement full of water and my last good nerve in tact.  The Buckeye in the front yard was cracked in two.  I will mourn the loss of the swallowtail butterflies.  Buckeye trees are the nursery for swallowtails.  They leave their offspring nowhere else.

I guess the little momma bird would not desert hers either, despite the seventy mile an hour winds and hail.

My heart goes out to the families of the 128 people who lost their lives in the tornadoes that peppered five states.  I am without words for those who lost their homes.  The devastation is horrendous. 

And I count my blessings that we didn't leave any worse for wear.

*This is a picture taken by bbell88 at Rhodes College on the backside of Palmer Hall, during the storms yesterday*

 

Singing in the Rain

The weather forecasters have ominously warned of tornadoes, straight line winds and heavy flooding rains for the past two days.  My anxiety levels have reached Mt. McKinley highs.  But all of the pets?   Look like this:

Their nonchallance has me wondering if I am delusional.  Am I hyper vigilant over a simple storm?

In my turbulent youth, I loved a good rowdy thunderstorm. Once, following a sleep over at my friend's house, the twins mother called mine to ask her to come and pick me up.  It was raining very hard.  The winds were roiling.

"No," my mother replied calmly, "She'll want to walk."

And I did.  I did want to pull up my scarlett rain boots.  Bundle up in my pink slicker.  Hop in every puddle from Blendon to Hillsboro Drive.  I twirled my round pink patent leather overnighter around me.  It took me forty-five minutes to make it home.  I sang every minute despite the fact that I have never been able to carry a tune in a bucket.

It was one of the happiest memories of my childhood.