I was going to write about every time a tornado damaged my property or that of someone I cared about, not to mention lost pets and livestock. It goes way back to childhood. No one I knew was killed in one, so yes I should go on and on about how grateful I am and that things can be replaced.
But. Being close to those things can traumatize you. I saw that in my son’s eyes today. We’ve shared tornado trauma, and he had it again yesterday when one came out of nowhere and threw debris around him and his partner. They each made it inside, but my goodness, that was scary, especially when the roof proceeded to peel off.
Anyway, I got all nauseated driving home from our shortened trip to Waco. So many downed trees and damaged buildings. And it was worse in Temple, the closest large town to us. Houses moved off their foundations and such.
Right by our place there were huge round hay bales that flew over the highway. I’d hate to be driving when that happened! We lost a water trough and all my horse training barrels went far away. Glad we’re okay, though.
It just got to me this afternoon and I had to lay down. Goldie joined me and insisted on laying her head on my hand, so I napped as long as she did.
Hope I’m better tomorrow. Too many tornado memories. Do I have any humor?
The Hermits' Rest 