our dogs’ names: charley, moe, clem, lucy.
jude’s names for our dogs: sheshe, moe, meow, bao! (lucy makes this noise often.)
Archive for May, 2010
our dogs’ names: charley, moe, clem, lucy.
so, i was going to tell a story about going to tiny, tx this weekend, and how all was going very well until the tornado. so there was a tornado, and Take Cover Now Don’t Wait for Further Updates warnings from the weather service. h and jude and nana and i hid out in the hallway–the innermost part of nana’s house. we were almost safe in there, save for the doorless entryway into the room of very glass knickknacks. so it was us and pillows and blankets and milk and cheese and books for jude. and nana’s macbook, for my incessant need to know exactly what is happening on the radar. i am staff meteorologist.
in this story, i was going to tell you all how jude was hyper and excited and cranky all at once. she tried to jump on the macbook. i advised her to not do that. she smacked me hard in the face. i gingerly set the macbook down, took her face in my hands and reminded her of the fact that, in our family, we do.not.hit.ever. in the 7 seconds it took to have this conversation, h accidentally stepped on the macbook i was trying to protect. the screen now had a lovely sunburst and diagonal crack. we didn’t want to tell nana about it while hiding from a tornado. i turned the screen away as i watched the radar. nana thought the big black line in the middle was the tornado upon us. she began to panic.
i am very very very afraid of tornadoes. they are my worst phobia. ever. nana is also very very afraid of tornadoes. the difference between us is that she does not have an inner monologue. the wind raged. that’s not good, she said. the hail battered. that’s never a good thing, she said. silence. silence is the worst, she said.
in my head, i was reeling, rocking back and forth. on the outside, i was just quiet and trying not to freak out my child.
did i mention that i’d also seen the fucking funnel cloud out the bathroom window? and it looked just like my recurring nightmares? true.
the storm passed. the tornado stayed in the sky. we confessed to nana that the tornado wasn’t causing the blackness on the screen. we promised to pay for a replacement. we lived.
so yeah, i was about to tell this story and then a big scary severe thunderstorm with hail came barreling down the radar just now, so i’m gonna tell it another time.
moral of untold story: i survived a non-touching down tornado with my mother in law, and my phobia is still intact!
of all the places i’ve lived in my life, nashville is home. it will always be home, always be a safe place to return to. and right now, my home needs our help.
the community with which i shared six years of my life is suffering. by now, most of you will have read stories of record rainfall, biblical flooding, underwater landmarks, giant carp fished out of the waters with bare hands. however, national news organizations have been shit about properly covering the actual story. underneath the headlines about an almost-car-bombing and a disastrous oil spill, you’ll likely see some photos of a flooded downtown, an updated death toll, and statistics without context. what is missing from those stories is the urgent need for assistance. now.
here are some things you may not know: one of two water treatment plants were destroyed, leaving a very real threat of running out of potable water. roads are completely washed out. entire neighborhoods are underwater. parents have been washed away trying to save their children. old married couples, en route to church, drowned, only to be found behind a grocery store the next day. as a nashville blogger wrote yesterday:
The Cumberland River crested at its highest level in over 80 years. Nashville had its highest rainfall totals since records began. People drowned. Billions of dollars in damage occurred. It is the single largest disaster to hit Middle Tennessee since the Civil War. And yet…no one knows about it.
my home needs our help. will you spread the word? if you can, text ‘REDCROSS’ to 90999 to donate $10 to disaster relief.
to read more of the real story, visit the tennessean, nashville’s local newspaper.
ETA: nashvillians, please feel free to tell your stories in the comments.
at 20 weeks, i can see my belly move as ziggy somersaults about. whoa.