Last night on the news, we heard we would be under a High Wind Warning mid-way through the night and into mid-morning, and I woke up this morning to the sound of solid objects spinning around outside our house. I saw garbage bags flying in the neighborhood, and Suzanne told me she saw hunks of tin flying in our street. I swear I thought for a minute I had woken up back in Delta, where the wind comes whippin’ down the plain 24/7. But no, I was here in Centerville, where bigly winds are not the norm. Today’s winds, however, were interfering with our garbage and recycling pick-up. I decided not to even take our cans to the curb. This windstorm was nothing like the one that came through a few months ago, which uprooted trees everywhere in our neck of the woods, and took out the power for three days. I am at the age that I calculate the severity of any kind of storm based on how much tv I have to miss because the power is out. Flying sheets of tin or not, I judge this morning’s storm to ultimately be a lightweight piece o’ weather, because the television didn’t lose power for even one second. I was not inconvenienced one bit. That’s my kind of weather.
