No, not that one.
After writing an admittedly dull and commonplace entry last week, I was casting around for something a bit more interesting. How about a discussion of the little goats in the garage (yes, the garage) and their feeding habits? How about a forward look at plans for the vegetable garden?
Then Mother Nature threw a subject in front of me. Literally threw it.
Thursday, April 9 started out reasonably normally for northern Illinois. It was muggy. I told some friends on Facebook that, as I cleaned out a flowerbed, it felt like gardening on the seashore. I could even smell the ocean. It was in the mid-60s, having been only in the 40s the day before. Weird weather. A storm was predicted for the end of the day; it was shaping up to be a big one.
As is typical after a terrible storm, morning came clear, and fair.
I headed into the house, and grabbed a cup of coffee. Looking out the back window, I saw a piece of debris I'd missed. Thinking it was just a piece of board, I headed out anyway, to pick it up. I found a memory.
Rochelle and a neighboring town, Fairdale, received the brunt of the storm. Two ladies were killed in Fairdale, which, essentially, doesn't exist anymore. Rochelle was also hit hard, although full reports on damage are not yet complete for either town. Its been a sobering end to the week.
I looked him up and found his place of business. I called and left a message. Minutes later, he texted me. With some deletions for privacy, this is how our conversation went.
I do know that I'll be more respectful in the future of those warning notices on my phone. I'll head to the basement sooner, watch more carefully, and keep emergency supplies stocked downstairs. (We already did that, in case you wonder.)
I should ask him, too, if he's missing a special edition copy of Star Wars. It showed up about a mile north of us, in the yard of a friend of Mary's.