Living in West Texas, the coming of spring is discovered in different ways than up north. There is no crocus pushing up through the snow. No - in West Texas, it's the first green of the dandelions in your lawn. Your iris' beginning to put on new broad leaves. The dirt blowing so hard you can't see more than two blocks and the sky turns brown. And of course, the most definite sign of spring....
The appearance of Ron Roberts on channel 28. To report on the latest round of thunderstorms and tornados and hail and torrential rain. Weeeehaaaa! Spring has sprung!
Last weekend we had a couple rounds of storms, including twisters over in New Mexico, and my favorite, low energy funnels in Lubbock during lunch on Sunday. My darling M, while down south at the lake "relaxing," was too busy cleaning bass to answer my phone calls informing him that his wife and children were about to take a trip to Oz, and to be sure and feed the dog because we don't want her to be barking at Toto and we'd miss him and for heaven's sake, DO NOT GIVE AWAY MY CLOTHES because I'm sure we'll only be gone a few days.
Of course, it wasn't anywhere near our home, and I did get a great deal of amusement of watching the plethora of Tech students who climbed on top of their duplexes to see if they could see the funnels, despite the large amount of thunder and lightening. Hey - we're in Texas. When there is a twister in the area, you can find us in two places - the front yard or the back yard. (or the roof apparently if you're young and immortal) The kids did get to see their first "live" funnel and as they are their mother's sons, both were tickled to death.
Last night we had another round, with bad storms off the east, then a line developing around bedtime on the Tx/NMX state border. I had hoped that we wouldn't have any rain out in Hicksville, because the ground is beyond saturated, and we can't get the house bricked until it dries out. I quickly gave up that wish in favor of praying that there would be no GOLF BALL SIZED HAIL! break out all of the windows in the new house and ruin everything inside. I spent two hours gritting my teeth and saying over and over "Thy will, Lord...thy will. If you must have rain, then let it rain. If you have a reason for busting out our windows and having us start all over, thy will, Lord. Thy will. But if you could have that hail dodge us, Lord, we sure would appreciate it."
M went by this morning. Lots of rain, no hail that he could see. The new trees he planted last week still have their leaves. My iris' that were planted by the road aren't shredded (unlike the ones in my flower beds in Lubbock).
Thy will, Lord. And thank you.