If you don't know the definition of paraskavedekatriaphobia, don't worry. I didn't either until I looked it up. First, I don't believe in bad luck. Never have. Never will.
I graduated high school on that day in 1975 and for the next 33 years I observed Friday the 13th with reverence. Not anymore.
Yesterday, we had a tornado hit less than a quarter-mile from our house. I was outside at the time assessing the damage from the winds that started during the night. The first thing I heard was the sound of a run-away freight train and then, off to the west saw a 40-foot long aluminum roof fly off a new equipment shed, fly 30 feet up in the air and then crumble onto the ground about 400 feet away (towards me).
Later in the day we heard more wind gusts (they continued, by the way, until early this morning). NOAA had our area under a high wind warning with possible gusts above 65 mph. The agency was right - pretty good considering it doesn't have a cabinet-level secretary running the Commerce Department yet.
And then, this morning we saw what the storm left us:
I fed and watered the birds. The fountain broke and tumbled over
early yesterday
and Rich Little, ourNorthern Mockingbird,
stared at melike he was giving me the finger.
Danny Kaye, our Red-Bellied Woodpecker was the only bird to stay at the feeder, hanging onto the suet feeder for dear life.
Then came the tiring task of collecting all of the shingles. A few were in the backyard. Several more in our landlord's yard, some in the road in front of the house and even more in neighbor's yards across the road. I even found one a half-mile away.
Once the landlord gets back from his bus run, hopefully we can assess the damage. With potential rain and snow forecast for Valentine's Day I hope we can at least get a tarp on the roof and maybe even repair it today.
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