
Tuesday evening we had a nice get-together in the man-cave. Barbara Howard and her daughter Marsha joined us as we rode out the super cell that cruised through town. My weather radio rousted me from bed about 11:00 with the news that the storm that had been in eastern New Mexico was now in Bushland and would arrive on our doorstep about 11:30. Joyce called the neighbors and Barbara. Kari and the girls were already at the shop by the time we got there and I went across the street to collect Barbara and Marsha. The storm arrived on schedule and the civil defense sirens began to wail. Even Chris, who generally prefers to ride out storms in the rigging, joined us bringing Tino with him. I can tell you, it was nice to be in the man-cave and not fear for life and limb. That of course didn’t stop us from worrying about damage but there is a difference, a matter of priorities. In the cave the hail was a low rumble. In the shop it was deafening. Even Sidney the shop kitty wanted to come down but stayed on the stairs because of the fearsome Tino. We had the TV on watching the weather report complete with tornado sightings but the next day we learned none touched down. When the storm had passed we emerged to a chilly but fragrant world with a covering of ice. The air smelled fresh and clean with a hint of pine from the shredded foliage everywhere. My vines will have to start over. Joyce had just completed planting the garden. Her tomato plants seemed to have done OK but she’ll have to replant peppers and probably some other things. The hail ranged in size from pea size to near golfball. Some parts of town had windows broken out by large hail but we escaped that. If one looks closely, dents on facia and and guttering can be seen. Kari’s freshly planted roses are much the worse for wear. A few limbs came down and every tree and shrub had its leaves thinned out and the ground underneath looks like a green carpet. All of this will have to be raked up and disposed of so now I’ve got something to do this summer. On the bright side, the hail pulverized the unsightly dead weeds all over the place which leaves the green grass showing. Although the hail broke our rain gauge, Joyce and I estimate we may have gotten as much as an inch of rain/moisture with the storm and that along with the other rain we’ve gotten recently should stimulate the grass nicely. No doubt I’ll be mowing once I get the place raked.
One of the chickens was found dead on the chicken house floor one day this week. No sign of fowl play.
Joyce heard toads croaking from the pond area so maybe Lonesome Toad wasn’t the last.
The neighbors are hand feeding a little blue jay, a victim of Tuesday’s storm and we have a discombobulated dove in a cage in our backyard to protect it from the cats while it recovers, we hope. Several birds were found that did not survive the hail.


The century plant is doing its century thing. Last time, which was less than a century ago, I think, the stalk was outside of the adjacent tree line but this time it is underneath the trees overhang, which may cause some conflict.
Saturday Chris took several loads of raking and limbs to the city chipper, including one from my yard. He packed it as high as he could but we still only managed to load about half of what there was to haul off just from my yard.