Bread, wine and tornadoes

Here's what happened last night:
It had been a rainy Saturday and the forecast called for continuing rain with the possibility of severe thunderstorms through the late afternoon/evening hours and into the night. I'm lovin' in because I love storms. Sure enough; radar indicates several fast-moving cells working their way up from Nebraska into southeastern South Dakota. They're headed our way. 5:50 p.m. The alert whistle blows, just as Stacey, Ella and I are getting ready to head over to mops and pops for supper. I'm pumped. Stacey's freaked. We head over to the folks'. Power goes out. The gray lights grows darker. Mr. Weatherman says a major storm cell is headed right for Freeman. Tornado warning is in effect for our county. We go to the basement. With the power out the warning sirens can't sound. Soon we hear firetrucks driving through city streets with rescue personnel on bullhorns: "Tornado warning," they say through the dark gray air. "Take cover." Eerie! It's POURING. I'm pumped. Stacey's freaked. Dad and I head out with cameras. Get a shot. We retreat. Mom's worried about grandma. We tear over there to to check on her. Lightning is cracking all around us. It's POURING. Grandma's OK but mom tells her to get to the basement. Back to the house. BREATH ... BREATH ...

It was freakin' awesome.

In the end, no tornadoes came (not to Freeman, anyhow). The power came back on shortly thereafter, the all-clear siren sounded, and dinner was served! Grilled sausage, grilled vegies, bread and wine. Perfect. The whole experience was wonderful. Stacey would have you believe differently, of course, but she hates storms.

Press her, however, and you might just get her to admit that last night's experience was pretty cool.

It was that and more.