Fur In The Paint

So I am crunching some inventory numbers while simultaneously jockeying the card printer, when I receive a call from Mike saying to get the van in the garage it’s hailing at the farm. The farm is about 3 miles from the gallery as the crow flies, so I pop out quickly whilst staring at the ominous skyline and promptly pull the van into one of the garage bays of my gallery building. As the garage door trundles shut the rain begins.

I dash to the front door and see my new precious pink geraniums outside and ponder running out to get them. Nope, too late. The wind starts driving the rain in a torrential downpour and all I can do is lock the front door. The wind actually changed direction several times (that’s one of those things that creeps me out because living on the tip of tornado alley rapidly changing wind is never a good thing.)

The hail begins to fall. Pretty much pea size. Budda totally bug-eyed runs up to me, then darts behind a plant, then runs back to me. And then . . . all hell . . . um, all hail breaks loose.

The hail gets bigger (a little larger than marble size) and pelts the front of the gallery. I close my blinds (you know like that will help) and me and the cat step far away from the windows. I don’t know how much rain we received but it was a rushing torrent of floating hail down the street. The wind whipping it so hard it made waves.

It was pretty much over in 20 minutes. No real harm done. Well except for my geraniums. I haven’t had the heart to check my garden. Driving home seeing all the damage the hail did to the fields I decided not to get too pouty about loosing my flowers and tomatoes.

Anyway, I promise to post about my Red Buffalo tomorrow.

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