Listening to a Tornado

There have been several Spring thunderstorms here lately, with lots of rain and strong winds. The weather radio alerted me to the coming storm, so I was able to bring all the potted tomato, pepper and petunia plants inside.

Then came a tornado warning for the little  nearby town. The sky was dark to the southwest. I put on wool socks and rubber boots, grabbed my purse and the big flashlight and headed toward the fruit cellar.  Then I saw it. Hanging down from the dark sky was a wedge tornado. It wasn't touching down and I couldn't tell if it was rotating. There was no time to take a picture.

Down in the cold fruit cellar,  I heard what surely sounded like a tornado.

One other time in my life I heard a tornado. It was 1957. We had gone to the basement because the sky looked creepy. My mom was going to the A&P grocery store in nearby Ruskin Heights. However, she didn't like the look of the sky. In those days, people didn't depend on Weather Radio. My older sister was at some school function. We thought she'd come home. We heard what sounded at first like the overhead garage door opening. It was a manual one; perhaps they hadn't invented the motorized type. Anyway, the sound didn't quit.

Later, we learned on the t.v. (yes, it had been invented) that a tornado had wiped out that grocery store and a subdivision. Most of the houses didn't have basements. 37 people were killed.

The sound is like a roll of thunder or a train, but there are no breaks in the sound. It just goes on and on. It's very loud. I had my cell phone and left word for Chris and Lis to check on me. There was a strong wind and some hail. Then I believe that the tornado, sensing that I wasn't coming out, moved on.

Once heard, it's not a sound a person forgets. There is nothing like it.

The next day, I found this living hickory broken at the base. The tornado sound was so loud that I didn't hear it fall, though it wasn't far from the fruit cellar. The damage here probably was just wind, because other trees were not affected. Tornadoes are not so selective.

The tornado was listed among several in the area that day. It had touched down and uprooted some trees and did some structural damage right around the time when I saw it.

Lots of people in Missouri who remember the Ruskin Heights tornado are quick to seek shelter when there is a possibility of a house being dropped on us. We don't have the hubris that keeps us watching an approaching funnel to see what happens.

R.I.P. Rooster

Rooster is seen no more. I spotted what was either his body or a big pile of his feathers lodged far up in the shallow underside of the playhouse, inaccessible to me.

I almost got new chicks at the feed store, but decided to just manage on the three bothersome hens for the present. They have a habit of scratching up flower beds in order to make dust baths, never the same area twice. More little fences are in order.

Life goes on for the hens after the passing of Rupert. They hang around together or go their own ways, occasionally laying an egg. I believe they designate a layer every few days so they appear to be useful. Or it could be only one of them is still laying. Buffy produces a soft-shelled egg occasionally.  It's very quiet without Rupert's crowing.

On a happier note, some much-needed rains brought out the morels.

The day before yesterday, there they were, popping up big and easy to find. The undergrowth is springing up with the rain, so every day they will be more elusive.

These were drying some out a bit on top, but they were quite delicious. This is a regular size dinner plate.

The rains were most welcome because every day that it was dry, I was out digging and planting and thought my labors would never end. However, I did get the main garden cultivated and planted to beans, black-eyed peas, zucchini, corn and parsnips.

The farmers were driving down the gravel/dirt road as if to a fire, creating clouds of dust. I was forced to wear a surgical mask whenever I heard them coming, because my place is on the north side of the road and the wind is usually from the south.

Even though there could be a later frost, I took a cue from the farmers and went ahead and planted the potted flowers. That freed up the pots for transplanting the tomatoes and peppers. They are getting bigger out on the back deck and front porch.

Suddenly, all green things have broken loose. Mowing will be the order of the day when it dries out a bit. Meanwhile, there was another shower last night, so Lissa is coming up for a morel hunt. I hate to admit it, but she is much better than finding them than I am.

The Early Garden Struggles into Being

The strong winds have been a little rough on the early garden. I've even had to water four times. The hoops did warm the soil and I got the onions, Melody Spinach, Easter Egg Radishes and 4-Seasons lettuces planted.  Little Sweetie snow peas (Stokes) are ready to grow up the sticks. A few days ago, I found a spot for the Swiss Chard, soon to appear.

This bed has more leafy greens-to-be, onions and some larkspur at the far end. Against the fence is the Cottage Corner bed. Every few years some of the perennial flowers get overtaken by grasses and I dig them up and plant some other perennials. This year, I said farewell to a Shasta Daisy and one Missouri Primrose.

The blue bucket has a cracked bottom, so rainwater drains right out. This corner area was used for trash burning by the former owners. I dug out the rusted burn barrel bottom, but every time I work the soil, old rusty nails surface, along with odd things like watches. I toss all the junk in the blue bucket.

The broccoli and cabbages aren't making great growth. It could be the desiccating high winds or the eighty degree days followed by freezing nights.  They will come through. I put  buckets over them the other night when the temperature got down to twenty-three degrees. They can take a bit of a chill, but nothing akin to midwinter. I could cover them with the hoops but they don't like heat.

It's amazing that more people don't garden. It's so relaxing.

Lining Up on the Runway

I'm just waiting for the frost-free date, whenever that might be. Meanwhile, some of the plants have gotten too big for their britches. Those guys, like the Evening Primroses above, have been put in bigger pots., which they quickly grew into.

The plants in the red pots are butterfly bushes. They are tricky to grow from seed. When one hundred seeds are offered in a package it's a tip-off that the seed will be as tiny as dust and thinning will be a challenge. I managed to get four started this time. Colors will be a surprise.

In the back are Love Lies Bleeding. Sounds gory, but I always wanted to try them. They are from Stokes Seeds.

The new babies are some Lady Seymour Pinks. I got a little carried away and started two dozen, for a border edging.

Last year, grasshoppers ate the Bishop's Children (that really sounds gory) Dahlias, so I had to have some more of those. There are petunias, gazanias, coleus, portulaca, Early Sunrise Coreopsis, Pacifica Vinca and Victoria Salvia waiting for clearance to take off.

Now that it's April, everyone can go out  in the daytime. Finding spots out of the fierce wind has been challenging. A person would think there would be one lee side of the house.

This is the time when I ask myself why I needed so many of any one plant. The answer is I'm a gardener. That's what we do. Finding room for all these guys, plus the many day lilies I ordered, will be fun.

It's been rather dry, so I've had an opportunity to dig up some weeds and cultivate for the new arrivals. Actually, that's putting it too mildly. Basically, I knocked myself out with the weeder, the turning fork and Tillie, the Mantis tiller. There were great tubs of weeds that I pulled up. Somewhere in one of those piles is my favorite hand hoe, lost in the frenzy.

The Swiss Giant Pansies got to be planted in the real dirt, because they supposedly can take a light frost. I was very excited. The fence is to keep the hens out.

Of course, the trick is whisking all nine trays of plants back inside when there is sudden hail. So far, it's only happened once and the hail was tiny.