Right now, we are counting our blessings. It is green and lush as far as the eye can see. There are rolling green oceans of corn and beans nodding their heads to you as you drive by. Really one of my favorite times of the year in Iowa. Now, if only I could get some sleep and that vision of Garth Brooks out of my head.
I never sleep well when there are storms in the area, especially when the Captain is gone. I feel wholly responsible for two little lives and always keep one ear open. Come to think of it I do this when the Captain is home too. He has that enviable attribute of being able to sleep through anything, and usually does. Me, I have to get up, check the radar, make my calculations, worry a bit, unplug expensive electrical devices, and then cover my head with a large pillow.
Growing up, I hated storms. Hated them. I think my Dad's farmer anxiety seeped into me, and I would rather just be up with him and mom. I preferred to be up with them on the couch right outside their bedroom. I spent many a night there worrying out the storms. One bad storm with a few hail stones could knock out a whole year's work and profits. There is nothing like the sucker-punched feeling of seeing a luscious green field of corn or beans torn to smithereens by hail. This happened yesterday in a small town close by where they reported grapefruit size hail. Looks about grapefruit size, eh?