No blog post, no pictures tonight. I came home last night from a wonderful five days on the road with Jordan and Jacob. We visited my oldest daughter and her husband in Austin and then my brother and sister-in-law, their local daughter and two granddaughters. Wonderful family times, and I have great pictures to post. Too tired to post last night but had great plans for today.
This morning, at 3 a.m., a hailstorm hit with pea-sized hail; woke me but I went back to sleep. At 7 a.m., another one hit, this with golf and baseball-size hail. I was out of bed quickly but hesitant to explore too much—I could smell wetness in the house. Jacob woke about 7:30, looked out the front door and exclaimed, “It snowed! 90 degrees’ yesterday, and it snowed.” Of course, it was hail completely covering ground, street, everywhere you looked.
We explored—and found the sunroom was awash. Everything was wet—ceiling, floor, furniture, and—worst of all—most of the books I’ve written over a long career. A crew came to help—Jordan, neighbors, my contractor and the roofer. They have saved what they could and I have filed an insurance claim and called in a restoration company. But it’s bad, folks, really bad.
I am reminded of what a minister once said to me. I had a friend who didn’t believe but so envied my faith and that of a Jewish friend that she said to me, “I just think I can believe, and God lets the tsunami happen.” I asked my minister what to say to her, and he said, “Shit happens. God shows us the way forward.”