It was supposed to be the storm of three decades. National News predicting 20+ tornadoes in our area. Hail the size of softballs had already been dropped to our west.
My husband arrived home. I told him we had a window slamming problem, as the roll out window in our master bathroom had managed to unhook itself, and the wind, the was gusting only to about 45mph, was lifting it and slamming it down. As he stood on his make shift pedestal, reattaching what had come undone, I asked him if we should be worried about the calf. I informed him of all the hail. He grumbled something at me, not really answering. I took that as a don't fret and went inside to make dinner before we lost power.
A few minutes past and my husband came flying into the house. The sky had already began to spit. Where is the calf? he asked in desperation. "She's with Edie." NO!. "Where's my boots!" I yelled at the kids. Someone had moved them, and I was feeling a little to desperate. I didn't take the time to pull on and tie my combat boots. Instead I slipped on a pair of winter hunting boots. Ones that hadn't seen shoelaces in years. I flew out the door as fast as the over sized shoes would allow me.
I ran straight out into the field, and there, behind the manure laid the calf. I tried to pick her up, yelling at my husband. Something is wrong with my wrists, and I was unable to grip her. My husband scooped her up, and for some reason I glanced behind me. A wall of water, a torrential down pour that obscure everything it covered was moving through our field. "RUN!" I screamed. My husband and I ran as fast as we could into the barn, a calf in his arms. We weren't fast enough, and we were wet through an' through before stepping foot into the barn. The wind was blowing so hard, that there was little place to hide in the barn. All the goats were huddled together, adult cows running around. "Gates open" I told my husband. "Windows open" he informed me.
We braved the rain, Edie running into the goat pen looking for her calf, calf in the other side of the barn, my husband ran to shut the back gate as I made my way to the house.
My boots were impeding my movements. I shed them at the front gate, scooped them up and ran barefoot as fast as I could to the house, only to find that my children had shut the house down. Shortly after I made it into the house, my husband followed. We grabbed towels, and changed clothing. My husband's head, where that cowboy hat sits, was the only thing dry.
We hunkered down, listen to the wind and the rain. "I asked you before the rain started about the calf." I think I remember you saying something "So the hail was something to worry about with her?" Yep, it would have been like chasing her around and hitting her with a hammer. We turned the news on, a tornado had popped up south of us. No hail emerged on our farm.
It turned out not to be the worst storm we had seen in 30 plus years. Only 4 tornadoes instead of over 20. But it was the hardest I have ran since high school track.