about molly | art | writings | contact me | home

the avra valley dispatch:

July 25 2005 - Microbursts

"Microburst my eye, that was a tornado."

So says a coworker of mine, who lives almost in Avra Valley but spends a lot of time out here.

Apparently my little corner of the valley is "tornado alley." Considering this is now the second time I've lost a roof since I moved here, I'm inclined to believe this. My damages were limited -- a porch roof, gutters I was planning to replace anyway, a few trees uprooted, and some limbs lost. Tree limbs.

Last Wednesday, while I was having the longest hour of my life at a West Coast Swing Dance lesson,^mb1 a tornado -- or rather a microburst, according to the weather service -- paid a call on my neighbourhood. I didn't make it home on Wednesday night and instead arrived home late Thursday evening, when most of the tornado evidence was was hidden under the dark of night. I got out of my car to remove some branches that were blocking my laneway, and pulled up to the house to find my muskoka chairs leaning against the neighbours' fence, and my spiff Herman Miller cushions sitting in mud puddles.

Hm, strong wind, I think.

I putter in the kitchen for a bit and then have a shower. I go into the bedroom and notice a dirty puddle of water near face="Arial">Wow, we had sideways rain. Came right through the doors.^mb2

I open the curtains, and sure enough -- there are muddy raindrops all over my sliding glass doors. This is a new event! Rain has never reached my sliding glass doors!

Wow, I say.

Then I look up and see stars.

Wow, I say.^mb3

The roof is gone.

In the morning, it's revealed that my gutters are gone too, and the mesquite by the guest house has been uprooted and the pine by the guest house has a few dangling limbs. The guest house -- a vintage Terry Trailer -- is unscathed, remarkably. A tornado went through and missed a trailer.

My neighbours did not fare as well. On my street alone, there are three totalled mobile homes and several houses missing roofs. A fellow several blocks away who kept peacocks and an emu lost all of his birds. The roosters and turkeys next door were killed. If I hadn't given my geese away,^mb4 they would have been killed too.

A disaster fund has been set up with the VFW post on El Tiro if you know of anyone affected by the storm.

Needless to say, any subsequent vacillations I may have had about not selling my house have subsided -- at least until I get things cleaned up. In addition to my own stuff scattered about, I have bits and pieces of other people's houses in my yard. The fabulous ancient creosote bush on my back acre is decorated with the pink insulation ripped from a totalled mobile home three blocks away. I certainly have several weekends' worth of yard work ahead of me.

However, the potential suitor^mb5 came by this weekend and earned major bonus points by helping me repair and get my porch roof hammered back on, so that's looked after. Next weekend, a chainsaw massacre is scheduled.

I'll have seasoned mesquite for sale in a few months.

:

Footnotes.

Microburst 1:

I can do what I call "personal dancing" -- freeform dancing by myself: shimmying, hip shaking, snake arms, whatever -- but I really need to work on scripted, choreographed partner dancing. "You can't follow," the potential suitor tells me. I know, I know. I'm working on it, believe me.

MIcroburst 2:

In southern Ontario, we never had normal, float down from the sky precipitation -- it always came at you sideways, whether it was snow or rain. Umbrellas were useless.

Microburst 3:

Sometimes I wonder about myself. Last spring, when I came home to no carport and a roofless shed, all I could say was Whoa! A year later, I come home to a roofless verandah, and I just say Wow. I need to rethink and perhaps adjust my level of this non-attachment stuff.

Microburst 4:

From a letter written to the (old) boyfriend --

A nice man from Catalina came and got the goose friends on Saturday afternoon. His wife works with Habitat for Humanity and he works for another non-profit that helps people get back on their feet. So, a decent fellow...

He was interested in the geese not only because he thought his kids would get a kick out of them -- he came to get the geese during the kids' naptime, so they'd have a surprise when they woke up -- but because he knew that they can be territorial. He wants that. I think he has some d o p e y d a w g s who aren't as sentinel-esque as he'd like.

I managed to catch all four geese by myself. I dressed for it -- rubber gloves, boots, play clothes. They were squawking and crying -- literally sad tears crying...and oh so much SLOBBER -- and running around frantically. I used one of the big ol' red towels in a toro-toro manoeuvre to sedate them. Once I was over top of them with the towel, they each gave up...hunkered down, whimpering. It was heartbreaking. I wrapped them up in the towel so they couldn't scratch me, and put them in uhaul boxes and taped the lids shut. I put spinach in the boxes for them.

I caught Lono last and gave her extra strokes and hugs -- I felt the saddest about letting her go. She was very receptive to affection once she was in my arms. I made cooing noises next to her head and gave her extra spinach. I almost changed my mind right there -- but, I know it doesn't make sense for them to be home lonely all day. He wrote me this morning that they're slowly getting used to the new yard -- but it's kinda big for them. They stick within a 6 foot radius of their food and water. I hope their curiosity kicks in...

But, his kids are thrilled and the geese have a good home, so it's all ok by me.

Microburst 5:

The bonus points should warrant a new adjective. Perhaps "likely suitor" rather than "potential suitor." Giving up a day to help some chick nail her roof back on ought to afford one a more certain, more definite adjective. In any case, at the very least, he's been given the official pseudonym Jimmy Riggins in honour of his on the fly structural engineering expertise and brute strength. Doncha just love a big ol' hunka sweaty man?