I don’t need to “choose my own adventure” for a topic this week. The adventure chose me. As I type this post, there’s an insurance claims adjuster wandering around our yard to check out what damage was sustained in a tornado that hit my city last night.
We are lucky. Our house does not appear to have been damaged, just our garage. A couple of homes in our neighborhood had their roofs blown off. Several of our neighbors’ piers were destroyed. Traffic lights and towering, hundred-year-old trees were knocked over, blocking streets and crushing cars.
As far as we know, no one was injured. I find this a small miracle, and today I’ve been hugging my son and husband a little bit tighter and checking in on neighbors. Not to mention looking at the 1929 brick bungalow we live in with a good dose of respect for withstanding 85 years’ worth of storms and still standing strong.
Image credit: ubik2010
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