Saturday I was canning beans when the storms came through. Mom and Dad were over - Mom to help with the canning, and Dad to enjoy the Grandsprouts. I was watching the pressure gauge on the canner when the sirens went off, and someone turned on the TV to find out what in the world was going on. Brats were on the grill, and corn on the cob was boiling on the stovetop. It was dark, but not even really raining. How could we be in a tornado warning?!
None of us stopped what we were doing. I sent the Sprouts downstairs for a bit, and the menfolk went out into the yard to watch the sky periodically, but the rhythm of our evening was not broken. I finished canning those last quarts of beans. We ate our supper at the table, chatting as if nothing were happening (with a few glances out the windows to check wind and sky). It was a normal evening.
Soon, the storm passed on to better hunting grounds. The excitement was over.And my beans got canned, which was the important thing after all.