Weather
Jesus. I didn't know the tornadoes in Mississippi were so devastating until I read the paper this morning. (My mom is fine; she lives farther south.) Oh, weather, weather, weather, how I hate you sometimes. You make me want to channel the People's Poet:
Weather
Stinking, fascist weather
Sometimes I'd rather
Look at Thatcher's naughty bits than endure you
O weather!
Seriously, though. Ten dead, towns destroyed, may God watch and keep them. And this bit from the AP story:
[T]he roof was gone, a tree lay across part of the house and power lines stretched across the yard ... The smell of shredded pine trees hung on the warm breeze.
Ah, God, how I remember that sickening smell. We smelled it two or three days after the storm when we took the back roads to Jackson to get supplies and Internet access. It's nothing like Christmas trees, believe me. It's raw and vital and rotten all at the same time.
Weather
Stinking, fascist weather
Sometimes I'd rather
Look at Thatcher's naughty bits than endure you
O weather!
Seriously, though. Ten dead, towns destroyed, may God watch and keep them. And this bit from the AP story:
[T]he roof was gone, a tree lay across part of the house and power lines stretched across the yard ... The smell of shredded pine trees hung on the warm breeze.
Ah, God, how I remember that sickening smell. We smelled it two or three days after the storm when we took the back roads to Jackson to get supplies and Internet access. It's nothing like Christmas trees, believe me. It's raw and vital and rotten all at the same time.