On Saturday, I was watching TV randomly, mostly just to have background noise, when I looked up and saw the weatherman all excited, pointing his finger in every direction.  Weathermen in Oklahoma live for the opportunity to predict tornadoes.  They warn us and over-warn us.  Which is good, but it sometimes makes you complacent.

When this storm got on a predictable path, it was going to come over the top of my house.  It was five miles away and zeroed in on me.  That's when I decided to get my phone, purse, and dog and go across the street to the Bryce's who have a cellar, and finish watching it on their TV.

If you have been through a tornado or two, you watch the path, the uptake height, and rotation.  There usually will be a looping hook on the tail of the storm.  The higher the uptake, the bigger the hail will be.  This storm had it all. And our block was in its path.  The hail was the largest I've ever seen, and I've lived in Oklahoma most of my life.  It was somewhere between golf balls and tennis balls--on the tennis ball end.

Of course it damaged my roof.  It broke windows around here.  It was a doozy.  And though the wind was rotating, it didn't touch down thank God.  But we were all reminded that it is March in Oklahoma.  You can never forget that in this state.  Tornado's are coming.  It's just a matter of where, and when.

And even though we get irritated at the weathermen getting all hepped up, we are thankful for accurate predictions.  I grew up back when there was no Doppler, no predictions, no nothing.  Every time there was a cloud, my Mama started frantically rounding up her little chickens--us--and heading us to a neighbor's cellar.  Sometimes we were in the cellar for an hour or more.

Now, I watch it arriving, and only need five minutes to take cover.