Weathering the storm

I hope to update this entry tomorrow with a photo of the Cutlet holding some hail. In the meantime, I'll just say it hailed on Friday, it was big, and in my 24 years of living in this state had never seen any quite this big.

We usually park both of our cars in the garage, but when the storm blew through we were out in the Petite Filet's new vehicle. It appears to have gotten only a couple shallow dents. They are so shallow I can probably fix them myself. The roof of our house, however, did not fare as well. It wasn't in great shape to begin with, but now several of the shingles have new knicks caused by the devil ice. We have called a roofing company to inspect it and determine if, in fact, hail further aged it to a point making an insurance claim worthwhile.

The severe storms sparked a few tornadoes, one of which dropped to the ground about three or four miles southeast of our neighborhood in Haltom City, Texas, just north of Fort Worth. The 'nado damaged several homes and businesses, and killed one person. Puts things in perspective, and makes our storm-related damage petty and ridiculous.

That's tornado No. 4 for me. I've had a few brushes with the big black clouds, but have always come out relatively unscathed.

• Mother's Day 1992: Was going to college and working part-time at a grocery store. Went home for lunch with my parents, and while I was gone the storm blew through the parking lot, damaging the store, many buildings around it and homes to the north. One man died when his mobile home rolled, with his own furniture crushing him.

• Some spring day in 1997: Sitting at home with my long-haired chihuahua and my roommate, SkinnyDude, listening to my police scanner while the sky turned green outside. Storm spotters saw a funnel cloud right over the college next to our duplex. That would explain the high winds and whooshing noise. It didn't touch the ground, thankfully.

• March 28, 2000: Working at newspaper office in downtown Fort Worth that evening. Photographers on the roof ran down to the newsroom and declared there was a tornado headed right for us. The desk I was using was on a "bridge" between the old building and an annex, and all of us there were ordered off the bridge. By the time we exited onto more solid ground, everyone was ordered into the basement, in the old pressroom. We waited out the tornado among a bunch of long-unused press equipment. When we emerged, the war zone that was Fort Worth told the story of a powerful storm that destroyed several buildings and killed two people. Downtown wasn't the same for several years, but the bruises have just about healed.

Out on the prairie like we are, you'd think springtime would plant the fear of tornadoes in our hearts. But really, modern tech lets those who keep an eye on the weather reports know if such storms are likely. The system isn't perfect, but plentiful warning sirens are sounded when conditions are right, which means it's time to go inside and wear your mattress. Otherwise, the weather is warm most of the time here, the little tradeoff we've got.

So, what's worse? Hurricanes, with lots of advanced warning? Tornadoes, with advanced warning but sometimes surprise appearances? Earthquakes, where warnings hardly ever come but the earthquakes hardly ever come, either?