a turbulent tornado season, with storms passing through the area constantly, spawning little tornadoes here and there in particular one that leveled our favorite airport in st. louis, stranding several friends and inconveniencing hundreds. perhaps most rattled are our students, most of whom come from saudi arabia and don't really know a crack of thunder from an earthquake; they are surprised i think that life goes on even with massive flooding, soggy roads, endless warnings, and their exit valve shut down. from in our shelter tonight i found a lady on the radio over on the missouri side talking about a roof of a house blown off, in a town called sedgewickville, but i don't really know this town; if it's on the other side of the river, it might as well be on mars. all in all though that's only about thirty miles away so it was basically one manifestation of the general pattern of large ugly storm systems moving through the area, making lots of noise and rain, dumping its stuff all over the place, and making travel hazardous on various roads here and there. perhaps the biggest danger is the mississippi itself, steadily rising and taking everything with it, that flowed down river rom up here where it's been washed down for what, six or seven straight days.

the boys as usual have a great time in the shelter; they take their games; they like the up-close feeling of having parents in their faces and being able to be just about as bad as they want and what will happen, we send them to their room? i don't think so. tonight a son, nineteen, happened to be with us and brought his guitar down; this shelter is barely big enough for four or six but held the guitar just fine and then i played with this radio in the background until i got the woman with the roof in sedgewickville. my wife came home from teaching a long class in which she took the class into an auditorium, one which already held another class; there was a warning in progress, and some people like my wife stay totally up on them and go where it's necessary. we have some confusion at those times when we don't hear an actual siren (as was true in this one) and I think in cases like that lots of people go on with their lives not even aware of the warning. i think also, that the roof in sedgewickville was enough for them to call a warning for our county, and tell everyone to run for cover just to be safe. even if they didn't actually blow the siren.

so as you can see, a lot of disruption; the people who are really paying attention are getting quite upset and a small population has its eyes fixed on the radar screen with its various colors and its amorphous red-and-yellow storm blob passing over the river and across our way endangering all the counties in the southern quarter of the state. my wife doesn't sleep well on nights like these. she gets the texts where they tell you about the warnings so that even if power goes out, we know what is going on; but, worse, the map shows one system after another roaring through the area for maybe a few more days.

beside me now a text has come in saying that our town has a flood warning; this is not surprising since it's a small town easily overwhelmed by the rain; its sewers fill up and the low spots get water high enough you wouldn't want to drive through. nights like this i stay home and listen to the thunder; we're out of the two-percent milk we use for most things but I don't want to go out and instead will stay home and maybe we'll just finish up the whole milk we generally use for coffee. i sent my son on his way telling him to drive the higher roads where the floods might rise beside him but won't cover the roads; my hope is i don't have a kid out there somewhere with a car in a big puddle, water rising around it, unable to move. he says the road to the college is real dicey these days; a little more water, and a lot of these places will just become impassable. wait it out; it's got to go down; the lush grasses are getting high, but it's been over a week since anyone could get out and cut them; things are looking a little wild and wooly, as if nature is a wild raging bull that won't settle for kind words and a pat on the back. the thunder, now, has finally moved off to the northeast; the warnings and watches eased up; we're not in the clear yet, but will be soon, so it's time to get some sleep, quick while i can. more later.