Several months ago we had a hail storm. And it wasn't just any hail storm. Most of the time if I hear it hail I just look outside to confirm my suspicions and go back to whatever I was doing. This time I looked outside to see yes, tiny pea-sized hail falling from the sky. And it kept falling. More of it. And soon, much harder.
I'm not really prone to flights of panic, but I'll admit to you that there were a few moments where I clutched Reagan tightly in the hallway - away from any windows - for fear that perhaps the sky was falling. Chicken little. Yeah, okay. I was.
Reagan thinks it is too noisy!
Our front yard and our street:
"Whoa! What was that Momma?"
What started as a normal spring day, ended with the snow plow actually coming down my street to clear off the hail. By the time Hubby came home from work, all evidence of hail was gone. And Reagan reclaimed the title of "Noisiest thing" once again.