So I cranked up the weather reports, and there was a storm of Biblical proportions running more or less parallel to I-40 in Canadian County. At that angle, I calculated, it should miss me by at least two miles.
And then, of course, it turned toward me, making a beeline for Penn Square and it would have to pass over me to get there. Too late to run. I improvised a lean-to tent with the bedding, which I figured afforded me about a 10-percent chance of survival, which was 10 percent better than I stood otherwise. The last thing I tweeted was a prayer of sorts.
And then, for no reason I can imagine, it resumed its original course, due east, and never came close to me, although the rain two inches in an hour was ferocious. There was hail, though not enough, and not big enough, to make much of a dent in anything. The ground levels off behind the house, so there was a bit of water coming in through the back door, which opens into the garage, and maybe a little seepage around the edges of the slab.
At this writing, thunder continues, the rain has slacked off a bit, and, well, this post obviously wasn’t sitting in the Draft folder all day.