I mentioned yesterday that the weather had been lovely.
I spoke too soon. Later in the day, a line of strong thunderstorms roared south through this part of Midgard, and the weather radio kept going off and off and off with all sorts of alarms and watches and WARNINGS all evening long.
At one point, we all huddled in the closet with important papers, laptops, flashlights, and the one cat we could find, listening to inch-diameter hail fling itself against the roof and windows as a tornado warning played itself out.
The human female collected a sample when the all-clear was sounded.
There was a lot of it.
This morning, Sigyn and I are venturing out to see if there is any damage.
By Idunn’s Little Apples! That is quite the quantity of yard salad. I think the hail took off half the new growth on the trees and shrubs, and a few things that survived the ice earlier this year may have tossed in the towel now.
Oh, Sigyn, sweetie! Please don’t cry!
The one remaining hollyhock got its leaves shredded, but it’s plucky! I’m sure it will survive.
There is a lot of pruning and sweeping left to do, but it appears that the human female’s vehicle survived undimpled. The roof seems to be intact, though the vents and gutters have taken a beating. Places to the north had even bigger hail and many folks are not as lucky this morning.
Hmm. What mischief can I wring from all of this this? I know! How about an endless parade of fly-by-night roofers, knocking on the door and offering a really great deal on a complete re-roof? Won’t that be fun?