Tornado? Heh, and I just recently confessed to someone that, even though I adore storms and could have been a storm-chaser in another life, I didn't miss the tornado sirens and warnings we left behind in Alabama. Because once one of 'em hit a little too close to comfort. And they just don't happen here.
Around midnight last night, I had to eat those words as my husband and I carried our two kids down to the basement because a Tornado Warning (meaning radar-indicated rotation has been detected or a visual sighting has been made of a tornado) had been issued for our county. Heh, my husband rolled his eyes the entire way down the stairs; yes, his wife is a little skittish when to comes to those warnings these days. Turns out his skepticism was on target, as the storm that spawned the tornado south of us ended up passing to our east. But better safe than sorry, heh.
Interestingly, this experience made me realize how valuable tornado sirens are to me mentally. They don't have them up here, so unless you are watching television or listening to the radio, you have no idea one's coming your way. At least in Alabama you could go to sleep knowing that if a storm got bad enough to spawn of those things you'd know about it. That's just not the case here. Heh, my nine-year-old daughter said this morning over breakfast that when she grows up she's going to make sure this county gets them. She'll do it, too.