Hello. It’s me.
That’s me … shrouded in terror.
The weather is crazy … cold (60), and showers were developing to the north.
The pictured shower belched out a downdraft that blew through our new backyard, where the screen door was open. Carnage ensued.
The wind blew through the house and up to the front door, where I was sitting.
The front door closed … quite violently if I may be so bold.
I was sitting in front of the screen door, behind the front door … so when the front door closed violently, the force of the air opened the screen door and ejected me from the building.
Mom and Dad heard the boom and then heard me scream.
When they caught up to me, I was a full city block away, about to cross a thoroughfare, leaving a trail of potty behind me. Mom heard me scream again when the postal worker tried to pick me up … fortunately, Mom yelled at me to wait, and I finally stopped running and waited.
Here’s the view from the scene of the recovery.
Mom held me for about a half-hour while I shivered myself into a calm state (if I were wearing a fitbit, you’d see that my pulse was literally racing). After Mom proclaimed that I “smelled like urine”, Dad soaped me up good and now I rest next to Dad, nursing deep tissue injuries.
I just want to relax in my new back yard … no more downdrafts. And I really need a thorough soak in the spa now.
P.S. Congrats go to Frank’s Mom, who was four days off in determining the day we could use our back yard (February 20 was the official day). Dad came in second place, missing by 5 days. Mom says we missed by more than two months, but who is counting? I’m too frightened to count, to be honest, after being ejected from the building.